He nodded, and she felt his chin dip into her hair. “I do understand. I went through something similar about a year ago. And it doesn’t make you irrational. It makes you human.”
Lily was so overwhelmed by his kind words that she didn’t know how to respond, so she simply stayed silent, wrapped in his embrace. She didn’t know how much time passed as she stood there, letting him ease her nerves, until she finally drew back a bit, pressing against his firm chest, which caused her hips to pitch forward into his.
And the jolt of heat between them sparked all the way up his body into his eyes. The warm brown of his eyes deepened even more, becoming nearly black as he slowly pushed forward, his face only a hairsbreadth away from hers. She felt his breath on her lips, and she licked them in response as her heart threatened to explode with excitement. He slid his hand to her waist, pulled her just a fraction more against his body, where she could now feel his powerful cock pressing into her lower belly—
A loud knock sounded on the door, and she sprang away from him as though she were a teenager again, when her dad caught her kissing Will Newhouse on the front porch after their first date.
“Room service,” a cheerful, accented voice floated through the door, and Komarov bit out a growling curse.
“Coming!” he shouted, and with one last, heated look at Lily, he went to open the door.
…
A part of Bruno wanted to silently curse the hapless waiter who arrived bearing their meal, but the interruption was probably for the best. If left alone for one more minute, chances are that they would have been too wrapped up in one another to even hear the knock. Still, he had to work hard to push away the images of a panting, gasping Lily that were crowding into his mind. What was it about this woman that got him so worked up, so impatient?
He definitely did not feel this aroused out of sympathy. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel bad about the shitty week—hell, the shitty relationship—that she’d endured. It was simply that he wanted her apart from all that.
But she had been emotional, and he shouldn’t have taken advantage of that. Thankfully, the waiter had stopped him. If he had tried to take it further, ignoring that she might end up regretting getting involved with him while she was distressed, he would have felt like a jerk for only adding to her problems.
He conversed briefly with the waiter, tipped him some pesos, and beckoned to Lily, who was still standing by the desk, to come and eat. The waiter had covered a small table in the room with a tablecloth and pulled up two chairs on either side, pouring two glasses of wine, as well, before leaving.
He hoped the wine that she had ordered would help to relieve some of her stress, even if only temporarily. After everything that had happened to her this week, she deserved to relax.
Sex could also relax her, he suggested to himself.
But he tamped that down immediately. No, no, and no.
Besides, she looked pretty shell-shocked, and he was worried now that he had scared her with that almost-kiss. He wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to eat alone in her room with the door locked.
He smiled at her as she approached the table, trying to look like he didn’t want to eat her up. He held out her chair and pushed it in as she sat, then took his own seat across from her and picked up his wineglass.
“Here’s to smooth flying tomorrow.” He kept his tone light. Friendly.
She picked up her glass and licked her lips, and he tracked it with his eyes like a fox scenting a hare. “Here’s to unexpected cancellations,” she murmured, and tipped her glass forward slightly, her eyes never leaving his, even when they both took a sip of the dry Chilean red.
Bruno shifted in his seat as his erection pressed up against the fabric of his sweatpants.
Definitely hadn’t scared her.
Out of habit, he held the wine on his tongue for a while, testing the flavor with his palate. It was a good wine. He glanced over and recognized the cork and label from another family vineyard that neighbored his grandparents’ place.
He set down his glass and picked up his fork, trying to keep his hands busy so that they wouldn’t be all over her. She might have just caressed him with her eyes, but it was hardly a clear invitation for what he wanted to do.
“You speak Spanish,” she blurted.
His hands stilled for a moment, then he grinned. “Sí,” was his only reply before he popped a piece of steak in his mouth. Damn, that was good. At that moment, with a good Chilean wine at hand and a perfectly cooked Chilean steak on his plate, he felt pretty proud to be of Chilean descent.
She looked at him expectantly, one eyebrow raised, as she chewed her own steak.
He swallowed and took a sip of wine. “Like two steers in a cud-chewing competition.”