Dangerous Kiss E-Book

Michelle Love

• Herausgeber: Michelle Love
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

I never thought I would ever feel this way again…
Losing my wife was bad enough, but now I've fallen for someone so vulnerable and half my age.
Even her name makes me smile. Her spirit, her laugh, the way her dark eyes look at me…she makes me weak.
But I can't take advantage of her … If only her skin wasn't so soft, her voice so sweet, her body so alluring…
I want her, and I don't know how to stop this from happening… If I even try to stop it…

Keywords: Guaranteed HEA, no cliffhangers, happily ever after. billionaire, bad boy, office romance, steamy romance, contemporary romance, love books, love stories, new adult, alpha male, romance, action, adventure, steamy romance, small-town secrets, hot, alpha hero. free book, free novels, romantic novels, and sexually romantic books.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

DANGEROUS KISS

Copyright

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Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dangerous Kiss Extended Epilogue

Sneak Peek – Chapter One

DANGEROUS KISS

A Billionaire Romance

By Michelle Love

©Copyright 2022 by Michelle Love - All rights Reserved

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights are reserved.

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Blurb

Movie director Cosimo DeLuca may be at the top of his game but on his latest shoot, he is already regretting hiring diva Stella Reckless as his leading lady. Fending off her advances, the recently widowed Cosimo had no intention of ever falling in love again—until he meets Stella’s long-suffering personal assistant, Biba May. Their attraction becomes red-hot, and soon they begin to discover a whole new world of erotic pleasure.

Biba is the only one who can handle Stella, and although the actress treats Biba appallingly, she would be lost without her. When she sees the obvious love between Cosimo and Biba, her bitchiness makes Biba’s life a misery. Throw in a mysterious stalker, determined to get close to Stella, and Biba soon finds herself in a troubling situation.

But when Stella’s stalker shifts his focus to Biba, a dangerous game unfolds which could cost Biba more than her job.

Can Cosimo give her the lifeline she needs, or will Biba be pulled into a mire of betrayal and murder?

Chapter One

She reached out and touched his face as his steely grey eyes fixed on her. She felt him tense at her caress, but Lucy was glad he didn’t draw away. Her fingers moved lightly over the craggy planes of his face, across the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes, tracing the fine lines of his cheekbones.

“You are beautiful,” she whispered, and a strange look came into his eyes.

“Dear one, you are so young,” his voice shook with emotion. “If you agree to this, know that I will strive to make you happy.” He took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. “But I know that my age may prevent you from ever loving me the way I would wish to be loved.”

“I don’t see age,” Lucy said, her blue eyes serious, her tone fervent. “I see experience; I see adventure; I see so much I could learn from. Surely love—real love—is based on more than a number?”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Then it is settled.”

“Yes,” Lucy said, drawing near to him, “It is settled. I am yours, Thornton. Yours.” And she pressed her lips gently to his…

“Cut. Okay, that’s good. Let’s move on.” Cosimo DeLuca’s voice was weary and the dark circles under his eyes obvious. Biba May shot the director a quick glance as she moved in to drape a robe around Stella’s shoulders, but Cosimo was lost in his notes already.

Stella, her blonde hair piled up under a 1920s Marcel Wave wig, glared at Biba. “I’m freezing. Be a bit quicker next time.”

Biba said nothing. She’d learned a long time ago that rising to Stella’s bait was never a good idea. Instead, she would just fix her dark brown eyes on the actress, and Stella would smirk. Biba never understood why Stella kept requesting her to be her assistant on set but, despite her bitchiness, Stella paid very well and having the odd cell phone thrown at her head was worth it. Besides, the second time Stella had gotten physical, Biba picked up the vase Stella had just hurled at her—and had thrown it right back, missing deliberately by an inch or so. Stella had been shocked…and then had burst into peals of laughter. “Quid pro quo, Biba May.”

Biba knew Stella liked her feistiness and the fact that she, Stella, could go on a full-blown rant, and Biba would listen to it all and then tell her exactly what she thought, whether Stella liked it or not.

