“You’re the benefactor,” she reminded him, and of the fact that she spoke more than a few words of Italian.
How amazing was she?
She continued, “You’re the one who financed the entire gallery. You need to be here for the opening.”
He shrugged. “I wrote the check, so my part is done. I can leave.”
“You came here for a reason,” she said. “Was it to support your sister or to check on your investment?”
“Both,” he acknowledged, albeit begrudgingly.
“Then do that,” she urged.
He groaned and reluctantly admitted, “I don’t want to go in there alone.”
She turned fully toward him then and linked her arm with his. “You don’t have to be afraid,” she told him. “I’ll protect you.”
His body immediately reacted to the closeness of hers, as it had earlier when he’d jerked her against him. Tensing and hardening with desire...
He needed protection from her—not by her. Because it wasn’t just his body reacting to her. His mind was engaged as well. She was smart and funny and fascinating.
And even though she’d told him not to be, he was afraid.
Of her.