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Eleni I take one last bite of the airy sorbet that the stuffy waiter brought for dessert and look at Dante. He’s barely glanced away from me since we stopped talking about work, and my body burns with it. I slide my leg out from under the long tablecloth, letting it catch my skirt and exposing inch after inch of skin. He watches me with darkening eyes. “Put that away,” he says. I smile. “Why?” “Because I don’t share well.” I tuck my leg back under the table. Seeing him relax after days of walking around in a fog is satisfying, though, and I’m not sure I want to give everything up yet. I toe out of one heel and run my foot up the inside of his calf. “How sure are you that you can wait?” I ask. He grasps the edge of the table. “What are you doing? I chuckle and keep running my foot s