Which wasn’t to say Stella liked Biba or anyone else, for that matter. Stella Reckless was the world’s biggest movie star, a staggering beautiful blonde with curves to die for, a wide smile that could break into the most infectious laughter. Stella didn’t give a fuck what people thought of her, rarely did anything for charity unless she got something out of it, and surrounded herself with her ‘squad’—a flotilla of easily replaceable minor actresses and pretty boys who never said boo to her and instead kissed her ass to the press.

Except Biba. Biba wouldn’t take any of her crap. An army brat, Biba May was used to tough people: her African American father, a hulking giant at nearly seven feet, was an army general, and her Creole mother was a major in the I Corps at the Joint Base Lewis–McChord just outside Tacoma. Biba had every intention of following her mother into the military until it was discovered at age fifteen that she had a heart murmur. After a failed surgery, Biba had spent her lengthy recovery watching old movies and falling in love with them, and she decided to pursue work as an assistant on movie sets. There she found a world where she could observe the inner workings of film and movie magic. Her natural efficiency and organizational skills had easily found a home behind the camera.

Often though, she was asked why she herself didn’t want to act. Biba rolled her eyes, aware of why they asked her. She knew people considered her beautiful—her gorgeously clear caramel skin, large dark eyes, short cropped black hair and curvy, petite figure drew admirers constantly, but she insisted on resolutely downplaying her physical beauty.

“Hey.” Someone nudged her now, and she turned to see her friend—her best friend as it turned out—Reggie, grinning at her. “You were out of it. Did Madame Lash need her ass kissed?”

Biba chuckled. “If she did, she came to the wrong person.” She looked around. “They setting up the next scene?”

Reggie, who was the cowriter of the film, nodded at Cosimo DeLuca, who was still reading his notes and talking in a low voice to his director of photography. “You met him yet?”

Biba shook her head. “Not yet. He seems…sad. I didn’t want to intrude by introducing myself. I mean, what does he care about a personal assistant?”

Reggie half-smiled. “Actually, he’s one of the good ones. Cares about everyone. Too much, I think, sometimes.”

“You know him well?”

“Not well, but I’ve worked with him a few times these past two years. His wife died a couple of years ago.”

Biba looked at the director. “So that’s what it is.”

“What?”

“The sadness. How did she die?”

“She was sick, I think. Died young, too, she was only thirty-three. They had a kid, too. Nicco. He lives with his grandmother in Seattle. Doesn’t see his dad much.”

Biba shook her head. “That’s terrible. Poor guy.”

Reggie moved away, and Biba took a moment to study the director. He was devastatingly handsome, or he would be if he didn’t wear his grief across every cell of his body. His dark curls were in disarray, there were purple shadows under his bright green eyes, and his thick brows were knotted and brooding. Biba’s eyes dropped down to his mouth, his lips, and found the curve of them sensual and appealing.

She realized that she was staring just as Cosimo looked up and met her gaze. A jolt of adrenaline—and of desire—shot through her stomach, and she looked away, embarrassed. Luckily, Stella grabbed her at that moment, and she was kept too busy for the next hour to process why she had felt such a shift in her soul when DeLuca looked at her.

They were filming at Lakewood Manor, a gorgeous Tudor-type Gothic house just outside of Tacoma, Washington—Biba’s hometown. So, she asked herself later as she trudged to Stella’s trailer, why haven’t you been home, May? She had made excuses to herself over the three days they had been in Washington, such as: they had only been there three days, things were always hectic at the beginning of a shoot and… and… and…

The truth was…she didn’t want to go home only to be made to feel like a child again. Her mother had never been the warmest person, and Biba’s father, with his fragile male ego, had taken his insecurities out on Biba from a young age. He could barely talk to her as an adult, but if Biba dared to get annoyed by it, Travis May would get verbally aggressive.

Biba loathed the idea of seeing him, not wanting to feel that sense of rage, betrayal, and injustice that her father kindled in her. Her mother…Biba had always felt that she was just an inconvenience to her mom, to their lives. She would never side with Biba over her father’s behavior.

Biba blew out her cheeks as she knocked at Stella’s trailer door and went in without waiting for a response. She felt the trailer moving and rolled her eyes. Stella must be in the bedroom with Damon.

