The Asshole
Dante
Iopened my eyes and stared into hazy emerald-green pools. Evelyn was clutching me, her body still trembling. Her pale skin glistened in the bedside lamp, and I swear I’d never seen anything so goddamn beautiful.
My brain was trying, and failing, to deal with the explosive release I’d just experienced. Endorphins were rushing through me, my heart was pounding like I was about to go into battle, and I felt hyped up and on edge, yet exhausted at the same time.
And deep inside, there was a warmth that I hadn’t felt before.
As we both came down to earth, I found myself staring at her, at a loss for words. Not a problem I was used to. She was still breathing hard, but her gaze held questions. The problem was I didn’t have the answers.
I didn’t know why I wanted her so badly, or why I’d given in to the longing. Again. All I was sure of was that sex with Evelyn just got better and better the more times we did it. It was the complete opposite of what usually happened.
Maybe it was the way she looked at me, like she needed me. Like I was somebody worth having. Fuck.
Slowly, I lifted her off me and set her gently on the couch.
“Dante…” she whispered, but I couldn’t talk to her right now. I needed time to process, whatever the hell this was. I was reeling from the desire, the need, the whiskey, and the goddamn sight of her coming apart on my cock.
“Let’s talk in the morning,” I said, as I stood and pulled up my jeans, my voice way too fucking husky.
She gave a tight nod, and even though I wanted to lean over and plant a kiss on her forehead, I didn’t.
She’d been so fucking beautiful, felt so fucking good wrapped around me, a part of me didn’t want to walk away.
That same stupid part wanted to take her to bed and fall asleep with her curves tucked into my side.
So that when I woke up in the morning, I could do it all over again.
Jesus Christ.
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I’m going to bed.”
And being the asshole I was, I left her there, shivering and naked, staring after me.
The sun was too bright. It shone through the blinds I’d forgotten to close when I’d fallen into bed, hating myself. Now it hit me full in the face, giving me an instant headache.
I deserved it.
Why the fuck couldn’t I keep my hands off the goddamn woman? Which part of “last time” didn’t my stupid neanderthal brain understand?
But then she’d walked barefoot into my living room in that silky chemise, her gorgeous breasts on full display, and my resistance had gone out the window. Fine, the whiskey might have had something to do with it, but I was usually more controlled than that, even when I was drunk.
I’d barely slept a wink, haunted by what had passed between us. It was more than just sex, I knew that now. How much more, I couldn’t tell.
And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out.
I sat up and stared blankly at the oil painting of a small fishing boat tossing on a turbulent sea in front of me. It had been a gift from Leo, before I’d left for my last tour to the Middle East.
I think he’d been trying to tell me I could weather all storms, or maybe he’d predicted the monumental fuck-up that was to follow. Either way, it was a moody, atmospheric piece that always stirred something deep within me. It had never seemed more appropriate.
The brutal truth was there was no place in my life for a woman. Not in my family. I didn’t do divided loyalties, I didn’t want to compromise. I liked living alone.
A woman would disrupt all that.
Hadn’t I already gone back to her apartment to collect her belongings? Put her under my protection? Defended her to my family? Now, she was living in my goddamn home.
And we weren’t even in a relationship.
Problem was I liked seeing her walk around barefoot in that silky excuse for a nightgown.
I liked seeing her copper hair hanging loose, her beautiful face devoid of makeup.
I’d liked being able to pull her onto my lap and feel how wet she was for me, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
I cursed under my breath. I’d always tried to limit my relationships to brief one-nighters so that nobody could see who I really was.
Except Evelyn knew.
She’d seen the monster I could be. I’d interrogated her, for Christ’s sake. I’d held her against her will. I’d threatened her. I’d punished her and made her beg.
Yeah. She knew exactly what I was.
And yet she still wanted me. She still looked at me with awe, like I’d made her feel something nobody else had. She still screamed my name when she came.
I’d never be able to tell her what that did to me. How that made me feel like the king of the fucking universe.
And then after she’d given herself to me, I’d left her alone on the couch, like the bastard I was.
I sighed and got out of bed. I’d be surprised if she wanted anything more to do with me after last night.
Probably a good thing, I thought, as I pulled on some clothes. With sex off the table, we could go back to sticking to our arrangement.
Evelyn would play her part, while my family provided the protection, and together we’d bring the cartel down. She’d get her gallery back, and the Marcellis would help her run it. Our way. I could go back to my life the way it was, before I’d met the flame-haired Ophelia.
Feeling more stable, I opened my bedroom door and headed to the kitchen. To my surprise, I found Evelyn sitting at the dining table, reading something on her phone, a half-finished cup of coffee beside her.
She glanced up as I entered but didn’t say anything. I could tell by her flushed cheeks, hostile expression, and rigid posture that she was still mad at me. Wordlessly, I poured myself a cup of coffee from the readymade pot and sat down opposite her.
