"Get one thing straight, right now, Ms. Vitalio," he murmured right against the shell of her ear, that voice — that voice of whiskey and sin — rolling down her spine in waves, spreading throughout her body, pooling low in her belly. The sensation of those lips made her chest heave against the wooden door. The wooden door that was the only barrier between them and a restaurant full of people, including her father, who wouldn't hesitate to kill either of them.
