The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

even own a proper evening gown was probably not to his standards if he
looked so displeased.
I ignored the discomfort in the pit of my stomach and snatched the first
emotion that I could get ahold of. One that was extremely easy to summon
when it came to him. “Aaron Blackford,” I hissed, finding my voice. “What
in the world is wrong with you?!” My chest heaved up and down. “Don’t you
know how to knock?”
“I knocked.” His tone was hard, matching his expression. “Twice.” That
stupidly deep voice of his reverberated through my bathroom.
“I could have been naked, you know.”
Aaron shifted in front of me, not letting go of the knob. His large fingers
gripping it in a way that made me wonder if it would give out under the
pressure.
“But you are not,” he said, voice still hard. “You are definitely not
naked.”
My gaze shot from his hand to his face. Just in time to watch how those
two blue eyes jumped to my shoulders, traveled along my neck, and then
returned to my eyes. His expression clouded further as we looked at each
other for a long moment.
My palms started sweating, the longer neither of us said anything.
Jesus, what is even happening?
My heart raced faster, the more the air filled up with a tension I didn’t
understand.
It was almost suffocating. Much more than earlier in the kitchen. So
much that I felt how my guard came down, all kinds of thoughts assaulting
my mind with nothing to stop the bruising.
“Is there …” I broke the silence. My voice coming out breathy. “Is there
anything wrong?”
He shook his head. Just once. His eyes bounced down my body again
very quickly. “You found a gown.”
“I did,” I admitted, looking down briefly. “It’s been such a long time
since I last went on a date that I forgot it was even there.” I watched his
expression take on a new edge, making me feel incredibly stupid for saying
something like that. “Well, that doesn’t matter. Not that I’d wear this to any
date anyway, I guess. It’s the only one I have, so I hope it’s okay.”
I passed my sweaty palms along my thighs, stopping myself at the
prospect of messing with the fabric.