Damon Tracy—or ‘Prick Tracy’ as he was called by the crew—was Stella’s latest paramour—not that Stella cared much for him. Biba hated Damon—he was as bland as a beige wall and as dumb as a bag of hammers, but he thought himself wildly appealing to the opposite sex—and had, on more than one occasion, flirted with Biba, his eyes roaming freely over her body. He had a habit of cornering her suggestively with seemingly innocent requests. Biba gave him short shrift, but that just seemed to encourage him.

Stella’s last boyfriend had been a sweetheart—Sasha, a businessman from Portland—and Stella had sent Biba to break up with him. Biba had been horrified and had burst into tears as Sasha took the news stoically, something she rarely did. Sasha had in turn comforted her, and they had remained good friends.

Damon? Biba would happily dump his ass for Stella, and knowing her boss, that day wasn’t far off.

The trailer stopped rocking now, and to Biba’s amusement, she heard Stella say, “Is that it? Jesus…”

Biba stifled a snort of laughter, but she didn’t hide her grin when Damon stomped out of the bedroom in his shorts, shooting her a glare as he pulled his jeans on and disappeared out the door. Stella appeared a moment later, seeing Biba’s grin. She shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to make him think he needs to up his game.”

Biba grimaced. “Rather you than me.”

Stella chuckled darkly. “I don’t think there’s much mileage left in Damon and I. Besides, I’ve got my eye on a much bigger prize.”

“God, who now?”

Stella grinned at Biba’s sarcastic tone. “Our delectable director, of course. You must have noticed how damn sexy that man is. God, Italian, too… I bet he fucks like an animal.”

Biba turned her face away, not wanting Stella to see how utterly thrilling that thought was to her. “He’s still mourning his wife, Stella. You might want to tread a little carefully.”

Stella made a noise. “Please. This is the movie business. I bet he was screwing his leading ladies the second the wife was put in the ground.”

She had a point, but somehow, Biba didn’t think Cosimo DeLuca was like other men. She changed the subject. “Want to go over tomorrow’s lines?”

Stella shrugged. “Sure. Then you can help me with a plan to seduce Cosimo. That man isn’t leaving Washington without being fucked by me.”

Sex was the last thing on Cosimo’s mind. He went through the day’s filming with his DP, Channing, and his assistant director and co-producer, Lars, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything. This movie wasn’t his first choice to make, but at least he had close friends on the crew, friends that understood that his priority, ever since Grace’s death, was to try to find common ground with Nicco, their sixteen-year-old son.

Cosimo tapped his phone’s screen and raised it to his ear. “Hey, Mom.”

Olivia DeLuca’s voice was warm. “Cos, how lovely to hear from you. How’s filming?”

“First day. Always a strange one. We’re shooting out of sequence, so the actors and crew haven’t built up that chemistry yet. Same old, same old. How’s Nicco?”

“Well…he likes his school, so that’s something. After that trouble at Olympia High, I thought we would never get him settled. Just a shame we had to go private to find his niche.”

“I’d pay any amount for that, Mom, so please don’t worry.” He hesitated. “I don’t suppose he wants to speak to his dad today?”

Olivia sighed. “I’ll see, Cos, but don’t hold your breath.”

There was a long pause, and then Cosimo heard his son pick up the phone. “Yo.”

Cosimo, relieved, chuckled. “Yo back to you, too. How’s things?”

“Cool. School’s good.”

“Glad to hear it. What’s been going on?”

“Not much. Playing some football.”

Cosimo was surprised. “Really?”

Nicco gave a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, Dad. Surprise, surprise, your son’s good at something.”

Cosimo’s hands curled into fists. Here we go… “Nic, I’ve never thought you were bad at anything.”

“I don’t know, I’m a pretty shitty son.”

“You are not.” Nicco had been like this since his mother had died. They’d kept a lot of Grace’s illness away from Nicco, and when she had died so unexpectedly, Nicco had been away on a school trip. The last time he’d talked to Grace, he’d been distracted and had gotten irritated with her fussing—what he called fussing—over him and had snapped at her. He’d never forgiven himself for that—and he’d never forgiven Cosimo for keeping the severity of Grace’s illness from him. Cosimo felt the pain of that perceived betrayal every time he talked to or saw Nicco. He was losing his son, and he knew it.

“Whatever, Dad. How’s the filming?”

