Chapter 17
DANTE
Frankie’s eyes are glassy with shock, her lips pressed into a tight line as she slumps against the wall.
I still can’t believe that asshole laid his hands on her, and right in my own fucking home.
“You don’t belong to him,” I tell her.
Approaching slowly, I reach out and cup the side of her face, moving my thumb over her soft skin. I want nothing more than to gather her up in my arms and comfort her, but I’m afraid to. Seeing Correa overpower her like that…it puts some of my past actions in a whole new light.
We had discussed it once, sort of, but seeing the fear that Correa put into her eyes makes me feel sick. Frankie won’t even look at me. Her eyes are on the floor, her body trembling, as if she’s still caught between fight and flight.
“What he did…when he touched you like that…” I trail off, shaking my head. “Have I done that? I just…did I ever make you—”
She finally looks up at me. “I always wanted you, Dante. Every single time.”
With a rush of relief, I give in to my caveman impulses and pull her into my arms. She belongs to me, not that asshole, regardless of what any marriage certificate says.
I inhale her scent, gently stroke her hair.
I’ve spent all this time trying to get her out of my head, trying to pretend I didn’t want her, shoving back my feelings, acting like I have the same heart of stone my father did.
But the truth is, I’ve missed her more than I could ever put into words.
I’m done fighting it.
Her body is tense in my arms but she slowly relaxes by degrees. The hard rise and fall of her chest eventually slows, and then she’s melting against me, her cheek pressed into my chest. Her hands gripping the lapels of my jacket.
I pull back to tip her chin up and press my lips softly to hers. Just for a moment, just long enough to reassure her, with zero aggression in case she doesn’t want this. In fact, I’m almost expecting her to push me away.
Instead, her arms wrap around me as she sinks into the kiss, opening her mouth wider, stroking my tongue hungrily with hers.
Now that I’ve had a hit, I can’t stop tasting her, drinking her in.
My tongue runs along hers, hot and heavy, my body pressing her against the wall.
Until suddenly her hands move to my chest, cutting through the cloud of lust as she pushes me away.
I back up with a pant. The pain in her eyes brings back some of my uneasiness.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not that. I just…I can’t do this, Dante. I can’t hop in and out of your bed, not when I know I’m not the only one there. I know you’re with Jessica. And fuck if my self-esteem isn’t a complete joke at this point, but—”
“I’m not with Jessica,” I blurt. “I brought her back because…”
Because I’d wanted to make Frankie jealous. But now I can see how petty, how beneath me a move like that had been. How goddamned manipulative it was.
“…because?” Frankie prods.
“Because I needed help,” I finish. “You made so many changes—good changes—that I got overwhelmed. I’ve never really been the hands-on type with our employees the way you are, and as for managing inventory…I basically see it as a hassle and a chore.”
I’m a little surprised to realize that I’m telling the truth.
Looking into her eyes, I lay it all out. “I need you to come back to the winery. I need you in every aspect of my life.” I reach out for her once more, and she steps into my embrace. Nothing has ever felt more right. “Please, Frankie.”
Oh God, I’m really begging her.
“Please what?” she asks, still questioning it. And how could she not, after how I’ve treated her?
“Please…” I take a deep breath, my heart and mind at war, my sky-high, ironclad defensive walls battling the exact emotions I’ve spent my whole life working to hide, to bury, to deny. “Please let me love you,” I finally say, my arms wrapped tight around her. “I love you.”
Frankie puts a hand on my cheek, gazing up at me. Silently, she pulls out of my arms, and for just a moment I feel my world tilt sideways. She’s going to walk away, once and for all.
But then she takes my hand and leads me from the room, down the hall, to the staircase.
Up the stairs, and into my bedroom. The second the door closes behind us, I swing her into my arms, melting at the sensation of her warm hand looping around the back of my neck.
I can barely believe this is happening as I carry her across the room and set her gently on my bed.
“Tell me you want this,” I say, searching her eyes.
Solemnly, she says, “I want this. I want you.”
I kiss her as slowly as I can while stripping off her jacket and working at the front of her blouse, undoing one tiny button at a time. I don’t think I’ve ever taken the time to properly unwrap her before. Maybe I could get used to this kind of anticipation.
The zipper on her skirt comes down, the fabric easing over her thighs.
My lips cruise her neck, her chest, her cleavage as I tug the blouse over her head, my nails skimming along her ribs when I reach behind her to unfasten her bra and slide it down her arms. I can’t stop kissing her, touching her, my lips and fingers seemingly registering her for the first time all over again.
She threads her fingers into my hair as we kiss. I see soft acceptance and heady eagerness in her eyes when I briefly pull away to undress. I had thought that angry, fiery Frankie was the best version of sex—but this completely willing, completely open Frankie is another level.
She holds her arms out to me as I settle between her open thighs and kiss the warm spot between her full, magnificent breasts. Then I take my time to lap and tug at her swollen nipples while cradling her breasts in my palms. The taste of her, sweet in my mouth, is like nothing else on earth.
“Dante.” My name drips from her mouth as she opens her legs and tips her hips, welcoming me.
