ARYA’S POV
I stood frozen in the kitchen, my hand pressed against my burning cheek where his thumb had just been moments ago.
My heart was thudding so violently I could feel it in my throat and my fingertips.
I'd almost kissed Giovanni De Santis.
No… worse than that. I'd wanted to kiss him.
"It's the pasta," I muttered to myself, pacing in small circles around the kitchen island. "You're just hungry. Low blood sugar makes people do stupid irrational things."
But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie.
The pasta had nothing to do with the way my stomach had flipped when he'd touched my face or the heat that had pooled low in my belly when his eyes had darkened while looking at my mouth.
I pressed my palms against my cheeks, willing the flush to fade before he came back. I needed