“Just got started. You know, if you wanted, you could come down here on the weekend, hang out, see what we do?”

There was a long pause. “I have a game this weekend.”

“Then I’ll come to you.” Cosimo had filming scheduled for both days, but he would let Channing direct them.

“Nah, you have work.” Nicco hesitated. “Maybe the weekend after, I could come down on the bus.”

“I’d like that.” Cosimo felt a wave of hope flow through him. “Love you, buddy.”

“Yeah.” Nicco’s voice had gone cold again. “Later, Dad.”

“Later, Nic.”

Cosimo heard the phone being handed back to his mother. Only Olivia DeLuca would still insist on a landline. “Hello, darling.”

“Hey, Mom. Nic says he might come down the weekend after next.”

“I heard. That’s wonderful, Cos.” There was a long pause. “Cosimo…try to be happy, son. I worry that you’re going into one of your hermit phases. I worry you’ll get depressed again.”

Cosimo rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine, Mom, honestly. It’s been two years, that’s all. I want to know how to move past it, but I’m stuck at the moment. It’ll work out.”

“Open your heart again, son,” Olivia said in a soft voice. “Grace would want you to find love again.”

“I know. Thanks, Mom.”

After he hung up, he half-heartedly made some notes before going out in the twilight down to the lake. The mansion was built alongside one of the biggest lakes in the area and the surrounding area was tranquil this late in the evening. Cosimo breathed in the night air, the sharp cold of it revitalizing his senses. It really was a beautiful place to film. The estate itself had been converted into a bed-and-breakfast some years ago and refurbished to an exquisite standard. The movie studio had bought out the rooms for the duration of the shoot, and some of the cast and crew were staying in the bedrooms that weren’t used for filming. Cosimo looked back at the mansion now, lit up and warm. He knew he should be grateful for this job, and he was—he loved directing—but lately, he had been craving more solitude. Maybe his mom was right—he was becoming a grumpy old hermit again.

He shook his head and began to walk down to sit at the lake’s edge. He heard a dog bark and looked around to see a German Shepard, one he recognized as the caretaker’s dog, bounding around a slight figure who was brandishing a tree branch. The other end was in the dog’s mouth, and they were playing tug-o-war with it. He heard the woman laughing and pretending to growl at the dog, and squinting through the gloom, he recognized Stella’s personal assistant—Biba? Was that her name?—teasing the dog, and then rolling and playing with it on the grass.

Cosimo smiled. Sweet. He watched for a few minutes from his lakeside seat. The girl saw him as she was about to turn and go back inside. For a long moment they gazed at each other, reading the other’s expression, and he saw her give him a slightly embarrassed wave. He raised his hand to wave back, but she had already turned to go back inside.

Cosimo turned back to the lake, but his mind remained on the young woman. He knew Stella Reckless was a mean boss, but this girl seemed to have the measure of her, and that intrigued him. He also knew Stella had been batting her eyes at him for the last three days, and he really didn’t want to go there. Stella Reckless was not his type at all—he preferred nerds, like him—girls that would talk to him about something other than Hollywood, parties, or the Kardashians. Grace had been the biggest science geek and had been applying to NASA when she got sick.

He sighed and got up, walking slowly back to the mansion. His mom might be on him to find someone new, but Cosimo knew—she would have to be very special indeed.

He watched the director walk back to the mansion before slipping back into the woods. He’d been delighted when he discovered they’d been filming here. Open woods, the lake—these would all make it easier for him to get closer to Stella. Soon, he would contact her and make it known that he was there for her—in every way a man could be there for a beautiful woman like Stella Reckless. No one would stand in their way of their epic, once-in-a-lifetime love story…and God help anyone that tried…

Chapter Two

“Beebs, come on. A half hour won’t make any difference.” Rich Furlough, one of the movie set’s security guards openly sulked at Biba, who grinned back at him. Rich, and his joined-at-the-hip colleague Gunter, were some of her favorite people on any of the movies she’d worked on. Superb at their jobs, they had an irreverent and sometimes mutinous sense of fun. Rich, whose dark good looks and bright blue eyes could have made him a contender for stardom easily, was the instigator, always looking for ways to bring the more diva-like actors down to earth with a bump, and Gunter, a German-born bodybuilder, tagged along pondering the most random things in life, such as why dragonflies had multi-colored wings (“Zay are fancy-schmancy, no? Like ’zay are going to a party, ja?”).