I want to sink into her, but I’m not ready yet.
Kissing my way down her body, I explore between her legs with my fingers.
Parting her, tracing her delicate lips, making her gasp and squirm with need.
I lower my mouth to taste her, my tongue skimming every seductive rise.
Her breasts rise so perfectly as she arches her back while I lick her clit.
She tugs at me, moaning my name, urging me to move up and over her body. Then her hands wrap around my ass and she pulls me close, guiding me into her.
I sink right in, my cock as straight and true as an arrow finding its target, a groan escaping my lips as I drown in the sensation.
She’s so wet, so fucking hot, and the way she’s digging her nails into my skin I can tell she wants me deep inside her, every last inch of me.
Holy. Shit. I thrust carefully, afraid the potent pleasure is going to push me over the edge right away.
Her hips meet my every thrust, her soft, wet heat stroking me so good I feel like I’m losing my mind.
“Yes,” I breathe, gliding in and out, long and slow and so agonizingly gentle. “Yes, fuck, Frankie, yes.”
“You feel so good to me,” she pants.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her.
She slides her hands around to my hips, skimming them up my chest, around the back of my neck. She’s breathing even harder now, despite my slow pace—or maybe because of it.
“Dante,” she whispers. “Look at me.”
I obey, my eyes meeting hers, and immediately I feel her core start to clench around my cock, the orgasm taking hold of her. I can tell she’s coming hard, blinking rapidly as tears fill her eyes, her mouth falling open as she gasps for air. But she doesn’t look away from me.
“I love you,” she tells me breathlessly.
I feel a warmth, a connection wash over me. Something I’ve never had before. This is what it’s supposed to be like. This is how love is supposed to be.
And suddenly I’m coming with her, spilling into her helplessly as I whisper my love right back.
We’re coming together now, oh God, oh fucking God, yes, and with every thrust it’s like I’m pouring my entire soul into her for safekeeping.
My body is shuddering. I’ve never come so hard in my fucking life.
I hold her close in the comedown, rolling onto my back and pulling her on top of me, still needing to be skin to skin without crushing her delicate body. I can feel her heart beating against mine as we ride out the last lingering aftershocks.
Closing my eyes, I softly kiss the top of her head and settle in, my whole body relaxed.
The rise and fall of her breathing evens out, growing slower and steadier, and within a few minutes it’s obvious that she’s fallen asleep.
I lightly run my fingers up and down her back, relishing the feel of her skin.
It’s funny to think about it, but I’d only been vaguely aware of the existence of the Abbott sisters before my marriage to Frankie was contracted.
Everyone in wine country is somewhat familiar with other people in the industry, of course, the large wineries especially. But beyond that mild, passing familiarity with her, all I’d really known about Francesca Abbott was that her father had been deeply in debt to mine.
The realization hits me that I still know very little about the woman sleeping in my arms. I did have Armani run a background check on her, but I stopped short of getting a full dossier worked up.
Normally, my brother does what I like to call “opposition research,” so I know exactly what I’m up against. But Frankie isn’t some opponent to be conquered. I see that now.
I guess my father taught me and my brothers to see anybody without the Bellanti name as a potential enemy. But ever since my father’s death, it’s become even more important to me to be less like my father—and it’s time to stop letting his cynical view of the world shape mine.
My father’s way of living got him murdered, after all. And I don’t want that.
Though I’d be more than happy to stay in bed for the rest of the day, I know Frankie and I both have responsibilities to get back to, so I gently kiss her awake. She looks at me through sleepy eyes and flashes me a lazy smile.
“Let’s go away for a little while. Just the weekend, just you and me.”
“Are you kidding? Dante Bellanti wants to take a vacation?” she asks, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I don’t believe it.”
“You still have clothes here—you can pack a bag and we could leave here in an hour.”
“I can’t.” She sits up and shakes her head, smiling. “I mean, I’d love to, but I drove here in Charlie’s car, and I still have to take Livvie back to Nob Hill after she gets out of school.”
“Fine with me,” I say. “We can fly out of SFO. Just go to ticketing at the airport and buy a trip to anywhere we want.”
She just laughs good-naturedly and slides off the bed, looking around on the floor for her clothes. As she starts to get dressed, I have to fight the flicker of panic going through me.
“Please…” That word is so unfamiliar on my tongue. And yet I can’t seem to quit saying it today.
She pulls her shirt over her head and her skirt over her hips. Buttoning the blouse, she turns to look at me. “I’m going to pick up Livvie in a bit. Then I’m going to take her home to Nob Hill.”
“Frankie—”
“And then I’m going to meet you at the St. Regis, and we’re going to spend the night making up for lost time. In their most luxurious suite. And yes, they have room service.”
I lay there and watch her finish getting dressed because honestly, I can’t bring myself to move. She’s mesmerizing me. Her words make me feel warm, excited, and anxious to be with her again. She pulls me in for a kiss before she leaves my room.
“See you soon,” she says.
The door shuts behind her and I realize that I’m actually smiling for the first time in far too long.
I’m really, truly smiling.