by Henry, Jane
He laughed, a deep-barreled laugh that made me shiver for some reason, reminding me that although he was strong and sexy, he was dangerous .
"An interesting sort is a nice way to put it," he said. "I like you, Gabriella. Do you ever have anything bad to say about anyone ?"
I shrugged. "Well," I said as honestly as I could. “I don't like when people are unkind, or greedy, or take advantage of others. But I don't like to think of sad things, so no, I'd prefer even then not to say anything bad about people. I'm just happier that way, I guess ."
"Makes sense," he said. "And I get it. Not the way I do things, but then again, I wouldn't recommend you do anything the way I do it ."
What was wrong with him? What troubled him? He frowned, and snapped open the dessert menu .
"You want some dessert?" he asked, and I nodded eagerly. "You were a good girl, and ate your dinner, and good girls who eat dinner get dessert ."
My belly turned to mush at hearing him call me a good girl .
Oh, God. I was a good girl. So why, then, did I feel a tingling between my thighs, and heat rising in my chest at his words? I decided to change the subject .
"Dante, did you notice that dessert menu easily has three or four dozen different options? We maybe should have noticed that before we ordered our food." I stared at his half-eaten burger. "Maybe next time, we just order dessert and skip the meal altogether ."
His lips twitched and my heart twisted once more. "I think that's a very good idea," he said, but there was sadness in his eyes, and I realized the error of my ways. How foolish I'd been .
How could there possibly be a next time ?
"I'd love a piece of cherry pie. Do they do á la mode? And why do they call it á la mode anyway? Is mode French for ice cream? Why would a language have fancy words like enchantée and patisserie , but then have something like mode for something as delectable as ice cream?" He shook his head .
"You're something else," he said. "But yeah, honey, it means with ice cream. So tell me, do you want it á la mode or not ?"
"Yes, of course. Please," I tacked on, feeling suddenly bashful .
He smiled again. Maybe he wasn’t so scary. "Good girl .”
It took me by surprise, being called a good girl again, but it did wonderful, surprising things to me. I felt shy and happy and admittedly turned on. I wanted to continue to be his good girl… but how? I couldn’t .
I needed to get home. I needed to pretend I'd never met this man before .
I would never forget him, but I needed him to forget me .
Chapter Three
I watched in rapt fascination as she ate her cherry pie. Her green eyes were alight as she talked of so many things—her favorite books and movies, interspersed with sweet little questions trying to get me to uphold my end of the conversation. But I wouldn’t answer her questions, and kept redirecting the conversation back to her. I wanted to know everything about her. What made her happy, or sad, or hopeful? Her hopes, her dreams, and her fears. I wanted it all, every bit of it .
I'd had everything handed to me on a silver platter, since before I could remember. Even now, I had plastic in my wallet that could buy me a house or a yacht or anything else I wanted. My dad was a filthy rich billionaire, and I’d already amassed my own fortune. It had come at a price, though. I’d seen terrible, wicked things in my thirty years. I’d done terrible, wicked things .
Something in me longed for the type of goodness that was born of a pure heart. It was in Gabriella’s eyes, in her speech. She was good, this girl… this beguiling young woman .
"Oh, that was delicious, Dante," she said, wiping her mouth. "It really was. I'm so sorry you didn't like your burger, though. Perhaps the cook was having a bad night or something ."
"Doesn't matter," I said. "I'm glad you liked your meal. Now let's get going ."
Her eyes clouded a bit, and something in me yearned to make her happy again. “Sure,” she said. "Is it time to go back already ?"
Ah. She thought it was time to go home. Sweet girl .
I looked out the window, then, at the dark, ominous clouds that had rolled in while we were eating. “Not so sure about that," I said. The one major downside of riding a motorcycle was the severe lack of protection in case of a storm, and in Vegas flash floods happened on the regular. I kept a leather jacket it my saddlebag that would protect me, but what did Gabriella have? I'd make her wear mine, of course, but it would be so big on her I wasn't sure how much shelter it would offer .
"So how am I going to repay you, Prince Charming? You bought me dinner and rescued me from dead-cell-phone, broken-flip-flop hell. You bought me the most delicious cherry pie and sacrificed your own comfort eating a subpar burger in a diner in the middle of nowhere. So how do I make this up to you?" She smiled up at me, and something in me roared to life, something I hadn't felt in so long, the feeling was completely foreign to me .
Hope .
"You don't need to repay me, babe," I said, waving my hand. "I needed the distraction tonight, to be honest ."
Her little blonde brow furrowed and she pursed her lips. "I must repay you somehow. I can't just be a moocher ."
Ah, so little Gabriella's pride was getting in the way .
"Well, then, give me a kiss," I said, before I could stop the words, before I knew better than to ask for it. I just wanted a chaste kiss. I wouldn't hurt her, or take advantage of her, or use her. Just one little kiss .
"A kiss?" she whispered, her eyes lighting up but looking away just as quickly. "Well, I suppose it's a small price to pay,” she said with a shrug .
And then she stood up on her tiptoes as she faced me, steadying herself by placing her hands on my shoulders for balance, and she placed the sweetest little kiss on my cheek. "There," she said with a giggle. "There's your kiss ."
