Page 16 of Seduced By the Enemy

“We only do this in a hotel. I don’t want to see your house, I don’t want you in mine. The less we know about each other the better.”

She considered that, lips pulling to the side, and nodded. She liked the idea of making it as impersonal as possible. Apart from anything, it made it conceivable to have sex without letting herself like him. She didn’t want to know those little details, like what he had on his bedside table and what brand of cereal he preferred. It was too…humanising, and humanising him would lead to complexity.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Anything else?” he prompted.

She sipped her champagne. “I think it’s a good idea to put a time limit on this,” she murmured, thinking aloud.

“Agreed. I don’t remember the last time I was with a woman for more than three dates anyway.”

“Then why bother having this conversation? By my count, we’re done after tonight.”

He raised both brows. “Touché.Turns out, the forbidden fruit is hard to resist.”

She pulled a face. “Tell me about it.”

“So, how long?” he prompted.

Emilia considered that. “Well, it’s my birthday in a month, and I always go home to spend the weekend with my parents. I’ll probably stay in Italy for a few weeks, catch up with friends. That seems like a natural end-point to me.”

“A month? Easy.”

“Or sooner, if we want.”

“Great.” And there was such confidence in his tone that it was easy for Emilia to let it seep into her body and push away any lingering reservations she held. She knew it wasn’t her best life decision, but at the same time, so long as she and Salvatore went into this with their eyes open, and took care to make sure no one ever found out, what possible harm could there be?

Absolutely none. They’d be careful, they’d be care-free, and when the time came, they’d both walk away without a backwardsglance. It was a recipe for success, and suddenly, Emilia was relishing the prospect of throwing herself into a month of no-holds-barred sex with the hottest guy she’d ever known. Starting with right now…

“Cristo,I’m going to have to work on my stamina for the next month, if I want to keep up with you,” he teased, later, when their food had arrived and they were surrounded by the wreckage of their meals.

She stuffed a french fry into her mouth, then shook her head. “If you’re fishing for compliments, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh?”

“You know there’s nothing wrong with your stamina.”

He grinned. “I’m pleased to hear you think so.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyone would think so—and I can’t believe it’s not something you haven’t heard a million times.”

“A million? Slight exaggeration there.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took a drink of mineral water.

“Can I ask you something?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Does it breech our rules?”

She considered that. “How about I ask, and if you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”

“Fair enough.”

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