Biba adored both of them—the two men had been best friends since their college years, and in turn, they had taken her under their wing early on in her career. Gunter had a crush on Stella which remained resolutely unrequited, and so sometimes he would get drunk and wax mournfully about his ‘lost love’.

Rich flirted outrageously with Biba, but they shared an almost fraternal bond, and now he was trying to persuade her to prank Damon, who Rich loathed. “Come on, Biba,” he said again, his voice wheedling. “You know you want to.”

“I’m not Krazy Gluing his moustache,” Biba said firmly, trying and failing to keep a grin off her face. “Lila will kill me for ruining her makeup job on him.”

Rich snorted. “He needs it.” Biba winked at him and went to find her boss.

Stella was tapping her cigarette on the table in the trailer, her eyes locked in the middle distance. For a moment she didn’t see Biba come in, then, after Biba had gotten tired of saying good morning and being ignored, she rapped on the table loudly.

“Hey, Spacecakes. Makeup in five.”

Stella blinked, then smiled. “I heard you. Have you seen Damon this morning?”

“No, thank God.” Biba stopped and narrowed her eyes at Stella. She knew this look of old. “Oh, no. I know what you’re thinking.”

“What?” Stella was all innocence.

“You get this look on your face when you’re gearing up to dump someone. As much as I detest Damon, you can dump him yourself this time.”

“I didn’t ask you to do anything.”

“No, but you will.” Biba busied herself with the new script pages that had arrived. She frowned. “Are the new pages pink or yellow? Shit, I can’t remember.”

Stella ignored her. “Now that you mention Damon…”

“I didn’t, you did.”

Stella waved her cigarette at Biba, then lit it finally, blowing the smoke away from her assistant. It was one of the few courtesies she showed. “Perhaps it is time we went our separate ways.”

“Hallelujah.”

Stella studied her. “You really don’t like him, do you? What’s the matter, Beebs? Hate sharing me?”

“Always,” Biba grinned sarcastically, and Stella laughed. “No, he’s just a creep. You could do better.”

Stella looked vaguely surprised at the compliment but didn’t say anything. “Well…next time, I will. Our gorgeous director for one thing. Cosimo DeLuca…can you imagine getting reamed by that man? I bet he’s packing, too.”

Biba didn’t answer, but the thought of Cosimo naked wasn’t unpleasant—quite the opposite. Not that she’d ever tell Stella that. She remembered last night when she’d seen him watching her play with the caretaker’s dog. He had looked almost…happy, enjoying watching the fun she was having with the German Shepard. Maybe he was a dog lover? That made him even more appealing. She pushed the thought of him away. Do not get a crush on him. Do not. It was ridiculous, anyway. She’d never spoken a word to him. When she’d given him that awkward wave last night, he’d looked so surprised that she had turned away, embarrassed, and almost run back to the manor house.

“Hey, Spacecakes,” Stella’s tone was annoyed, “Are you listening?”

“Sure.”

“See if you can get a read on DeLuca’s attitude toward me.”

“How?”

“Watch him when I’m acting. See if he reacts…in an admiring way.”

Biba started to grin. “So, if he…” She pretended to grab her crotch and gyrate, making an obscene gesture with her hand. Stella cackled with laughter. She could always be won over with a dirty joke.

“A little subtler than that, but yes.” Stella stretched out her long legs and bunched her long blonde hair up into a ponytail. “Right. Makeup.”

After Stella had left her alone, Biba tidied up the trailer and got out Stella’s clothes for later, hanging them and steaming the wrinkles out of them. When she was done, she went to the craft service trailer and grabbed some granola and coffee.

As she sat down, she felt someone tickle her sides and knew who it was. “Reginald.” She said in an imperious voice then grinned as he sat down beside her. Reggie kissed her forehead.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He immediately stole a spoonful of granola, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses, his thick, wavy blonde hair a mess as always.

