Stepping into the Shadows
Evelyn
Iwoke up as the door opened. It was dark; the only light came from a crescent moon that shone in through a slatted window. For a panicked moment, I didn’t know where I was. Nothing looked familiar.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I recognized the interior of the cabin and the whole sordid mess came crashing back to me. I almost cringed at the force of it.
Dante walked over and switched on the lamp. “Why are you still up?”
Actually, I’d fallen asleep on the couch.
The bedroom had seemed oddly cold and lonely, and the cabin too empty without him in it.
The guards were still outside, patrolling the place.
I’d seen them through the windows while I’d been reading.
These were new guys, and I didn’t recognize them.
More military contacts of Dante’s, I guessed.
I knew they were keeping me here, but they were also guarding me. It was a seriously messed-up situation I’d gotten myself into, and I had no idea how on earth I was going to get out of it.
If I was going to get out of it.
I was surprised I’d slept at all, given the worst-case scenarios that had been flying through my head ever since Dante had left.
“What time is it?” I asked groggily.
“Late.”
I noticed he was armed. There was a firearm stuck down the front of his jeans. That was new. He saw me looking at it.
“Not doing a lot of good in the glove compartment,” he muttered.
He seemed different somehow. Rattled, if that was even possible for a man like Dante. His hair was mussed, like he’d dragged his hand through it too many times, and he had purple shadows beneath his eyes. Those broad shoulders were tense, and I could see the veins corded in his neck.
“What happened?” I got slowly to my feet.
“Nothing.” He didn’t meet my gaze.
I stared at him. He was lying to me, I could tell. It was written all over his handsome face.
“Dante, what happened? Where did you go tonight?”
He sighed and glanced at the window. I could tell by his restless eyes that he was on edge. On the lookout for something.
“Are we in danger?” I asked, following his line of sight.
He flinched.
I was right. I grabbed his arm to get his attention. His head swung back to me.
“Dante. Talk to me. If this concerns me, I have a right to know.”
He stared down at my hand on his arm as if surprised I’d dared touch him, but he didn’t shrug it off. I let go, but only because I wanted an answer.
“I went to my mother’s place in Manhattan. We had a meeting.” I heard the weariness in his voice.
“You drove all the way to New York?”
He gave a stiff nod. “Looks like we’ve been compromised. They might know I’ve got you.”
I shook my head, my sleepy brain struggling to keep up. “Who? Who might know? The Colombians?”
He nodded. “Alberto was found dead earlier today.”
I gasped. “Oh my God.” I covered my mouth with my hand. For a moment, I couldn’t speak. A long beat passed as all sorts of frightening murder scenes played through my head.
When I’d finally processed what he’d said, I whispered, “How?”
“He was shot. That’s all we know. My brother’s looking into it.”
“Nico?”
“No, my older brother. Marco.” I noticed his forehead crease slightly as he said the name.
“But why… why would anyone kill Alberto?” I asked. “Other than your family, of course.”
He scowled at me. “We didn’t do this. It was a professional job. Likely a hitman from the cartel. Alberto obviously gave them the shipping info.”
I massaged my forehead. “Alberto was working for a Colombian cartel?”
“Or they bribed him. Either way, he knew too much and had to go. Like you.”
I went still.
He was still scowling, but I could feel the tension radiating off him.
“Like me?” I whispered, connecting the dots. “You think Alberto told them where I lived?”
“Alberto gave me your name,” he said grimly. “Plus, he was tortured. There’s only one reason to torture someone, and that’s to get something out of them. I think that something was you.”
I stumbled backward until the backs of my legs hit the couch. Then I collapsed as my knees gave way. I stared up at him, horrified.
“Then… they know I’m here?”
“Not here. But they know you’re under the protection of the Marcelli family now. That means shit is about to get serious.”
As if it wasn’t before.
“What if they find out where I am?” I whispered.
He gave a nod as if to say he’d expected that. “This cabin is secure. There isn’t a record of it anywhere.”
I gulped over a lump in my throat. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. This is the safest place for you right now. Try to stay calm.”
Except he looked anything but calm. Every ripped muscle in his gorgeous body was strained and his jaw popped with tension.
“How can you know that?”
“Nico is monitoring the approach road,” he said. “There’s a camera on the freeway, before the turnoff to the cabin. If he sees trouble, he’ll let me know.”
I heaved a quiet sigh of relief. That was something, at least.
“I’ve briefed my men outside. They know to look out for anything suspicious.”