I wanted to ravish her, to make her mine, take her mouth and give her a kiss she'd never fucking forget .
"You kissed my cheek?" I drawled. "You call that repayment ?"
I was just teasing her. But her eyes widened and she grew quiet, and before I knew what was happening, her head tilted to the side, her lips met mine, and magic happened .
Fucking magic .
At the touch of her lips my cock hardened, my muscles tensed, and I deepened the kiss. Her knees dipped and she moaned a bit, and I lost myself in her. I kissed her as if tonight was our last night, and tomorrow would never come. Like she was my savior. Like this was her first kiss, and I’d make sure she never fucking forgot it. Finally, reluctantly, I pulled away before I did something I regretted, like tear her clothes right off her porcelain skin and fuck her up against the wall .
"Going back might be dangerous now," I mused, as I looked around the little strip mall where we stood. A flash of lightning lit up the sky behind us like an omen, and Gabriella shivered. I stood taller and lifted one of my arms to draw her against me, to protect her, the instinct so strong the move was unconscious, involuntary even .
"I don't know what we should do," Gabriella murmured, tugging on her lower lip with her teeth and lowering her eyes shyly, snuggling closer. "My stepmother won't miss me until the morning, and I don't want to go back, Dante. Not now. And is it even safe to ride with... whatever is coming ?"
As I looked around I noticed the restaurant was closing, the shades drawn and the fluorescent lights that promised "hot pie" and "best fries in town” vanishing as we watched. To the right of the diner was a little convenience store, and to the right of that, a strip of pavement that led to a looming building in the distance. I squinted my eyes and looked. Was it what I thought it was? I tilted my head and read the white script against the green background on the awning .<
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King’s Crown Hotel .
"We could head over there for a bit," I said, pointing to the awning in the distance. “You know, get out of the rain .”
"Well," she said before she blinked, her large green eyes reflecting something more than what they showed just a minute before. Her cheeks flushed. "That was... that was my first kiss, Dante, and I have to say it was a really damn good one. And I don’t think I’m quite myself yet ."
I barked out a laugh. I'd known this girl for less than a day, and she undid me. She beamed up at me .
First kiss? "That was not your first kiss, was it?" she asked innocently .
My laughter died and I shook my head. Jesus .
"No, babe. It wasn't my first kiss." It was a first, though it would be hard to explain what made it so… It was my first taste of innocence. The first time I kissed a girl and cared if she liked it .
"Hey," I said, brushing her hair out of her eyes with the back of my finger. "We’re in for quite a storm ."
"Are we?" she asked, and to my surprise, she tilted her head to the side and sobered. "This night is something different, Dante.” A crash of thunder overhead interrupted her, and it was followed by a flash of lightning that lit up the sky. She shrieked, and I gathered her close .
"I'm afraid," she said, and as I held her against me, the first splatter of a raindrop hit my cheek, cold and wet .
"Afraid of what? Of the storm ?"
Her eyes were closed now, and her face paled as she nodded her head. She looked like she was gonna throw up or something. "I hate thunderstorms," she whispered, right before another slash of lightning came, along with a deafening crash of thunder, and the rain began. She screamed at the flash in the sky, and held onto me with a death-like grip, her fingers grasping my shirt as if to anchor herself to safety. My gut clenched at her whimper. I held her as she rocked a bit, and I knew then that I had to get her to safety, had to get her out of this storm. I knew if the thunder and lightning were this close to one another, we were in the eye of the storm, and it definitely wasn't safe. And the girl was fucking terrified .
Why? What had happened to her to make her scared like this? The brave, happy woman from a few minutes ago had dissolved into a shaking, petrified little girl .
"Come with me," I said, as yet another string of lighting and thunder lit up the sky, the rain coming down in such torrents I had to shout for her to hear me. We were soaked through within seconds as I made my way to the entrance. I tried to pull her along, as she didn't seem capable of walking on her own, and was ready to swing her up in my arms and fucking carry her the rest of the way if I had to. She didn't budge, just wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth as the rain poured down around us .
"Gabriella," I yelled above the roar of the storm. "Move! Go! We need to get out of here," but she could hardly hear me. I grasped her upper arm, spun her around, and smacked her ass, hard .
"Move!"
That got her attention. She blinked as if waking from a dream, and when I pulled her along with me, she trotted to keep up. The door was shut tight with the wind pushing it closed, but I yanked it hard, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally opened. "Go!" I ordered. “Get your ass in there !"
When we were both safe inside, I pulled the door shut behind us. It grew suddenly quiet .
She looked up at me, her sopping wet hair hanging about her face in strands, her top clinging to her chest, her jeans sodden. A little trail of black mascara pooled around the edges of her eyes. She stood in silence, but when another clap of thunder boomed, she shut her eyes and tucked her chin against her chest. I grabbed her arm and pulled her along with me, not harshly but firmly enough that she wouldn’t freeze up again .
