“No reason.”
“Salvatore Ajello, open your eyes. Right now.”
He sighs. Opens his eyes.
“Pretty please?” I ask and smile widely.
His gaze travels to my mouth, then he reaches with his hand to trace the line of my lips with the tip of his finger.
“I want a psychological evaluation from a licensed animal psychologist, on paper, before it sets its paw in here.”
I squeal in delight and kiss the tip of his finger.
“You’re doing it on purpose,” he says, without taking his eyes off my lips.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know very well what your smile does to me, and you’re using it shamelessly.” His finger stills at the middle of my bottom lip. “I wonder if you are aware of what a weapon you are wielding.”
“It’s just a smile. Not a weapon.”
“And a gun is just a piece o
