Gold(30)

“You want me to tell him what a slut you are?” he hissed viciously. “Tell him how you spread your legs for me?”

She’d been stupid back when she was flattered by attention from the football team captain, even if it was in secret. No one had ever paid attention to her. So yes, she’d been stupid about trusting him. Allowing him to do things that no one else had ever done. But she had never spread her legs for him.

Never.

She knew that for sure.

But what would Dante think of her? Part of her knew it wouldn’t matter, but the other part, the hurt teenager inside her, didn’t want to be seen differently. She didn’t want the deep shame inside her to be reflected in his eyes.

“Stop it,” she said. “Just leave me alone.”

He was standing tall now, looking more and more confident as he made her feel more and more ashamed.

Remember, she told herself. You’re Ella Stanton. Top business consultant, currently dating a hot guy who seems crazy about you, even if he is hired.

That’s right. What was this between her and Dante?

“Ella,” a voice called from the top of the stairs. She stepped back from Cliff, sure the shame was still evident in her eyes, and avoided Dante’s gaze as he came down the stairs.

Dante jogged forward, making the floor shake slightly as he reached Cliff and pushed him back with a hand. “Stay away from my woman.”

She put a hand over her face, stifling a grin. Sometimes he sounded like such a caveman. But she couldn’t deny her relief that he was here. “Dante, let him go.”

Dante turned to her, and she could see that despite her grin, his face was dead serious. “You said you would be careful. That you wouldn’t be alone with him.”

She frowned. “You don’t control me, Dante.”

“Can we talk about this upstairs?” he asked, his voice tight.

She sighed and followed him, her heart still hammering from her confrontation with Cliff. When they were inside the room, he sat her on the bed and then paced, glaring, in front of her.

“What were you thinking?” he asked. “That man scares you, and—”

“No, he doesn’t anymore. It’s—”

Dante’s expression darkened, his eyes like molten gold. He folded his hefty arms. “If it isn’t fear, then what is it? You want him? You have history?” He ran both hands through his hair in exasperation. “Perhaps I read this all wrong.”

“For Pete’s sake, no,” she said, standing and pulling his hands down, making him face her. “But we have to talk about the fact that you don’t own me just because we got physical last night.”

He raised a dark-gold eyebrow. “That’s all last night was to you? Physical?”

She nodded. “For now, that’s all I have to offer.”

He huffed. “I didn’t do it right, then.”

“No, you did everything right, but this is fast for me. Let me tell you; that’s more progress than I’ve made in my life. I just gave you my body. But I need more time than that to give you my mind.”

“And your heart?” he asked bluntly, staring at her.

She sighed. “I don’t know, Dante. This is too much for me.”

“But he isn’t?” Dante asked angrily. “You ditch me in the morning, but then I find you hanging with him?”

She realized with a dawning sense of wonder that this gorgeous man was jealous. Over her. “Oh my gosh, you’re jealous.”

He whipped around. “Of course I am. I want you to be mine. I don’t want anyone else to touch you.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I told you I wanted to win you,” he said. “Woo you. Who wins a prize to share it with someone else?”

He had a good point, and as she looked at his big, tensed body, she realized there was a dark side to Dante. Behind the pleasantry, the jokes, the cockiness.

Deep down, he was just as insecure as any other male.

She’d never known men that looked like him could feel that way.

“I get it,” she said. “But I’m sorry. I haven’t agreed to be yours yet. And most people don’t agree to be exclusive when they start dating.”

“Even when they do things sexually?” he asked, looking totally baffled.

“Yes, even then.”

He ruffled his hair again and then sat on the bed next to her, his shoulders slumping.

She wished she could tell him about Cliff. But the trauma, the shame, was too deep still.

So she just placed a hand on Dante’s arm reassuringly. “We still have time, though. For things to progress.”

“Who is that guy to you?” Dante asked. “How can I protect you if I don’t know? How can I know you even want to be protected?”