Gold(22)

A few doors still had faint light coming out from under them, and she sighed in relief that she seemed to be the only one up. As she crept down the stairs and into the kitchen, the floor creaked, and she tensed up.

She looked around her and then relaxed as she went to the fridge. Glancing inside at her options, she decided to treat herself to some orange juice. She poured a glass and sat at the counter with it, listening to the rapid beating of her heart.

Dante’s face burned in her mind. Those gold eyes, hot and cold at the same time. Almond-shaped, exotic. That hard jaw, tensed whenever he was angry, usually for her sake.

That perfect nose she liked to stare at from the side.

She pushed her juice away and rested her head on her arms. What the hell was she doing? Maybe she was an idiot. Maybe this was why she fiercely avoided romance and letting people in.

Maybe she should just go back upstairs to Dante and tell him in no uncertain terms that he needed to keep this a business arrangement and nothing more.

But her heart ached slightly at the thought. Even if he was just trying to help her have fun because it was his job, why shouldn’t she enjoy it for once?

As long as she didn’t allow herself to be fooled as she had in the past, she should be fine in letting herself live a little.

She heard footsteps approach the cabin and male voices, and her heart thudded as she wondered if she could run for the stairs before the door opened.

“Nah, I’m staying here the next few nights,” a familiar, unwelcome voice said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

She pushed off her stool and was about to run for the stairs when the door opened and shut, the living room light flicked on, and she found herself face to face with Cliff.

Her worst nightmare.

She straightened, trying to look brave and unaffected. You aren’t seventeen anymore. You don’t idolize him. You know what a monster he is.

She glanced up at the bedroom where Dante was. Too far away. And even though he’d been there for her, she was still stuck in her own stupid independence, too afraid to call for him. Too afraid to expect something that would be crushing if she didn’t get it.

“Ella,” Cliff said softly, walking forward with a confident grin. “Just the girl I wanted to see. I’ve been wanting to catch you without that big brute around.”

She backed up and made a run for the stairs, but he caught up to her, slamming his hands down on the railing on either side of her, trapping her.

Darkness clouded her mind, foggy memories pushing through, stifling her, making it hard to breath.

She shoved at his chest until she heard a door open at the top of the stairs.

“Ella,” Dante called, snapping her out of her stupor and giving her a chance to escape as Cliff slowly pulled back.

She ran up the stairs to Dante, and he pulled her inside and then shut the door.

Her heart was still hammering as she stumbled to the bed and sat on it.

She finally came back to her senses when the door was shut and locked and Dante faced her.

“Just who the fuck was that, and what was he doing with my woman?” He turned to go. “Hold on while I go beat the shit out of him.”

She grabbed the bottom of his shirt. “No, don’t go.”

He stopped, his harsh gold eyes softening as he looked at her. He sat on the bed with a sigh.

“Okay.” He took her hand. “If you insist.”

“I insist,” she muttered, surprised by the soothing feel of his touch.

“What did he do to you?” Dante asked firmly.

“Nothing.”

“Not now, in the past. Why does he make you react like that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t.”

He gently tilted up her chin so she had to face him. “Please, Ella. If I’m going to protect you, I need to know.”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “I’ll be more careful. I won’t be around him. I’m just glad you didn’t punch him.”

“I will punch him if he touches my woman again.”

“I’m not your woman,” she muttered under her breath, leaning into him. He scooted back on the bed and rested against the headboard, bringing her with him and pulling her onto his lap.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

He put a hand in her hair, gently stroking. “And is this okay?”

She nodded again.

He let out a sigh. “Big, tough businesswoman letting me hold her in my arms. Heaven.”

“Stop teasing me,” she said.

He let out a long breath of frustration. “You keep saying you aren’t my woman. That it’s not real. What if I told you I wanted it to be?”

She tried to push away. “Oh, come on. You expect me to believe—”