A Steamy Opposites Attract Second Chance Romance

Prologue

Two years ago…

“He’s staring again.” Carol tilts her head, edging closer with a smirk, nudging my arm toward the man seated in the booth opposite ours.

“Not my business,” I mutter, resisting the urge to glance his way. He’s half-hidden in the shadows, the club’s lights cutting across his face just enough to highlight his jawline—a jawline that’s hard to ignore. “How do you know he’s staring?”

“How about you stop pretending you don’t care and go talk to him?” Carol laughs, raising her brows when I wince.

“Talk to him? What makes you think I want him to talk to me?” I don’t even know why we’re discussing him. We’re supposed to be celebrating Carol’s new apartment, not fixating on some guy who looks like he’s carved from stone. He hasn’t smiled once all night—not that I’ve been paying attention.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we’re still talking about him? And you’re staring as much as he is. Come on, girl.” Carol pauses, her eyes suddenly wide. “Oh, shit! He’s coming over. Right now!”

My heart jumps into my throat like I’ve fallen off a cliff without a parachute. Sweat coats my palms as nervous energy courses through me. I fight the urge to confirm if she’s right.

Meanwhile, Carol is doubled over with laughter, clutching her waist, her brown hair falling over her face like a curtain. I glare at her, clueless as to what’s so funny. She straightens up, inhales deeply, and grins. “You should have seen your face.”

I roll my eyes and lean back into the dark leather couch—until a voice whispers right by my ear. “Magnifica.”

I freeze in place, too dazed to speak or move. Marco leaned over the back of the couch, his breath grazing my skin. He’s too close, invading my space. Yet, all I want is for him to get closer—to feel more of his warmth around me.

I tip my head back to meet his gaze and immediately regret it. His crystal blue eyes clash with his furrowed brow and the sharp lines of his jaw. His musky scent filters into my lungs. I hold my breath momentarily before catching myself and tilting my head to see his face more clearly, my voice rising higher than I’d like. “What did you say?”

Without asking, he slides into the chair next to me, hand held out, forcing me to scoot away from him with a perplexed look. “Gorgeous. I said you look gorgeous.”

“Oh,” I gasp, throwing a panicked glance at Carol. I hope he doesn’t notice her, but she’s staring like she’s front-row at a Taylor Swift concert.

“I’m Marco. Mind if we dance?” He phrases it like a question, but his tone suggests it’s anything but.

I smile nervously, tilting my head back to meet those piercing, deep-set eyes of his. “I’m a terrible dancer. I’ll probably just step all over your feet.”

He grins, and my heart flutters in a way I didn’t authorize. “I’m sure I won’t mind. Got any other excuses?”

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