Bound by Duty(23)

I really hoped it didn’t come to that. I knew the only orgasm Bibiana’s ever experienced was by her own hand, but I really didn’t want to share her fate.

“I’ll give it a try tonight,” I said, suddenly feeling more hopeful.

“Call me tomorrow. I want to know how it went.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know if something exciting happens.”

***

That night when Dante joined me in bed I gathered all my courage, scooted over to him and touched his naked chest. It was warm and firm. Dante stilled under my touch, his brows drawn together as he watched me. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. Dante deepened the kiss immediately, his tongue slipping into my mouth. This kiss was unlike the ones I’d experienced with Antonio. Dante claimed my mouth, making me tremble with the need for more. I let my hand slide lower, down his stomach. He drew back and gripped my hand, stopping its descend. He shook his head, his eyes alight with something dark and angry. “You should sleep now, Valentina.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending. What had just happened? He’d kissed me as if he wanted to devour me and then he stopped without an explanation. I snatched my hand out of his grasp, fighting the tears of anger rising into my eyes. Without a word, I rolled around, my back to Dante, and closed my eyes.

“I know you went to Bibiana without protection today. That won’t happen again. You can go wherever you want. You can even drive yourself, but from now on I want one of the guards at your side when you leave this house. It’s too dangerous for you outside these walls,” he said as if he hadn’t just kissed me, as if he wasn’t the slightest bit affected by what we’d done.

I pressed my lips tightly together. I wanted to scream in frustration, but instead more tears pooled in my eyes.

“Understood?” Dante asked after a while.

I had to bite back a scathing comment. “Yes, understood.”

We both fell silent again, not touching, as if we were two strangers forced into the same bed by accident. And that was actually too close to reality than I liked. The throbbing between my legs was almost unbearable, but it was clear that Dante wouldn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t sure what to do anymore.





CHAPTER EIGHT





Dante was a very private man. That’s what everyone always told me, which is why I knew how wrong it was for me to breach his privacy. But I needed to see the things Dante kept hidden behind the door Gaby had showed me. Maybe it would help me understand him better.

It was early afternoon, and Dante had left for a meeting at one of the Outfit’s underground casinos. I wasn’t sure when he’d be back but if the last two days since my embarrassing attempt at seduction were any indication, probably not before eight. It was silent in the house. Today was Gaby’s day off, and as usual Zita was busy in the kitchen and avoiding me.

I pushed down the handle and stepped into the room where Dante kept his dead wife’s memorabilia. The curtains were drawn, casting the room in darkness. I fumbled for the light switch but when I pressed it, nothing happened. I switched it back and forth a few more times until I decided that it was futile. After a moment of guilt-induced hesitation, I carefully felt my way toward the window and pulled the curtains apart. Coughing from a billow of dust from the heavy fabric, I blinked against the sudden light, my eyes tearing up. I wiped them quickly before I dared to look around.

There wasn’t a lamp attached to the ceiling, only a string of abandoned wires. No wonder the switch didn’t do anything. Dust particles danced in the air and a musty smell penetrated my nose. A fine layer of dust had gathered on every surface and even the ground. My footsteps were clearly visible. Briefly, panic threatened to overwhelm me. There was no way I could hide my presence in the room if my footprints were all over the floor, but the way the room looked nobody had set foot inside in a long time, not even Dante, so he’d never find out.

The room was cluttered with furniture and cardboard boxes. There was a dark wood wardrobe, two dressers and a king sized four-poster bed. Slowly realization dawned on me. This must have been the master bedroom Dante and his wife had shared before her death. At least, I wasn’t sleeping in the same bed where Dante had made love to his dead wife. I tiptoed toward the wardrobe. I wasn’t even sure why I was trying to be quiet but it felt almost sacrilegious to be in this room. I opened the wardrobe and was hit by the smell of disuse and old clothes. Two dozen dresses hung from padded pink hangers, everything from long ball gowns, over pretty cocktail dresses to casual summer dresses. Some of them looked like they might have belonged in my wardrobe, but of course they were too small for me.