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Dominic gently pushed Nicollette into the vaulted room. He’d been close to kissing her until Ramon had showed up. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He was the person who didn’t need love. Didn’t need anything or anyone but freedom. And here he was, wishing he’d kissed her. Wishing she’d kissed him. Dom was sure Nicollette wanted him to kiss her. He knew he wanted to kiss her.
His brain was telling him to stay away from her, but his body didn’t agree. It craved her touch. Her lips. Her affection. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone- even Letty who he was sure he’d loved- and now he was feeling this way about a girl who was practically a stranger. A very intriguing stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.
Nicollette let Dominic push her into the room. She craved his touch as she did his kiss. She tried to tell herself he would turn out to be like Riley, but something deep inside her was telling her different. Her instincts were telling her he was nothing like Riley.
She’d wanted Dominic to kiss her. She’d anticipated it. When Douglass had showed up, she’d wanted to mute him out so Dominic would kiss her. He hadn’t though. He’d simply moved away and got out of the pool.
Now, in the locked suite they were sharing, Nicollette felt as if she were going insane. Being this close to Dominic and not being able to have him- not being able to have him kiss her- was driving her crazy. Finally, she grabbed a book off the bookshelf in the main room and went to sit on the balcony.
Dominic watched Nicollette grab the book and head for the balcony. He didn’t try to stop her- he needed to think. He needed to analyze how he felt about this young woman he knew so little about.
All afternoon, Nicollette sat on the balcony reading and Dominic sat thinking. It was getting dark when Nicollette came in, walked right past Dominic and into the bathroom. Dominic heard the sound of the shower and relaxed. He still didn’t know how he felt about her when the sound of the shower stopped. As Nicollette opened the bathroom door, emerging in a white terrycloth robe, the main door opened.
A man about Dominic’s age walked in, pushing a cart with silver platters on it.
“Dinner. Compliments of Andre, the chef.” Then the man left. The small table in the corner was perfect for eating. Dominic rose, pushed the cart over beside the table and motioned for Nicollette to sit. He put one of the platters in front of he and one across her for himself. Each plate contained a small portion of mashed potatoes, meatloaf, green beans, and on the side a fresh salad. Milk and water were in pitchers.
Dominic poured milk for himself and water for Nicollette, who’d shook her head when he’d offered the milk. She hadn’t spoken to him since the incident in the pool. He’d come to call it that, not knowing what to call it.
“Out of curiosity, are you ever going to speak again?” Dominic asked. Nicollette looked at him.
“Yeah. Course I am,” she replied, taking a bite of her salad. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, after that thing in the pool.”
“What thing?” Nicollette asked, hoping he would drop the subject.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Dominic replied.
“Yeah you do. I’ll prove it to you,” he got up and moved to stand next to her. One hand went to the wall behind her; the other went to rest on the table. “It was something like this,” he leaned forward. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips. Oh how he wanted to kiss those lips. They were inches- no centimeters apart. It would be so easy to close the space between them and kiss her.
Nicollette sat there hoping Dominic would kiss her. He had started out looking into her eyes, but his gaze had drifted down to her mouth. She looked at his mouth. The sensual, masculine curves, begging to be kissed.
“Surely you remember this?” he asked quietly. Nicollette didn’t nod or respond. Just as she was about to lean forward and kiss him, he moved back to his seat, raised his glass to her and took a drink.
Nicollette looked at him and blinked.
“Something wrong?” Dominic asked.
“No. Why would something be wrong?” Nicollette replied, taking a bite of her mashed potatoes.
“I don’t now. Why would something be wrong?” Dom countered.
“I have no idea. Your dinner’s getting cold.”
Dominic went to the couch, opened his suitcase and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he seldom wore and a t-shirt and made his way to the bathroom.
Nicollette put the platters back on the cart and put it where she always did- near the door and then she went to the bed and turned back the corner and sat. She turned on a lamp that sat on a bedside table. Removing her robe, she adjusted her pajama bottoms and tank top and then crawled under the covers.
She heard the sound of the shower being turned on and rolled over onto her side. She’d left her book in the bathroom. Slowly she rose from the bed and went to stand in front of the bathroom door. After a few minutes of contemplating on whether or not to knock, she knocked. No answer. She knocked louder. Still no answer. She pounded on the door and then twisted the knob, finding the door unlocked.
“Dominic, I’m getting my book,” she called so he would hear. Apparently he didn’t, because when she was halfway across the room, he opened the door to the shower. Nicollette froze.
“What did you say?” Dom asked, not caring he was naked.
“I’m uh, getting my book,” she said sprinting to it, her back to him.
“Okay.” Nicollette turned around, seeing all of Dominic’s beautiful body. She could feel herself blushing. Embarrassed, she ran from the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“A body made by the Gods,” she whispered to herself, a grin forming on her lips.