Chapter 12- Game On, Cara
Lucia Sunlight filtered through floor–to–ceiling windows, panting Dante’s bedroom in shades of gold. The sheets beneath me were Egyptian cotton, impossibly sofi against my skin. Everything in this room spoke of precise hisury, from the hand knotted Persian rug to the abstract art piece that probably cost more than most homes.
I’d ended up here again. In his bed. In his world.
Memories of last night flooded back his possessive hands, his demanding mouth, the way he’d marked me as his over and over until I couldn’t remember my own name. The way I’d let him.
“Stop overthinking, cara”
Isumed to find Dante watching me, his dark eyes intense even in the soft morning light. He lay on his side, the sheets pooled low on his hips, displaying the kind of physical perfection that belonged in Renaissance sculptures. The crown of thorns tattoo on his bicep seemed to shift as he moved, a reminder of exactly who and what he was
Im not overthinking,” Iled “TijucL”
“Regresting!” His voice held an edge that hadn’t been there last right when he’d whispered tralian endearments again my s
skin
Flaming my escape before your control–freik tendencies kick in fully.” I sat up, clutching the sheet in my chest like armor. “Last night was
“Incredible.” He caught my wrist before I could leave the bed, his thumb finding my pulse point. “Don’t present it wasn’t
Heat rashed through me at his ronch, at the memories at ranked. My body was covered in evidence of last night’s passion – small marks that his mouth had left like claims of ownership. The thought should have made me angry. Instead, it made me ache for more.
“I was a mistake,” I said firmly, pulling my wrist free. “Like the first time, We’re supposed to be maintaining professional distance, remember! Your perfect political marriage?”
His jaw ticked – that tell that meant he was controlling his temper “Professional doesn’t mean cold”
“No, but it does mean not attacking me in my bathroom because you’re jealous of a painting”
“I wasn’t jealous.” He sat up, all coiled power and dangerous grace. “I was protecting our arrangement.”
“By marking your territory” [touched a particularly vivid bruise on my collarbone. “Very sophisticated, Don Romano.”
Something darkened in his eyes. “You weren’t complaining last night when I made those marks.“
Las he’d claimed
Heat flooded my cheeks as fragments of memory flashed my nails scoring his back, my voice begging in halian, his satisfied p me again and agains. Then a sobering thought hit me like ice water had we used protection? The night was a blur of passion and possession, and I couldn’t remember il…
I didn’t remember the later part of last night. Too tired, “Last night.” I started, hating the tremor in my voice. “Did we..”
“Every time,” he answered immediately, understanding my unspoken question. His voice softened slightly. “I wouldn’t risk that, car Not with you,”
I nodded, but made a mental note to get Plan B anyway Contract marriage or not, an unplanned pregnancy want part of the deal
My phone buzzed from somewhere on the floor, saving me from having to respond. I slipped from the bed, wrapping myself in his discarded dress shin before retrieving. The message on the screen made my bean slop
Mark. We need to talk. The paimane un’t just art. There are things you need to know about Dante. Meet me. Please
“Problem” Dante’s voice had gone dangerously soft
I deleted the message quickly. “Nothing important.”
He moved with that liquid grace that made him so lethal, suddenly right behind me. “Your pulse jumped when you read in. Your hands are sluking His fingers traced down my arm somehow both a caress and a warning.
I pulled away, gathering my scattered clothes. “It’s none of your Insiness anyway. We may be engaged, but you don’t own me.”
“No?” He caught me around the waist, pulling me back against his chest. His lips found that sentitive spot behind my ear that made my “Your body says differently.”
knees weak
“My body needs coffee before dealing with your possessive camerun routine.” I squirmed free, ignoring the way my skin burned where he’d touched me. “I’m going to shower in my own bathroom Alone”
“Breakfast is at right,” he called as I headed for the door. “Don’t be late.”
1 paused in the doorway, unable to resist one parting shot. “Or what? You’ll spank me?‘
His low chuckle followed me into the hallway. “Careful what you wish for, cara
An hour later, I sat across from him at the breakfast table, both of us dressed for bacle. His churrcal suit was Brioni, perfectly tailored to his powerful frame. My own armor was Chanel – a cream dress that managed to hide most of his marks while still being appropriate for the charity board meeting I had later.
“The Downtown Development Committee meets al ten,” he said, not looking up from his tablet. They want to discuss the harbor project.”
“I have foundation meetings all day.” I sipped my coffee, pretending my body wasn’t humming from his proximity. “Send me the briefs and I’ll review them tonight.”
Chapter 12- Game On Car
“Tonight I have dinner with the police commissioner.”
“Fine. Tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow I’m in meetings about the casino expansion.”
“Then I guess the harbor will have to wait.”
He sen down his tablet, fixing me with that intense stare that made moguls and politicians squirm. “You’re avoiding me.”
“Tm working. You know, that thing independent women do when they’re not playing trophy wife!”
My phone buzzed again. Fignored it, but Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Sullivan again“”
“None of your business.”
“Everything about you is my business.” He reached across the table, his fingers catching my chin. “Remember why we’re doing this, cam. Remember
“How could I forger?” I pulled away from his touch. “You remind me every time I step our of line.”
“Luria-”
“I have to go.” I stood, gathering my purse and tablet. The prescription from my emergency pharmacy visit felt like it was burning a hole in my bag. Even if he said we’d been careful. I couldn’t rak it. Not with him. Not like this “Wouldn’t want to be late for my carefully scheduled appearance as the perfect fianode.”
“Running aoray again?” His voice held that dangerous edge. “Like you ran from Sullivan!”
ry time you wan
“Don’t “1 whirled on him, anger rising hot and fast. “You don’t get to throw Mark in my face every you want to pick a fight”
He stood slowly, all contained power and lethal grace. “Then stop giving me reasons in remind you of your past mistakes.“
“Mistakes?” laughed, the sound brittle. “You want to talk about mistakes? How about attacking me in my bathroom like some territorial animal How abom marking me up like you own me?”
“You werent complaining when I made those marks. He moved closer, backing the against the breakfast table. “In fact, if I remember correctly, you begged for more. In very creative Italian I might add.”
“Valando.” I spat, using one of those creative talian phrases.
His eyes darkened. “Careful, resoro. Don’t start something you can’t fish”
“Like you started last night?” I pushed against his chest, needing space before I did something stupid lake kiss him again. “Was that about me,
Or was it about your wounded male pride because another man dared to paint me?”
“It was about reminding you who you belong to now!
“I don’t belong to anyone! The words come out as a near shout “This is a business arrangement.remember? Your perfect political solucion? Well, congratulations- you’ve got your trophy wife. Just don’t expect me to act like your property ”
His voire stopped me as the door. That painting voies down. Today, Either Sullivan handles it, or my men will.”
Iturned slowly, meeting his dark gaze. Touch that painting and I’ll give every tabloid in the cry an exclusive about our contract marriage. Try me” Something like respect flickered in his eyes, followed quickly by that dangerous possessiveness that made my pulse race. “Ganie on, cara”
I swept out before he could see how his words affected me. In the elevator. I pulled out the small pharmacy bag, staring at the Plan B pill inside. Jus because he said we’d been careful didn’t mean I could trust ham. Trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford, not in this world of power plays and political marriages
My hands shook as I took the pill with a sip of water from my purse. Another message from Mark lit up my phone screen, but I deleted it without reading One crisis at a time was enough.
I was playing with fire, and I knew it. But as I stepped into the elevator, I couldn’t decide which was more dangerous Mark’s warnings about Danne, or my growing addiction to the man himself
The marks on my skin throbbed like a reminder, and I wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a promise of what was to come.
