Page 25 of Risk It All
“You have a lot of faith in me.” His blue eyes shine with gratitude and understanding.
“I know I misjudged you earlier, but tonight, the man I saw with Chisara, he amazed me. He gives me hope.”
He takes a deep breath and looks up at the moon. When he looks back at me, his eyes are less frustrated and overwhelmed. “Thank you.”
I smile. “No problem.”
We stand for a moment, simply looking at each other. Slowly, subtlety, the air shifts as a sizzle of awareness arcs between us. Twenty-four hours ago, I'd have pulled away from him even as I'm drawn to him. It was easier to deny the attraction when I thought he was a superficial businessman. Even on the flight and drive to the village, I continued to think he was going through the motions and that he'd help some, but that there would be an emotional distance between him and the villagers. Then I saw him with the children. There's no faking that kind of genuine interest and caring.
He broke into Dr. Knowles office, probably hacked into his computer too, just to print pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge for a sick little girl. The man who would do that has more depth, more authenticity, than anyone I've met outside my parents. He’s the type of man I'd once sought, but eventually thought only existed in my imagination.
Yet here he is, looking down on me with brilliant blue eyes. Knowing eyes. And so, like in my dream, I can't help but indulge my desire to be near him.
I tilt my head up slightly, bringing my lips closer to his. “If you wanted to kiss me, I'd be okay with that.”
His lips twitch upward. “There's no doubt that I want to kiss you. But I'm not a one-night-kiss kind of guy, and you've made it clear that there will be no dates when this adventure is over.”
“What are you talking about? I spent the evening with you eating exotic Nigerian cuisine. We're standing on a moonlit terrace. It has all the hallmarks of a date.”
His smile is fast and wide, and so breathtakingly handsome. “You've got a point.” He leans in closer, but not close enough. “You'll still respect me in the morning, won't you?”
“Let's see how well you kiss first.”
He still holds my hand over his heart, but his other hand settles on my hip, pulls me close. Then his lips touch mine. The kiss in my dream had been good, but nothing compared to the real thing.
I'd have thought a virile man like Max would plunge, dive deep and take what he wanted. Instead, his kiss is soft, thorough, as if he's savoring a new dessert. It lingers, causing a slow burn that builds and builds. I want more. So much more.
I part my lips, inviting him to go deeper. A groan rumbles through his chest as his hand leaves my hip to cradle my cheek, turning my head so he can accept my invitation. His tongue, hot, wet, takes a long sweep, tangling with mine in a slow, seductive, dance that I feel down to my toes.
With each taste, each nibble, my blood thickens and heats until I think I might melt into a boneless mass. My body goes pliant against his, and only then, when my body is soft against his, does he turn up the heat. His arm bands around me, pulling me flush against him. I feel the hard muscle of his chest, the thick arousal pressing against my belly, and for a moment, I don’t just want more. I want it all.
And then the kiss slows as he begins to pull away, ending with a nibble on my lower lip. It’s a perfect kiss and I wonder if there is anything that Max doesn’t excel at.
