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“That’s just my body guard bringing our dinner.  I told him to go to the restaurant I’d selected to take you tonight and pick up something so we could dine in since you obviously had forgotten about our date.”  She tried to jerk her hands out of his, but he tightened his grip and pulled her closer.  “Listen to me.  We’re going to have some dinner and talk, okay?  There’s nothing to be ashamed of here.  We’re both consenting adults and what we did was not wrong.”
    She didn’t answer him, too ashamed of having sex with a man she didn’t know on the floor of her studio .  It was a common joke that women paid for dinner with sex but she hadn’t even gotten him to take her out!  Not that she would have had sex with him afterwards.  Obviously, she wasn’t the type who was that promiscuous.  Or maybe she was, she thought with a horrible thought.  She turned away when she caught him sliding on his slacks.  He was about to answer the door when she tossed him his shirt.  “Please put this on.  Don’t let whoever that is know that we just did…this…in the amount of time it took for him to go get dinner!”
    Dante caught the shirt with one hand and almost chuckled at the idea that his guard wouldn’t know what had just happened.  He slipped the shirt on his arms, but left it open, not wanting to take the time to button it when he needed to get back to her, to calm her down. 
    She was a virgin…or had been less than fifteen minutes ago…and she obviously wasn’t used to the aftermath of a sexual encounter. 
    He opened the door and took the two large bags, slamming it shut a moment later and turning back t o see that his gorgeous companion was rapidly dressing, in more clothes than she’d had before he’d arrived.  In addition to her overalls and tank top, was now wearing a flannel shirt that came down to the middle of her thighs, plus a sweatshirt just for good measure. 
    “Please, can you just tell me your name?” she asked in a voice that cracked with the emotions she was dealing with. 
    Dante turned around and watched her carefully.  There was no guise to her, just embarrassment and self loathing.  He reacted instinctively to both and stopped emptying the bags on to the kitchen counter.  He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, ignoring her resistance and resting his chin against the top of her head.  “Believe it or not, this is not the way I’d planned tonight.”
    He felt her shrug and rubbed a hand down her back.  “Maybe tomorrow night,” he replied and felt better when he heard her snort of laughter. 
    “Don’t joke,” she said, but laughed slightly again.
    “I thought I mentioned earlier that I don’t joke about anything,” he said smoothly and smiled when he heard her laughter once again. 
    “My name is Dante Fuitello.”  He pulled back to look down at her.  “And you are Saha Willard, painter extraordinaire.”
    She couldn’t look him in the eye, preferring the middle of his chest.  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t say I’m pleased to meet you.”
    “I will not excuse you.   You’re acting like what we did was wrong and it wasn’t. ”
    Sasha put her hands on his hips, not sure what else to do with them but feeling awkward with his hands around her while her own hands were fisted at her sides.  “Well, it’s certainly a pleasure to know you’re name finally,” she said and her forehead dropped against his chest. 
    Dante’s hands rested against her delicate back and he looked up at the ceiling, trying to get control of himself.  He’d never let go like that before and damn if he didn’t want the same thing to happen again.  Even now as her shoulders shook with the emotions she was trying to suppress came out, he felt his body harden and the need that had been assuaged just minutes ago was driving him hard.  What was it about this woman that did this to him?  He was always in control, always steady and logical.  It was