A tall boy with straggly brown hair and huge, round glasses blinked up at us from behind a desk. I could tell from the minute he looked at me that he knew who I was, and I pushed down the anger that twisted in my gut. I fantasized briefly–I’d grab him by the front of his shirt, shove him across the desk, and growl into his ear that if he told her who I was I'd fucking kill him. But as soon as the violent image came into my head, I pushed it away again. God, was it his fault that people knew me? That I had a reputation that preceded me? That people were afraid of me ?
For just tonight, I was not Dante Villanova, Mafia Prince and ruler-in-line to the Villanova Dynasty .
I was just Dante .
"Room for two," I ordered. "And I need one with two beds, please ."
"Y-yes, Mr. Vi — "
I held up a finger to stop him and shook my head sharply, using one of my go-to fake names. "Ringwald," I said. "Mister Ringwald ."
He blinked. "Certainly, Mister Ringwald. But I-I'm sorry to tell you, we have no more rooms with two beds. They're all taken ."
What the fuck ?
"What do you mean they're all taken?" How the hell did that happen ?
He shrugged. "Wedding last night down the road," he said. "All we have left is the master suite on the very top floor. But that suite is our most private, Mister Vi-Ringwald. You'll, um, not be disturbed, and it comes with free continental breakfast ."
I glanced over at Gabriella, who had her arms wrapped around herself, rocking back and forth, eyes shut tight. Jesus, she was still terrified. The thunder clapped ahead, and she emitted a little scream .
"Fine," I muttered. "Whatever. Just get me a room ."
"Yes, sir," he said, taking the credit card I offered him, the one with the fake name on it that we used for times like this. He stared at it, and I leaned across the counter and whispered to him. "Run the card. Stop talking to me. And get me the fucking room. Believe me, the card will go through." I could've charged the whole fucking hotel on it and it would run through. Jesus .
He ran it, his hand trembling as he handed me paperwork to sign. "Checkout is at noon, and breakfast begins at 7 a.m.," he said. "To the left is the entrance to the pool, sir, and down the hall — "
"Give me the damn key.” I sounded like a high school bully who was about to shake him down for his lunch money, but I needed to get the girl alone, to safety, where I could hold her in my arms and get her to stop trembling .
I needed to take care of her .
He handed me the key, I took Gabriella's hand, and I whisked her out of the lobby and to the elevator. But when I pushed the button, she shook her head from side to side .
Fuck.
"No elevator," she pleaded "No elevators, please. I hate them. And it's a storm. If we got stuck, and the electricity went out—please, no elevator ."
What had happened to this girl? Why was she so scared? Who had hurt her ?
How would I make them fucking pay ?
"Ok, honey," I said. "No elevator. We're a few floors up. Can you walk ?"
She stumbled behind me as I led her to the stairs, and I looked down. Her stupid broken flip-flop. "Take 'em off," I ordered, pointing to her shoes, and she obeyed, padding by my side barefoot, but when I opened the door to the stairwell, I cringed. It was littered with scattered pieces of broken glass. The stairs were filthy. Thunder rumbled again, and she screamed out loud. I bent, wrapped my arms around the back of her legs and scooped her up into my arms, letting the door shut hard behind us. Her arms looped around my neck, and her head fell to my chest. Though we were soaking wet, the warmth of her head on my chest made my insides curl a bit, and I wished that the flight up to our room was a lot longer than it was .
I took the stairs one at a time, laden with her in my arms, but she was a slight wisp of a thing, and easy to carry. "You're gonna be alright, babe. You're gonna be just fine. We're almost to our room now, okay ?"
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sp; She nodded silently. At least here, in the stairwell made of iron and concrete, the sounds of the storm outside were muted, and the storm raged in the distance .
Here, we were alone .
I continued the ascent until we got to the top floor. Shifting her up on my shoulder, I opened the door to the landing, and gently slid her to her feet on the dark gray carpet that lined the hallways. She opened her eyes and looked around .
"Thank you. How will I ever repay you ?"
I smirked and winked at her. "I'm sure we can come up with some ideas …"
Her eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open, but I just chuckled .
“I’m only joking, honey .”
I wouldn't take advantage of her. I might be a monster who'd killed people for revenge, but I would not take advantage of a girl. Even I had some morals. They were few and far between, but I had them .
"Come on," I said. "Your suite awaits." The carpet was worn thin with wear, but it was clean, and the hallway vacant, as I led her to our room. There were no sounds other than the pitter-patter of rain, and I wasn’t sure if it was because we were too far away from it, or if the storm really was dying down. I moved her along with me and slid the card into the slot that opened the door to our room. The light above the handle blinked green .
When I pushed opened the door and led her into the dark, vacant room, her eyes grew fearful. I was, after all, a complete stranger, about to take her into a hotel room, and maybe it was at that point she realized this wasn't the smartest move a girl could make. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Gabriella," I said, intentionally making my voice lower and softer. "You're safe, babe. Let's get you in and dry, yeah ?"
She nodded, following me, and the door clicked shut behind us. If she were any other girl, I'd be plotting my move now, how I'd seduce her into doing what I wanted, the quickest, mildly ethical way from point A (fully clothed) to point B (naked, fucking her). But right then, the only thought I had was how I'd get her dry, and how I'd keep her safe... from whatever made her scared. From whatever might keep us apart .