Sins of My Father (Black Brothers #1) by Lisa Cardiff Page A

avoided him as my gaze rolled over every item someone else had selected for him.
    Golden starburst pillows.
    A full-length walnut mirror propped against the entry wall.
    The hammered silver coffee table cluster.
    Meaningless leather bound books chosen for color not content.
    “Maybe a little,” I said breezily, trying to wash away any lingering uncomfortable feelings with my overly cheery tone. It didn’t work.
    Toying with the cuffs of his slightly wrinkled light-blue shirt, his dark eyes studied me. “I texted the concierge my normal order plus a couple things I thought you might like. He’ll bring up our food in forty-five minutes or so, depending on how busy the restaurant is. Is that okay with you?”
    “Sounds great,” I said, my voice flat. I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the waterfall stainless steel countertop on the kitchen island. When did I become so fragile that one little comment sent my confidence into a downward spiral?
    I turned away as he sauntered toward me. A medley of aqua glass and stainless tiles ran the length of the backsplash. The glare of the incandescent lighting reflected from the shiny materials, creating little starbursts of light on the medium-brown horizontal grained cabinets.
    “Did the comment about the interior designer upset you?”
    My cheeks heated. “Not really. I have thick skin. Don’t worry about me.” It was the truth. Living with my mom forced me to grow a tortoise-like shell around my heart. I hated that he pierced it so easily. “Besides, it isn’t my business. We hardly know each other.”
    “That’s not what I asked.”
    I ran my finger over the smooth countertop, still not meeting his heavy gaze. “It’s not important.”
    His hands looped around my waist, and he pulled my back against his chest. His spicy scent infiltrated the air around me, ensuring I couldn’t ignore him even if his touch didn’t do the trick.
    “Truly, she was only a friend. I suspected she wanted more, and that’s why she’s not part of my life anymore. If it annoys you, I’ll change some of the stuff in here, make it more mine.”
    I spun within the confines of his arms. “That’s silly. You don’t have to do that for a woman you just met. They’re just things, and if you don’t think they mean anything, I believe you.”
    He cradled my face with his long-fingered hands like I was precious cargo, and even if his eyes weren’t smoldering with desire, I would’ve been a goner. When was the last time someone looked at me like that? Like they wanted me. Like I was special. Like I was worth the trouble. Maybe never, or maybe it had been so long that it seemed like never.
    “It’s not a big deal. I don’t love everything anyway, and I want you to be comfortable at my place, not turning every corner imagining another woman’s dreams in everything you see.”
    His lashes lowered, and all of his concentration focused on me with swoon-worthy attention to detail, thawing me from the inside out. At that instant, I realized I was in trouble—in trouble of really falling for Archer. My heart raced and my hands trembled as I circled my arms around his waist, beneath his suit jacket but over his shirt.
    One hand still cupped my face as he tangled the other one into my hair. We stood frozen in painful anticipation, his mouth hovering inches from mine, and then he kissed me gently, lovingly even, one beautiful brush of his lips at a time. His lips were warm, and his breath smelled minty. I wanted to taste more of him…all of him.
    My tongue darted out of my mouth, licking the seam of his lips. Then, without a second to process the consequence of my actions, the kiss tumbled into a frantic tug of war that successfully wiped my mind of any kiss I had shared with any other man before Archer. Stroke by stroke, we consumed each other.
    Nothing compared.
    Nothing came close.
    Our tongues danced in perfect synchronicity as though we were created for each other. We couldn’t