39. Kingsley
39
KINGSLEY
I am trying my hardest to stay out of Dante’s way. I know that in the time since he was shot, he’s missed out on a lot of his work and has to catch up. I also know that facing him after that kiss we shared yesterday will take some effort. I don’t know how I feel about the kiss. It had been totally unexpected, yet not unwelcome. It is strange to feel that the man who has imprisoned me now has an effect on me. I also wonder if the interaction for him had come from a need to feel connected to something after what he had been through. Almost dying can do that to a person. Perhaps he was feeling especially vulnerable after almost tasting death, and in a moment of weakness, I was the only woman available to make him feel alive once again. I am paralyzed with fear that that’s what he is feeling. The matter of our shared kiss has taken up a considerable amount of my time yesterday and this morning, and it refuses to take a back row seat as the day wears on.
As is his habit, Dante’s shadow eclipses the sun and throws darkness over me as I sit outside reading a book. I look up, surprised to see him outside, my breath catching as I notice the darkness in his eyes. Fire emanates from him as he continues to stare down at me, his gaze so focused I am finding it hard to breathe.
Dante on a normal day is mesmerizing. When he wears all black, perfectly tailored pants and shirt that show off tanned sexy arms, he is breathtaking. A handsome man who makes my heart stutter and my soul tremble with desire.
“You didn’t come when I sent for you,” he says, looking for an explanation. Yes, he’d sent for me earlier, and I’d told a stern faced Helga to let him know I’d be up shortly. Then I’d promptly discarded the thought of seeing him and continued reading my book. He doesn’t need to know that I am still on the same page I’d been on two hours ago, unable to move past the same sentence that I keep reading over and over again.
“You need to rest.”
The way his shimmering whisky eyes pierce into me tells me he doesn’t for one minute believe that’s why I have stayed away. He sits down on the edge of the sun lounge beside mine and pulls my lounge closer to him until his knees are almost touching me. I feel naked and exposed, vulnerable even, in my position laying down. I rise, throwing my legs over the side of the lounge, until we sit face to face, my gaze matching his.
“I know what I want, Kingsley.”
His voice is like rich, decadent chocolate soothing my soul. The way he says my name raises goosebumps along my skin. I struggle to breathe through the damage he is inflicting upon my heart. It is so obvious Dante is aware of the effect he is having on me, because he leans forward until his lips graze my ear, his breath skating against my skin. I hold my breath as I wait for him to continue.
“You can try all you want to ignore and deny what’s happening between us here.” He throws his hand back and forth in the space between us. “But I guarantee you, there’s nowhere for you to run and hide where I won’t find you.”
I try for a response, but my voice catches in my throat. What do I say to that? Dante has already made up his mind, and there is no changing it. One way or another, he is coming for me, and he is determined to make me his, regardless of what I want.
* * *
“Tomas Wojcak – does the name mean anything to you?”
I look at Dante then take a moment to think before I shake my head. I haven’t heard the name before.
“I need to ask you something, and I want you to be totally honest with me.”
“I’ve always been honest with you.”
“You passed yourself off as a boy. In a disguise. I wouldn’t exactly call that honest.”
I purse my lips, looking at him with flat eyes. “You know why I had to do that.”
“I know. Tell me why the Savages were after you that night at the club?”
I rise abruptly, my defenses on high alert. We’ve been through this before, but he either doesn’t believe me or thinks there’s more to the story.
“I already told you, Dante. I had never seen them before that night.”
“So who would possibly put a two million dollar bounty on your head? Who wants you dead, Kingsley?”
“ I. Don’t. Know .”
The thought that someone wants me dead forces a hot rod of fear to circuit through my bloodstream. I’ve never even been in the States long enough for someone to develop a fixation on me, let alone a murderous one.
“Think, Kingsley. Who have you pissed off? This is important.”
Dante is starting to get agitated, like he needs answers and he needs them now. Little does he know, I’d like some myself. Especially when it’s my life on the line here. I’d like to help him, but damned if I know who’s got a contract on my head. How would I know something like that?
“You think I like walking around knowing there’s a bullet out there somewhere with my name on it?” I ask him.
“You need to…”
“Dante.”
Marco comes into view, an unforgiving look on his face as he addresses Dante. He looks from his friend to me, and I know whatever he is going to say is going to change the direction of this conversation. I can also see that Marco probably heard the tail end of the conversation and isn’t too happy about what his ears picked up on. He leans into Dante, whispering in his ear, while Dante stands unmoving, his eyes cemented on mine. He has a way of looking through me, piercing my soul.
When Marco finishes, he turns with his friend to face me, giving me a tight smile before he leaves Dante and me standing alone.
“We’ve found the men who attacked us,” Dante informs me, in one of his rare sharing moods.
“And?”
“I have to go.”
I pull at his sleeve as he turns to walk away. Dante stops walking but doesn’t turn to face me, his head lowered as he waits for me to speak.
“Let me go with you.”
“Absolutely not,” he says, whirling around so quickly, he almost knocks me over.
“You haven’t even healed properly,” I remind him.
“Have you thought of your three questions?” he asks me, his question so out of the blue, it takes me a moment to understand that he is referring to his promise to answer three questions honestly and without a trade. He offered me that almost two weeks ago, before he was shot, and I had all but forgotten about our deal. It seemed that he hadn’t.
“Now’s not the time for that,” I tell him.
“It is. Because I have every intention of coming back to you and finishing what we started.”