His lips touched hers, softly, almost teasingly. She tilted her head up farther and pressed closer to him. His lips and his skin were surprisingly cool to the touch, nearly cold, but she didn’t draw away. The kiss became more insistent, deeper. Desire, the same desire that had been an ember when she’d hung up the phone, now burned with new heat, and her skin felt shockingly warm against his, like fire meeting ice.
Her cel phone rang.
She pul ed away from him. “Son of a bitch.” Breaking contact with Karl cleared her head a bit, and she was none too sure if that was what she wanted.
“Ignore it,” Karl suggested.
“It could be business.” She stopped and corrected herself. “It had
better
be business at this time of night.”
She flipped open her phone. “This better be good.”
“Oh, it’s good, you spoiled little bitch.”
Roberto Pulani. Beautiful. Nothing else could simultaneously flood her with tension, murder the mood and drag back the shadow of mafia business like talking to Roberto. Her rival. Her personal affliction. Her bastard half brother.
It was going to be a long night after al . Just not in the way she had hoped.
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