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I lick my lips and lean closer, my voice a soft taunt.

“Go on, Adriano. Lose it.”

His arms cross, those muscles bulging under his shirt, a wall snapping shut.

“Lose it?” His voice drops to a guttural snarl that coils through me, sparking a slick, pulsing ache between my thighs. “You think you can fuck with me like before, Penelope? Just strut like a cocky little tease, begging for it? Keep pushing, and I’ll have you thrown out. I won’t let you fuck with me.”

My breath catches, his glare locks me in place, my defiance crumbling, and my voice snags. “I—I’m sorry, I stepped out of line.”

His arms flex tighter, a hard line of muscle, and my throat turns to dust. “Stepped?” he cuts in. “You leaped, Miss Rossetti, and I’m done putting up with you being inappropriate.”

The way he says my name is heavy with threat and it jolts me back to reality. “I shouldn’t have said all I did last night and today,” I murmur, eyes dipping, then flicking back to his.

He stalks to the desk’s edge and drops onto it, thighs splaying wide. A rough sigh escapes him like he’s shedding a load too heavy to haul.

“A lot’s moving here, much more than you grasp. Hiring is not my fight; I don’t care who they pick if they deliver. But I will not tolerate my employees crossing their boundaries. So tell me, Penelope, did they stick me with a liability?”

His words sink in, and it hits even harder that he holds my paycheck and my current livelihood in his hands. My senses snap awake.

“God, no! I’m fine…this is fine. More than fine, sir, the job is amazing. I will give it my best.”

He drags a hand through his strawberry-blond hair, and those eyes—fuck, they’re burning—rake over me like I’m the reason his world’s tilting.

I’m half-convinced I might keel over right here in his office. How can anyone be this gorgeous? This overwhelming? This… everything?

He’s ditched the suit today—no gloves either. Just a button-down tucked into slacks, sleeves rolled up, showing off forearms corded with muscle. It makes him look younger, less like the untouchable kingpin, and more like a man I could reach for.

His shoulders stretch the shirt taut, the fabric straining like it might split if he flexes too hard. I catch myself staring—no, gawking, really—and jerk my eyes away, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Then, abrupt as a gunshot, he straightens, his tongue sweeping slowly across his lips. My breath hitches. I want to kiss him so bad it’s a physical ache, a desperate pull deep in my core but it’s a fantasy, locked tight in my skull. A man like Adriano Vieri doesn’t see me that way. He’s too far out of reach.

Reality’s a cold bitch, and I hate her for it.

“There’s something else,” he says, voice softening just enough to throw me. The hardness melts, leaving a shadow of the man I used to know, the one who cared, who patched up scraped knees and grilled burgers with a grin.

“Yes, sir?”

He doesn’t hesitate when he speaks next, his eyes bright on my face. “You really need to lock your damn doors when you gethome. New York’s crawling with filth and criminals who’d love to stumble in and catch you…”

He trails off, lips twitching, like he’s picturing it.

My pulse stumbles. Catch me how? Naked? Vulnerable? The thought of him walking in—of those eyes raking over me, stripping me bare—sends a shiver racing down my spine. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to press my thighs together, and his eyes flick to my mouth, darkening for a split second before he looks away.

“The phone—” I blurt before my brain catches up because I know that damn phone didn’t just magically land by my bedside when I know I left it in his car.

His face twists, regret flashing in those gray eyes, like he’s kicking himself for mentioning it. He shakes his head, a mock exasperation I don’t buy for a second. I’d fantasized about him watching me in the shower and his words now strip away any doubt. He saw me.

Fuck.

It’s intoxicating. Thrilling. No, it’s insane—ludicrous, even. How do I play this? Do I tell him it is fine he saw me naked and now I want him to fuck me until my name’s a blur, till I’m nothing but sweat and screams under him?

Yes. That’s what I’ll do. I finally have the man of my dreams in a tight spot and I’ll be damned if I don’t take advantage of it.

I step close despite the tremors I feel. “Tell me, Mr. Vieri, anyone could’ve walked in and seen me… what? Shower?”

“You were doing much more than just showering, Penelope. Exactly why I brought it up.”

Holy shit. Slow is out the window. We are careening down the flirty lane now, full speed, and I’d walk through fire to keep it going. That’s why I don’t hesitate, the question burning on my tongue. “What else did you see?”

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