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Seeing him there, Quinn was intensely grateful she had packed her most conservative pajamas.
The long-sleeved silk top and pants covered her from neck to ankle, leaving absolutely nothing exposed.
Vigorously towel-drying her wet hair, she shot him a hostile glare.
"Did you get lost, Mr. Hayes? Your room is next door."
Dante couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
A faint sheen of moisture still clung to her skin, her radiant complexion practically glowing.
Her dark, heavy hair fell wildly over her shoulders, the damp ends dripping droplets of water onto her collarbone.
Some women could be covered head-to-toe and still radiate an utterly intoxicating, lethal sensuality.
Quinn was one of them.
The fresh scent of her body wash mingled perfectly with her natural, addictive fragrance.
It was clean, pure, and utterly devastating to his self-control.
As she looked up at him through a veil of wet lashes, the cold, defensive guard in her eyes only made the tension that much more seductive.
Dante's Adam's apple bobbed as he closed the distance between them.
"Dante."
Quinn’s sharp tone stopped him in his tracks. "It's late. Whatever you want to say, it can wait until tomorrow."
As she spoke, her gaze darted protectively toward Leo, who was fast asleep on the bed.
Dante stared at her, completely spellbound. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all evening, yet looking at her made him feel entirely drunk.
"Quinn, once the gala is over and the IPO goes through, let's take a trip to see Grandma."
Quinn nodded, deciding not to fight him on this one point.
"Let me know when you're ready to go."
After surviving her brutal brain surgery, old Mrs. Hayes had moved to the countryside to recover. Quinn hadn't been able to visit her for months.
She could easily go alone, but she knew showing up without her husband would only send the elderly woman into a panic.
Going together would keep up the illusion that their marriage was stable, allowing the matriarch to rest in peace.
"Quinn, now that you're here... could you please just stay?"


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