He smiled even bigger, hoping to reassure her. “I know that now, Charlotte.” He saw it yesterday when he called her that: a flicker in her eyes he didn’t know what to make of then and still didn’t now. “Do you not like being called Charlotte?”

Those big blue eyes looked up at him as she shook her head. “No, I don’t mind. I just . . . I’m just a little surprised you remember.”

Going against everything he’d been telling himself since he walked into that party tonight, he took a step closer to her. “Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking yet another step closer to her. “I also remember you having more freckles. You cover them up?”

She nodded, staring at him the same way she had yesterday, the very way she had on the dance floor. As if she wanted to say more but wouldn’t—couldn’t. “Why?” Unable to hold back anymore, he touched the soft flesh of her cheek with the back of his hand gently. It felt as soft as he’d imagined, and the fact that she didn’t protest or even move away from him made his heart pound like it had when he held her earlier. “You don’t like them?”

Clearing her throat but not looking away, she stared right at him. “No, I don’t.”

“I like them.” Feeling intoxicated by the touch of her skin against his, he continued to caress the few freckles that weren’t concealed around her lips with the tips of his knuckles.

He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t now. The tips of his knuckles moved over her lips, and she closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering along with the very subtle but undeniable tremble of her body. She breathed in deeply and so did he. He had to. He was beginning to lose it. Staring at her lips for a moment, he tried one last time to convince himself he shouldn’t. Nothing in him, not his pounding heart, not his hungry lips, not his aching, growing need—none of it was cooperating here.

Leaning in slowly, he brought his hand around the back of her neck, touching his lips to hers and waited. Waited—his breathing growing heavier with anticipation—the need to taste her mouth insatiable now. He kissed her once, waiting again for a reaction. Then she parted her lips, and it was all he needed. Cradling her head with both hands now, he kissed her deeply, toying with her tongue, stopping only to suck her bottom lip before ravenously going back in for more.

Feeling her arms come around his back now, he took a few steps until they were leaning against the wall. A bit surprised that not only did she not object but she kissed him back eagerly, he wondered how far he should let this go. Sliding his mouth off her lips, he traced kisses down her jaw line to her soft neck. She smelled so damn good it made him feel crazed, and he sucked a bit harder than he anticipated. Then hearing her moan in response only made him suck harder. Pulling away when he remembered just how fair her skin was, he examined the area. He’d already left a mark. Luckily it was far back enough her hair would cover it. But not wanting to make it any darker, he kissed the spot one last time and went back to her lips.

To hell with Walter. He’d had his chance more than once, and he chose grubbing over dancing with Charlee. The guy had to be out of his f**king mind.

Pressing his body onto hers, feeling her soft br**sts push up against his chest, Hector pulled back. As much as that drove him crazy, something in him wanted to make this very clear to her. This wasn’t just about sex. Sure he had the biggest throbbing painful erection he could remember ever having, but that’s not what this was about. A part of him would love nothing more than to pull her dress up and f**k her right there if she’d let him. The way her body was responding to his, something told him she just might. There was a bigger part of him making him hold back: the same part of him that had him tossing and turning the whole damn night last night.

Finally there was a sign of restraint on Charlee’s part. She brought her hand to his chest and placed her open palm against it, pulling her lips away from his for the first time since he’d begun kissing her. Breathing heavily, Hector searched her eyes.

“Those girls,” she said, breathlessly then licked her lips. “The ones you were dancing with . . .”

Hector shook his head. He had a feeling that’s why she’d left. “They’re just friends.”

“They came here with you.”

Still trying to catch his breath, he shook his head again. “No, they walked in just as I was done my last interview, and we just so happened to walk in together.”

“I’m not like them.”

“I know,” he agreed quickly. God, did he know. She was completely different in every way.

She frowned. “I know that must sound really stupid too because I’m here with you now, but—”

“Trust me, Charlotte,” he said, gently lifting her chin with his finger. “I know you’re different.” He kissed the small crease that had formed between her eyes from her frowning then kissed her lips softly again. “So different,” he whispered then kissed her again. “So sweet.” He felt her exhale softly then smile against his lips.

Dropping her hand from his chest and then bringing it around his neck, she kissed him and gave into him completely again. Groaning, he kissed her as deeply as he had the very first time, feeling utterly crazed again. Every time they stopped for air, they were both panting now as if they’d both just had a very long drink of water—an incredibly delicious taste of water after days of going without. Coming up again, he had to laugh a little. This was insane. She laughed too, biting her lower lip.