Sophia’s POV
My heart was racing as I knelt beside him, the Persian rug soft beneath my knees. The intricate patterns beneath my palms seemed to blur as every nerve in my body focused on the man before me.
The silence in the study was deafening, broken only by the soft ticking of the antique clock on his desk and the barely audible sound of our breathing.
Oh my God.
The realization hit me like a physical shock, stealing the air from my lungs. He was magnificent. Powerful. Completely, overwhelmingly masculine in a way that made my mouth go dry and my hands shake with something that definitely wasn't fear. The evidence of his arousal was impossible to ignore, impossible to dismiss as anything other than what it was—proof that every assumption about Vito Romano had been devastatingly wron
