Craving Scarlett

|13|. Dinner Gone Wrong

I swung open the door with false bravado, my breath hissing out in a rush when my eyes clashed with the midnight blue of Marco's.

He let his gaze drop, leisurely skimming over me and then a slow, appreciating smile fanned his lips. "Beautiful. You look beautiful as always, mia cara."

My stomach dipped. That accent was going to be the death of me, I was sure.

I stepped aside for him to enter, secretly admiring the way his dinner jacket snugly against the width of his broad shoulders, and stretched taut when he thrust his hands into matching trouser pockets.

"See anything you like?" He asked me, humour dripping from his every word yet he hadn't turned around. Still surveying the decor of my living room. So how had he known I was checking him out?

"Ehem," I coughed. "I'll just go and get my bag then." Before I could slither past him though, his arm reached out to grasp my elbow, effectively stopping from walking any further.

He drew me back against him, my back to his chest. Both hands placed firmly at my waist while he whispered huskily against my ear, "Do you want to know how I knew you were watching me?"

A small gasp escaped me. I was a little sensitive at the ears and he wasn't exactly helping matters with that voice of his.

His hand circled round the entirety of my waist, drawing me impossibly closer to him. I could feel every hard contour, every rock-like ridge of his body. "Let me tell you. You see, whenever we are in the same room, I have this acute awareness of you. Like a sensory detector. I can feel when you've entered a room. It's like a-a buzz at the back of my mind. Do you feel it too?"

I was so thankful he couldn't see my face right now. It was as red as a ripe tomato about to burst. And yes, I did feel it too. Every single thing he said. At the night of the gala, I had been inexplicably drawn to him, even against my wishes. It was maddening.

"Your breath's tickling my ears."

Oh my God, of all the things to say? I mentally face palmed.

"What?" He spun my body to face him. Wry amusement perched on his brows.

"Uh, nothing. It's nothing. I was just—" Marco's head swooped down to capture my lips with his, and my brain shut down. Only capable of processing feelings and oh God, did I feel.

A myriad of sensations coursed through my entire body, decimating all thoughts of the dinner date lingering.

Abruptly, Marco pulled away, holding me at arm's length. His breathing slightly laboured. I almost pouted. Why'd he stop? I wasn't faring very well from the kiss either. I'm pretty sure my brain still hasn't rebooted. It was that explosive. "Now that's how to properly begin a date. Now off you go, get your bag or we'll be late. We will not be leaving here for a long time, if you keep staring at me like that."

That quickly snapped me out of my haze. Marco just grinned, a sexy, devilish  smile at my reaction. He knew how he made me feel, dammit! "I'll be right back."

So far, this date hadn't gone as I had planned. And it hadn't even begun. I wondered idly what the rest of the night had in store for me.

"Scarlett, your bag is in your bedroom right?" Marco's voice dragged me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Then unless you keep an extra pair in your kitchen, you're going the wrong way." He sounded like he could barely keep from laughing.

I focused my eyes on the view in front of me. It was true. I was walking into the kitchen instead of my bedroom. Shit! Now Marco would think it was because of the kiss! Although, it wasn't, of course not.