Casanova In Training by Aliyah Burke Page B

it. While she normally only drank water, if it was to be something else she drank tea.
    Thunder boomed and she jumped, her heart pounding out of control. The whistle of the kettle snapped her from standing there with one hand over her hammering chest. She grabbed the black pot, filled her mug to the proper line, and put the top on so it could steep for about three minutes. All I want is to drink my tea and go to bed. While she waited, she leaned against the cool counter and tried to begin the task of repairing the cracks in her internal armour, so she would be good at work the following day.
    Instinctively knowing when her drink was ready, she removed the top, flipped it over, and withdrew the infuser, placing it on the inverted lid. Slowly and with a partially distracted manner, she headed for her couch. Seated on the edge, she blew across the top of her cup and drank the tea. Once she’d had a few sips she set it beside her on the end table, lay her head back, and closed her eyes. That was all it took and she was asleep.
    Bam! Bam! Bam!
    The noise jerked her upright. She glanced out of the windows wondering if it had merely been thunder. When the intrusive noise came again she realised it hadn’t. Her breathing was shallow and rapid as she tried to sort out what was going on. She’d been dreaming of the near crash and could feel the sweat beginning to trickle down her spine.
    She got off the couch and made her way to the front door. She felt discombobulated, and like she was swimming through a mire. Wiping a damp hand down her face, she opened the door. Her breath caught in her throat for an entirely different reason this time.
    Deep down, she knew she should demand her visitor leave but the words never surfaced. The lights from the hall illuminated him, creating an even more impressive view. His countenance was a mixture of stern concern and tenderness as he studied her intently, raking her up and down with hazel eyes.
    She had no time to react before Gio, in a lightning-fast motion, drew her to him. His fingers dug into her flesh as he held her immobile against his body. She could hear him muttering under his breath. As fast as he’d grabbed her, he released her.
    Staring up at him, she could see lines of worry in his face. His hands cupped her cheeks and the intensity of his kiss sapped the remaining energy she had. Her knees buckled but his strength held her up. In the back of her mind, she registered the door slamming yet he never stopped kissing her. There was desperation in this exchange and it gnawed at her confidence.
    Jerking free, she stumbled back and touched her still tingling lips. She was torn. His kisses were wonderful, amazing, and more. The reaction she’d just had scared her. She didn’t need to lose her poise or resilience, not now, and especially not in front of the one man who seemed determined to stop her from flying. Gripping the top of her robe closed, she turned on a lamp and stared at the wet man in her apartment.
    Gio wore jeans, a T-shirt, a ball cap, and boots. His typical attire. He stared at her, his eyes burning her as he scrutinised her. She became keenly aware that she only wore her nearly threadbare robe. He prowled towards her, every step predatory. His fingers flexed and her heart sped up.
    She backed away until she had the cooktop island between them. “Why are you here?” she asked, scrunching her fingers along the cool counter. She wished she had something warm to oppose the chills moving through her.
    “Because I almost lost you today. I wanted to see how you were doing.” His voice sounded deeper than usual but his words were spoken with quiet emphasis.
    More of that doubt crept in and she fought off a shudder. “I’m not yours to lose and I’m fine.”
    His eyes narrowed dangerously and he leaned towards her over the only thing separating them. The countertop.
    “The hell you’re not,” he growled. “And I doubt you’re fine either.”
    She swallowed and ignored