Chapter 4
CHRISTIAN
Guarding a Dante is an honor. Guarding Valentina Dante?
Pure torture.
I stand near the door of the cafe, watching her chat with her friend who's asking all about the wedding plans.
My job is simple.
Observe, protect, remain invisible until needed.
I've done this for over a decade. It should be routine.
It's not.
"Cristian, you look parched." Valentina's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Join us?"
"No, thank you, Miss Dante." My voice remains neutral despite the knowing smile playing at her lips.
I’m working fucking hard to hide her effect on me, but damn if she doesn’t know.
Two weeks since Luca's wedding, and Valentina has made it her mission to break my composure.
The dance was just the beginning of this maddening game she's determined to play.
She and her friend finish their coffee, and I escort her to the car.
I open the vehicle’s door, and when I turn back, Valentina stands closer than necessary, her scent flooding my senses.
"You never relax, do you?" She reaches up, straightening my tie in a gesture so intimate I have to force myself not to step back. Her fingers linger at my collar. "Always so… rigid."
My dick takes notice of the word rigid, twitching in my slacks.
I capture her wrist gently, removing her hand. "It's my job to stay alert, not relaxed."
She doesn't pull away. "And if I ordered you to relax? I outrank you."
"Your brother outranks you. And his orders are clear."
The light in her eyes dims a little bit, and I fucking hate that I’m at fault, but what choice do I have?
Yesterday, she "accidentally" brushed against me while reaching for a book.
The day before, she asked me to zip her dress, her bare skin inches from my fingers.
Last week, she challenged me to teach her self-defense, knowing full well it would require physical contact I've been desperately avoiding.
Each time, I maintain my distance.
Each time, it gets harder.
"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" she asks.
"I'll be stationed at the door, as usual."
"Pity." She steps closer, and I start mentally reciting baseball stats to distract my dick. "I was hoping you'd sit beside me."
"Your fiancé wouldn't approve," I remind her, and this time, I see pain and fear in her gray eyes.
"My fiancé isn't here. You are."
Thankfully, she gets into the car.
I exhale slowly, trying to regain control.
Alessandro didn't warn me about this when he gave me this assignment.
He didn't mention I'd be fighting a war on two fronts, protecting Valentina from external threats while simultaneously protecting her from me.
And I'm losing.
God help me, I'm losing.
More than once, I’ve woken up in the middle of the night with my dick tenting the sheets.
The dream clings to me as vivid in memory of it as when I conjured it in my sleep.
Valentina beneath me, her raven hair spread across white sheets.
Those gray Dante eyes locked on mine as I move inside her, her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper.
Her voice, usually so commanding, breaking on my name as pleasure overcomes her.
Each time the dream comes, I bolt awake, my body throbbing with need, hard and aching.
I close my eyes, knowing I should banish these thoughts, but instead, I give in.
My hand slides beneath the covers, gripping myself, imagining it's her soft fingers wrapped around me.
In my mind, she's straddling me, head thrown back as she takes what she wants.
My Valentina isn't shy.
She rides me with the same determination she shows in everything else, her perfect tits bouncing with each movement, her lips parted on silent moans, her pussy pulsing around my cock.
I stroke faster, picturing how her skin would flush pink, how she'd tighten around me when she comes.
My breath hitches as I imagine capturing one perfect nipple between my lips, feeling her shudder against me.
Release hits me hard and fast, cum coating my chest.
And then reality crashes back.
I stare at the ceiling, disgust replacing desire.
What kind of loyal soldier fantasizes about his Don's sister?
What kind of protector lusts after the woman he's meant to keep safe?
I've spent my life in service to the Dante family, as did my father.
Before Alessandro, it was Don Lorenzo.
I've killed for them, bled for them, would die for them without hesitation.
Now I'm betraying that trust every time I look at Valentina with hunger instead of professional detachment.
When we arrive home from her outing, she tosses her purse on a hall table and makes her way through the house, out onto the terrace and into the garden.
Like the good dog I am, I follow her.
She should be safe at home, but the Bratva have infiltrated the Dante estate before, shooting up Katerina’s cottage and nearly killing her, Luca, and their son, Enzo, in the process.
So I’m not going to take any chances.
She glides through the flower beds, and I sense annoyance from her.
Is it sexual frustration?
Or simply irritation that she’s not pushing my buttons?
“You don’t need to follow me to the rose bushes, Bonetti. I doubt there’s a Russian assassin hiding among the thorns,” she quips.
I remain stern. “Your brother's orders were clear.”
“God forbid anyone disobey Alessandro.” She snaps off a bloom, wincing as thorns catch her finger, the sight causing a flash of anger to rise within me.
"You're bleeding." I want to step in, stop her from being so reckless, but she’s stubborn as hell.
And I know why. Since this stupid marriage to Maksim was arranged, I’ve watched Valentina’s vibrant spirit slowly dim.
I’d seen how she watched Luca and Katerina at their wedding with envy.
If I could stop this wedding I would, but I’d have to kill her family and the Bratva and I know that I wouldn’t succeed.
I’d be dead, and she’d have no one to protect her from Maksim.
She glances at me, her blood pooling on her delicate finger. “It’s nothing.” She wipes the blood on her dress, a small act of defiance.
“You should be more careful.” I finally meet her gaze, and this time, the intensity in her eyes locks onto mine.
There’s something unspoken simmering in the air, an electric current I can’t ignore, and it makes my breath hitch.
“What would be the point?” she retorts bitterly. “I’m already being sacrificed.”
My heart clenches. I hate that she feels trapped like this.
That she believes she’ll never know the joy of love.
I want to tell her that she is worth so much more than this arrangement with Maksim.
The loyalty I owe Alessandro keeps me silent.