“Reggie, the food is right there,” she moaned, but really, she didn’t mind. Reggie Quinn, screenwriter, music buff, fellow geek, was her best friend in the world, her ‘person’, the one she called at the highest points of her life and at the lowest.

He had been the one to get her the job of Stella’s assistant in the first place. They’d met when he came to her college to give a lecture on working in the movie business and found Biba the only student willing to engage. He called her over afterward, and they’d talked long into the night at her favorite bar. They found so much common ground that they both joked that it had been love at first sight.

Their friendship, however, had remained platonic from the start. Biba never sought out romantic entanglements, and Reggie seemed too happy being single. Both of them agreed they had far better things to do with their lives. And Reggie was her champion when it came to her writing, endlessly giving her feedback and encouraging her to submit her work to agents. Biba still didn’t believe she would ever make it as a screenwriter, but she was grateful to Reggie’s support in any case.

Reggie balanced his chin on her shoulder, and she leaned her head against his. “How’s the Wicked Witch?”

Biba grinned. “Okay at the moment. She has a new plan.”

“Oh God. Who this time?” Reggie was rolling his eyes.

“Cosimo DeLuca.”

“God,” Reggie said, “Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Right?” But suddenly Biba didn’t want to talk about Stella seducing Cosimo—it gave her a weird, unfamiliar sensation of jealousy and pain that she didn’t understand.

She finished her breakfast and said goodbye to Reggie, heading toward the makeup trailer.

As she rounded the corner, she suddenly rocked back, almost colliding with someone. When she saw who it was, her heart thumped against her ribs.

Cosimo looked startled, then he smiled, and to Biba, it felt like the sun had come out. “Hello at last.” His voice was deep and rich, only a hint of an accent, but it sent her senses reeling.

At last? That made her stomach flutter. “Hello, Mr. DeLuca, it’s good to meet you.” Not knowing what to do, she stuck her hand out, and his big, warm, dry hand closed around hers.

There was a long hesitation as they both stared at each other, and Biba felt herself reddening. His eyes were intensely fixed on hers—such a beautiful green—and his lashes were thick and black and long. When his eyes dropped to her full lips for a second, Biba felt a thrill go through her. God, he really was drop-dead gorgeous…and he was making her body feel things she’d never felt.

“It’s Biba, isn’t it?”

She nodded, feeling breathless. He smiled at her. “My mom used to model for Biba in London in the Sixties. Lovely name.”

“Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. DeLuca?” Like kiss you? Like run my hand through that gloriously wild mop of curls on your handsome head?

Cosimo smiled. “You’re very kind, but no, thank you. And it’s Cosimo, Biba. Are you looking for Ms. Reckless? I believe I saw her walking back to her trailer.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him and was gratified to see him nod. There were two rosy spots on his cheeks that surprised her—but maybe the guy was just really shy. She had heard that about him and so far, she’d seen no evidence to contradict it.

He also seemed in no hurry to leave her side. “How are you enjoying the shoot? Not that we’ve been here long, but…”

Cosimo was interrupted by the hasty arrival of Rich, who shoved something into Biba’s hand and ran off, shouting “Sorry, Beebs!”

Both Biba and Cosimo looked at each other askance, then Biba looked down. A half-empty tube of Krazy Glue.

“What was that about?” Cosimo looked after the retreating—and laughing—form of Rich.

Biba shook her head. She didn’t want to get Rich into trouble. “Nothing. Sorry, Mr— Cosimo. I do have to get to Stella.”

“Of course. Again, good to talk to you, Biba.” He smiled and touched her arm before he moved away. Biba took a long shaky breath in. Her skin burned where he’d touched it, and she wondered how her body would feel with his hands on it, stroking her, caressing her…

Jesus. A steady pulse beat between her legs, and she had to take a moment to collect herself.

Later, watching the scene between Stella and Damon on the set, Biba couldn’t help but watch how Cosimo reacted to his actors. He was unfailingly polite, but knew what he wanted, explaining to them both carefully how he felt the scene should be played, but listening to their suggestions. Gentle, she thought to herself. He’s a gentle man.

Damon was fiddling with his moustache, scratching the skin around it, and Stella looked annoyed. “I don’t want flaky skin in my mouth, Damon, thank you very much.”

Damon ignored her. “So damn itchy.”