Catherine's POV
"You look even prettier than what I saw last night."
Dante stood frozen for a beat too long, his eyes dragging over me from head to toe as if he were trying to reconcile the girl standing in his hallway with the one he'd seen at the gala. His gaze stayed on my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
"You better stop looking at me like that," I said, breaking the silence. I reached out and poked my finger against the center of his bare, hard chest. It felt like prodding a statue. "Or I might actually melt, Mr. Dante."
I didn't wait outside any longer, else he would leave me at the door. I pushed past him, my shoulder brushing his arm, and stepped into the center of his room.