Because I’m ashamed that I can’t burn the world down for her, I begin scanning the perimeter for hints of danger.
I don’t look at her again until she makes a beeline to the pool.
“Don’t mind me,” she calls out. “Just taking a swim.”
She peels away her sundress, leaving her in nothing but lace panties.
My brain seizes.
My lungs stall.
My dreams of her body came nowhere near the truth.
She’s fucking stunning.
Perfect round tits, nipples hardening from the exposure to the air.
Soft curves.
Round ass.
I do my best to stifle my reaction, but inside, a storm rages.
I know I should look away, but I can’t help myself. My body betrays me, dick rocketing to full staff.
“It’s so hot today.” She stretches, arching her back, and I’m about to fucking loose it.
Then she kicks off her panties, and temptation hangs like a noose around my neck.
Her pussy is groomed, with a nest of dark curls I want to bury my face in.
“Miss Dante—” I manage to choke out, but she interrupts me with a laugh and dives into the pool.
“Valentina!” I hiss as I realize that I’m not the only one who can see her. Any of the Dante soldiers making their rounds could come upon her, and I’d have to kill them. “Anyone could see you.”
“Let them look,” she says, floating on her back, tits exposed over the water’s surface. “I don’t really belong to myself, anyway.”
My jaw tightens. “You need to get out. Now.” I stride toward her, not sure if I’m going to throttle her or fuck her.
“Make me.”
I approach the edge of the pool, extending my hand and hoping to hell that I can haul her out and get her covered before I do something that will end with me getting a bullet between the eyes. “This isn’t a game.”
“I’m having fun.” She swims toward me slowly, her eyes fixed on me.
It makes me think of a shark about to take a bite from its prey.
She takes my hand, smiling sweetly.
The next minute, she yanks and I topple forward, crashing into the water fully clothed.
I submerge and come up to the surface sputtering, my hair plastered to my forehead, my white shirt plastered against my skin.
Her eyes widen and she licks her lips as she takes me in.
“You’ve lost your mind,” I growl.
“Maybe.” She swims closer. “Or maybe I’ve finally found it.”
Her body gravitates toward me like a magnet, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to repel her.
“You shouldn’t provoke me,” I warn, my voice rough with restraint I’m worried is about to break.
“Why not? Afraid you might enjoy it?” Her words are sweet poison, making me lose focus.
In an instant, my instincts kick in.
I close the space between us, pulling her against my chest.
She loops her arms around my neck, her tits pressing against my chest.
The heat radiating off her skin sends my mind spiraling.
“Kiss me,” she dares. “You know you want to.”
I fight against the primal urge to taste her. “This isn't what you truly want.”
I should push her away, but I don’t.
The moment stretches and stretches.
I see the yearning in her eyes, the same desire burning in my veins.
“Don't tell me what I want.” She grips my hair, and the sensation sends a shudder through me. “I'm tired of men deciding that for me.”
Her words are clear.
She’s made a decision and it’s to have me.
I should be honored, and in a way, I am.
And she deserves to have some agency in her life.
My grip on her tightens.
My gaze drops to her lips.
Just one kiss…
No! This can’t happen.
In one fluid motion, I shift my grip, tossing her over my shoulder.
I’m frustrated, angry.
Not as much at her as the world we live in that says she can’t have what she wants.
That I can’t give it to her.
“I won’t be another man who takes your choices away,” I state firmly, carrying her out of the pool while she squirms against me.
When I set her down, I can’t shake the feeling of loss that clings to me.
She radiates a spirit that I want to bask in.
She glares at me defiantly, standing naked, and I can’t help but look and she knows it.
I grab a towel and drape it around her shoulders, my hands brushing down over her tits, lingering even as my brain screams touching her will sign my death warrant.
I step back, needing distance. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but this isn’t who you are.”
“You have no idea who I am.” The defiance stays in her eyes, but it’s mixed with pain.
“I’ve known you for a long time. I know exactly who you are.”
“Then you know I take what I want.”
God, this woman will be the death of me. “What you need is to get dressed.” I turn away, wringing water from my shirt. How the fuck am I going to explain this? “I’ll give you privacy.”
“Such a gentleman,” she sneers as I walk away. “Tell me, Cristian, will Maksim be as considerate when he takes what he wants?”
I tense, fists balling at the idea of Maksim touching her. Of his rough hands marking her. “I’ll wait inside,” I say, refusing to engage, knowing I’m teetering on losing control.
I enter the house and head to the wing reserved for those who work for the Dante family.
I don’t live here normally, but I do have a change of clothes, usually for when my suit is bloodied, not wet.
I take a moment to catch my breath, reminding myself why I’m here.
She’s my responsibility.
That’s it. No more, no less.
I head to the common area for us, pouring myself two fingers of whiskey from the bar and downing it in one swallow.
Today, she pushed harder, and I realize that each day I’m protecting her, the line between duty and desire grows thinner.
I was chosen for this assignment because Alessandro trusts me to protect his sister with my life.
Not seduce her.
Not want her.
Not imagine how her skin would taste under my tongue.
I pour another drink, staring at the amber liquid as if it holds answers.
I've spent my life in service, finding purpose in fulfilling my role in the Dante family, but this is different.
This is a need that claws at my insides, demanding satisfaction.
No woman has affected me like this before.
For a moment, I consider leaving her with her brother for a few hours and finding a willing and able woman to fuck this frustration away.
But who am I kidding?
This isn’t just about fucking.
This is about Valentina and what she does to me.
I down the second drink as a feeling of doom settles over me.
There will be no quenching this thirst except by giving in.
If I break… when I break, there will be consequences neither of us can escape.
And still, knowing all this, I can't stop wanting her.