Exclusive Excerpt from Made in Lisbon
by Ana Newfolk
I heard the noise of a key at the door as I was turning the corner from the corridor and stopped in my tracks in the middle of the living room when the door opened.
Big brown eyes stared at me from behind dark-rimmed glasses. We were locked in position for minutes or hours, I wasn’t sure.
As those deep eyes left mine and started drifting down my body, I remembered I was only wearing a towel and blood had started rushing south. No wonder I’d lost the ability to think, let alone question why I was facing the beautiful young man I’d kissed at the bar just over a week ago.
“What are you doing here?”
There was a hint of anger in his voice. What the hell?
“Do you work for the agency?” I asked.
“What?”
The ding coming from the elevator made us both jump and realize the front door was still open behind him.
He turned to close the door but didn’t shut it all the way, like it would be a bad thing to have us both together within the four walls of the apartment.
“Look, I’m not sure what’s happening but I’m feeling a little underdressed. Do you mind if I go put some clothes on and then we can figure this out?”
“Fine.” He huffed as I turned back toward the master bedroom.
When I returned to the living room he wasn’t there and the front door was closed properly. I followed the noise of the coffee machine. He didn’t hear me approach so I was able to take him in as he moved around the kitchen like he was at home.
His jeans clung to his ass like they were made to measure, and he’d changed from a shirt to a long-sleeve T-shirt that fit his slim form perfectly.
When we’d met at the bar he’d been sitting down, and then when I’d kissed him my brain was all but short-circuiting. All I remembered about him, apart from the feel of his body against mine, and his soft sweet lips, were his eyes. That shade of dark chocolate I’d wanted nothing but to indulge in.
I forced myself to look away and get my lust under control. The guy was too young and I was definitely not on the market. For goodness sake, I loved my husband.
He went to the fridge and took the plates of ham and cheese, and I saw he had a few slices of bread ready to make a sandwich. Shit, maybe the guy lived here and this had been a mistake by the agency. To think I actually thought the agency had been extra efficient by giving me some welcome groceries. Unfortunately, it was too late to call them and clarify, so we’d have to agree on some kind of arrangement for tonight.
He didn’t turn from his sandwich preparation. “I’m starving and assumed you might need something to eat too. Is a sandwich okay?”
“Yes, thank you. You’re right, you caught me on my way to prepare something to eat. I want to help, but I haven’t been here long enough to locate the cups and cutlery.”
“That cupboard, first door, bottom shelf, and the spoons are in that drawer.” He pointed to the cupboard on his left-hand side.
Once I located the cups and filled them with fresh coffee we sat at the table with our food.
“So,” we both said at the same time.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Vítor, yours?”
He stopped what he was doing and stared at me for a few seconds before he shook his head like he was shaking an errant thought and put his hand out in my direction.
“I’m Tiago. Nice to meet you, Vítor.”
We both laughed. We were introducing ourselves like we’d never met before when only days ago we’d had our ton.
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