She stood up the moment I sat down, her chair scraping on the marble floor.
“Where are you going?” I asked, surprised by her abrupt behavior.
Draining the rest of her coffee, she set the empty cup down on the table and glared at me. “Work. I’m going to work. We have a drug cartel to destroy. Remember?”
As if I could forget.
“Kyle will drive you,” I said.
“I’m perfectly capable—”
“It’s non-negotiable, Evelyn.”
She shut her mouth, then spun around and stormed back to her room.
I clenched my hands into fists as I paced impatiently outside the bedroom door.
“Evelyn, we’re going to be late.”
She’d been holed up in there ever since she’d gotten back from work. It didn’t bother me, but the gala was starting in an hour and I didn’t want to be late.
Normally, I wouldn’t care if I arrived after the gala had started. People tended not to bar me entry anywhere. But in this case, with Malakov’s money man, Mikhail Orlov, in attendance, I wanted to be there for the small talk before the main event. That’s when Evelyn would plant the seed.
I also wanted to walk in with the fiery beauty on my arm and watch the reactions. New York society would be both shocked and intrigued. I’d never appeared in public with anyone other than a family member on my arm before.
Dante Marcelli was known as the black sheep of the family. The youngest son who went away to war and came back scarred and damaged. The ruthless enforcer who nobody crossed. Who could sign your death warrant with a look.
That’s what they said about me behind my back, not that I gave a fuck. But my reputation preceded me, and that would blow back on Evelyn.
People would look at her differently after tonight. They’d wonder what kind of woman could handle a man like me. What kind of woman would want to.
The bedroom door opened and Evelyn stepped out in a deep burgundy dress that clung enticingly to her curves.
The rich color contrasted perfectly with her pale complexion.
A daring neckline revealed ample cleavage, while the fitted bodice tapered at the waist before spilling into soft rippling folds around her legs.
I took one look at her and was instantly hard.
I must have been staring because she hesitated in the doorway. “Do I look okay?”
Was she fucking kidding? She looked amazing. In fact, she looked so damn desirable I wasn’t sure I wanted her going out like that. I fought the very male urge to push her right back into the bedroom and strip that designer creation off her gorgeous body.
I gave a gruff nod and turned away, mostly so she couldn’t see how hard I was.
“You look the part.” The words came out cold. Deliberate. Distance was the only weapon I had left against her. “Let’s go. The driver’s waiting.”
I opened the door and she strode past. She carried a glittering clutch purse in one hand and wore a thin tennis bracelet on the other wrist. Jealously, I wondered who’d given it to her.
We waited on the landing for the elevator.
“You don’t have to be such a dick all the time, you know,” she said in a quiet voice. She faced straight ahead, her elegant neck and shoulders stiff with tension. Tension I’d put there. I wanted to massage it away, but of course, I didn’t.
Instead, I doubled down.
“It’s better we keep our… relationship impersonal from now on.”
She flashed an annoyed glance at me.
“Sex does not equal a relationship. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil to each other. If we’re going to be working together—”
Working together? That was cute. She actually thought she had a say in all this. I resisted the bitter scoff that was on the tip of my lips. The more she got to know my family, and Valentina, the more she’d realize how naive that sounded.
But I let her have it—for now.
“—you could at least make an effort to be nice,” she finished with a toss of her hair. She wore it half up in a diamanté clip, and fiery tendrils skimmed her pearly white shoulders.
I wanted to kiss her there.
“Vincent called me today,” I said, instead.
“Oh?” Her expression hardened.
“He said you hit him through the face.”
Those soft lips pouted. “It was only the once and he deserved it. For what he did to me.”
Fair enough. The man had betrayed her. Sure, it had been for my family, but he’d still gone behind her back. I didn’t voice it, but I was secretly proud of her for that.
Figuring now was as good a time as any, I took a red, narrow box out of my jacket pocket. “I have something I’d like you to wear.”
She turned suspicious eyes on me. “Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”
“I heard.”
She inhaled through her nose and I could tell she was fighting to remain calm. “What’s in the box?”
“A necklace.”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw them light up.
“It’s not what you think,” I said quickly, before she got the wrong idea.
The light faded and I was hit by a pang of regret. I wondered briefly what it would be like to buy her diamonds for real. To see those green eyes dance with joy as I lifted them out of the box. Feel her tremble as I hung them around her neck.
Except that would never be me.
“They’re the family jewels. By wearing them, everybody will know you’re under our protection.”
She gasped as I lifted them off the plush red-velvet lining and unclasped them.
“Turn around.”
She did so, holding up her hair.
As I fastened the clasp, her hand went up to touch them. “How much are they worth?”
“A lot.”
She let out a nervous breath.
“You’ll be fine,” I said, as the elevator arrived and the door pinged open. “I’ll be right beside you.”