I had to admit, it did sound like he’d taken care of everything. Although I didn’t want to wait around for a cartel hit squad to find out where I was and come after me.
“Get some sleep, Ophelia,” Dante said quietly. “You look tired.”
Not as tired as he did. Weariness was etched into the fine lines on his face, the deep groove in his forehead, and the shadows underneath his eyes.
“If I’m safe here, why did you come back?” I asked, still watching him. “Why didn’t you just stay in the city tonight?”
He didn’t reply.
“Dante,” I murmured, getting back up. “Why did you come back?”
He could have just ordered one of the guards to move me tomorrow. He didn’t need to drive hours in the middle of the night to come back here.
His gaze met mine then, and something inside me tightened. That kiss had gotten to him too.
“Was it because of me?” I whispered.
One part of me needed to know, but the other, more sensible side was screaming at me to shut the hell up. Not to push him. Did I really want to know the answer?
Dante Marcelli lived in the shadows. He was a dangerous, violent man, and I knew I should leave well alone. But I was in this now, and God help me, I wanted to follow him into those shadows.
Finally, he growled. “I came back… because the thought of them touching you makes me homicidal.”
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. The room seemed to tilt and I had to take a deep breath to regain my equilibrium.
He’d driven back through the middle of the night just to be here.
For me.
“No one’s ever come back for me before,” I whispered, gazing up at him.
I saw his jaw flex, like he was trying to hold onto the last shred of restraint he had left.
“Jesus, Ophelia. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
I blinked back tears.
“And don’t you fucking cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
“Fuck,” he growled, pulling me in, crushing my body against his until I felt every inch of his hard, taut chest. I was still reeling when his lips came down on mine.
Nothing could have prepared me for the way Dante was kissing me now. The first time had been a scathing show of dominance, a punishment. He’d wanted to make me beg. The second, when he’d crouched in front of my chair… I wasn’t sure what that had been.
But neither came close to this.
His mouth was hot and hungry, and I opened to him instantly. I felt rather than heard the growl in his throat his tongue claimed mine.
There was nothing gentle about this kiss either. It was desperate and feverish, and I loved every second of it.
I breathed him in as his hand snuck up my back and into my hair. He cupped my head and held me firm, so he could delve in again and again until I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t think at all.
All I could do was feel.
He held me close, his other hand pressing into the small of my back, so my stomach was flush against his. I felt the hard abs underneath his shirt moving as he pressed me to him.
My breasts were pinned against his chest, aching under my top. I was on fire. Heat flowed from his mouth, through my body, coiling into a tight knot down below. I was so wet for him.
God, I wanted him.
I kissed him back with everything I had. Matching his tongue thrust for thrust, drinking him in as thirstily as he consumed me. It spurred us both on.
His right hand fisted in my hair while his left trailed over my sweatshirt, pausing at my aching breast. I trembled as he cupped it over the fabric and squeezed. Hard.
Heat unfurled low in my belly, and my knees threatened to buckle. But I wanted more. Needed to feel his hands on my bare skin.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, allowing my sweatshirt to rise up and give him access. His hand slipped underneath, just like I’d hoped. Without asking permission, he pushed up my bra. I sucked in a breath as his touch found my bare breast.
“Jesus, Ophelia. You’re killing me,” he groaned against my mouth, as he caressed my bullet-hard nipple.
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I could feel his substantial erection digging into my lower belly, even under his jeans. He was rock hard, and judging by the sizable bulge, very well endowed. It turned me on even more knowing that was for me.
I didn’t care that he was a criminal, or that he’d used my gallery, or even that he’d once planned to kill me. The only thing that mattered was that he’d come back for me. That he was protecting me. That he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I knew we shouldn’t. That this was a bad decision. But right now, I didn’t seem to care. The truth was, neither of us could stop it, even if we’d wanted to.
I was hopelessly aroused, and when he played with my nipple, I couldn’t help the deep, throaty moan that escaped me. He swallowed the sound, squeezing harder, fisting my hair tighter, and abusing my mouth with his own.
There was a messy, desperate edge to it, which surprised me. He was usually so controlled. I, however, had lost any semblance a long time ago. I reached between us and cupped his cock, relishing the groan he emitted.
“Fuck.”
I rubbed along the length of his shaft over his jeans, until the groan turned to a growl and his body tensed.
He broke away, breathing hard. His eyes glowed with that silver intensity that left me spellbound, and I could tell he was fighting hard to keep his emotions in check. Trying to regain some small fragment of control.
But I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to lose it. I wanted to push him over the edge so he would fall into the abyss with me.