Chapter 10- Controlling Bastard
Steam filled my bathroom as I unzipped my emerald dinner dress, letting the silk pool at my feet. My reflection in the mirror looked tired, shadows undering eyes
The massive painting of my back hanging in the Peterson Gallery
I reached for my robe, the soft cashiere a small comfort against my skin. I will talk to Mark. End whatever lingering hope he still carried. Move forward with this elaborate charade of a life Ed chosen
Or rather, had chosen for mr.
The bathroom door slammed open with enough force to rattle the crystal vases on my vanity.
“What the actual [–“I spun around to find Dante filling the doorway, still in his dinner sua but with his tie loosened and his usual perfect control nowhere in sight. His eyes were dark with fury, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping.
“My Lova?” he spa the words like they burned. “You let another man call you his love? Let the whole city see your bare back on deplay like
some
“First of all.” I cut in, clutching my robe tighter, “knock much I could have been naked”
“Your back is naked enough in that painting!” He stalked closer, radiating the kind of dangerous energy Id only seen harms of before. “Every society photographer in the city was at that opening. Every gossip columnist. Do you have any idea what this looks like?”
I should have been scared. Or at least angry at his presumption. Instead, something warm and inappropriate flickered in my stomach at the raw emotion in his voice. This wasn’t his used calculated control. This was, something else.
“It’s a painting, Dante. Not a sex tape.” I forced my voice to stay calm. “And it’s from three years ago. Ancient history.”
“Ancient?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “He’s calling you his love now. Present tense. And that painting His eyes raked over me. Landing on where my robe gaped slightly at the neck. “That’s not how a man paints someone he’s over.”
“Mark and I are done,” I said firmly, “Have been for years. And even if this is fast a contract morrage, I have no intention of
“Contract” He moved closer still, backing me against the marble counter. “Is that what you think gives him the right to show the world what’s mine?”
Heat rashed through me at his words, at the possessive growl in his voice. “I’m not yours.” I managed, but my voice shook slightly. “This is business, Temember?
His hands gripped the counter on either side of me, caging me in. “Business, he repeated softly. Dangerously. “Right. Which is why I’m calling Marco right now. Having that painting removed. And if Sullivan’s lucky, that’s all that gets removed.”
“What?” That snapped me out of whatever spell his proximity had car. You can’t do that!“
“Watch me.” He pulled back, reaching for his phone. “One call. That’s all it takes to shut down his little show, daybe break a few fingers while we’re m it. See how well he paints then.”
I grabbed his wrist before he could dial. ‘Are you insane? You can’t just–this isn’t how normal people handle things!”
“I’m not normal people.” His eyes fixed on where my fingers circled his wrist. “I’m a Romano, And Romanos protect what’s theirs.”
you’re
“I’m not yours!” I said again, louder this time. And you can’t just order your people around at one in the morning to commit crimes because y having some kind of masculine crisis! I’ll handle this myself II talk to Mark.
The phone clattered to the floor as he spun me back against the counter, his mouth crashing into mine with braising force. One hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave marks. The kiss wasn’t gentle or sweet or anything like the careful shows we put on for
cameras.
This was raw. Angry. Real.
I should have pushed him away. Should have slapped him for his presumption. Instead, I found myself kissing him back with equal fury, my fingers clutching his shirt, pulling him closer as steam swirled around us
“Talk to him?” he growled against my lips. “Like hell you will.”
His mouth moved to my neck, finding that spot that made me gap. The only marks anyone sees on you,” he said between kisses that felt like
brands are mine.”
To prove his point, he sucked hard at my pulse point, definitely leaving the kind of mark my designer gowns wouldn’t hide. I should have been outraged. Instead, hear pooled low in my belly,
“Controlling bastard.” I managed, but it came out more like a moan as his hands slid under my robe, finding harekin
He chuckled darkly against my throat, “You like it”
“Tute you”
“Liar.” His fingers traced up my sides, leaving fire in their wake. “Your body remembers dut night, cam Every touch. Every sound you made for
12ST
Chapter 10–Controlling Bastant
God help me, but he was right. My body sang with memories of that night, of how perfectly we’d fit together, of pleasure so intense it had scared
“That was a mistake,” I gasped as his thuumb brushed the underside of my breast.
“Was it?” He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own dark with desire and something else. Something that looked dangerous close to possession. “Then why are you trembling!”
“Because you’re infuriating” I mean it to sound angry,
y, but my voice was breathless. “And presumptuous. And—”
He cut me off with another kiu, this one slower but no less intense. His tongue traced my lower lip until I opened for him with a small sound that made him growl in satisfaction
“No other man touches you,” he murmured against my mouth. “No other man paints you or photographs you or calls you love. For the next two
year, you’re mine. Contract or not.”
I should have argued. Should have pointed out how archaic and possessive that sounded. Instead, I found myself arching into his touch as his hands moved lower, pushing the robe up my thight
“The gala.” I managed weakly. Tomorrow.. we have co…”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, lifting me onto the commer. “But right now. His fingers found the tie of my robe. “Right now. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” Lassed, even as my legs wrapped around his waist.
He smiled against my skin, that dangerous smile that had started this whole mess. “Well see about that, cara”
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