True to his word, he did all the work, savouring, teasing, tasting…until she clung to him, urging his possession.
It was violently sweet, sensual and tender…so much so, it was almost more than she could bear.
Sunday was allocated as a family day, and Ben chose Taronga Park Zoo for their excursion.
Spring was in evidence everywhere, Taylor noted as the Mercedes traversed suburbs beneath Dante’s competent hands.
There were pink and white blossoms appearing on fruit trees, and gardens bore the emergence of colour beneath warm sunshine and almost clear blue sky.
A slight breeze teased green leaves on many tree branches, and tall city buildings directly across sparkling harbour waters provided a panoramic vista as the Mercedes slid into a parking bay.
‘I love going to the zoo,’ Ben enthused as he scrambled from his booster seat and jumped down onto the pavement.
‘No running,’ Taylor reminded, and he obediently took hold of her hand.
There was a muted beep as Dante electronically locked the car, and they walked together to the main entrance, paid and, once in the park itself, Dante swung Ben onto his shoulders.
‘Wow, this is cool. I can see everything.’
They had dressed casually in jeans, topped with a shirt and jacket, with comfortable trainers on their feet. Layered, Taylor mused, to suit the season.
The zoo was well-populated, with groups wandering along the many paths as they paused to view the numerous exhibits. Tourists were digitally recording flora and fauna, the many Australian wildlife exhibits, with the red kangaroo, wombat and koala proving the most popular.
The Orang-utan Rainforest, the elephant enclosure, with the giraffes and zebras were right up there among Ben’s favourite places to view.
By far the best, in his opinion, was the Free Flight Bird Show in an amphitheatre overlooking the harbour.
Lunch was eaten alfresco, and they took the Sky Safari Cable Car.
Ben remained in his element as the day progressed, and Taylor took pleasure in his company.
Dante was something else. Tall, broad-shouldered, he bore the look of a high-powered tycoon in relaxation mode. For even attired in casual clothes, with shades and ball-cap he attracted interested glances.
She tried to pin it down, and couldn’t come up with any one factor…more a combination of several. His fluidity of movement, stance, a deceptively calm persona that hid a steely ruthlessness with any adversary. Add sensuality and a compelling sense of passion…and the result was lethal.
Women looked…and wondered, while men conceded to varying degrees of admiration.
Taylor wore his ring, shared his bed, his home…and she knew that she also loved him deeply.
Attraction, recognition of something more, sexual chemistry at its zenith…she’d fought them all, and lost. For Dante had made her his with seemingly little effort.
He cared…but love? The all-consuming, ever-after kind? Maybe that would come in time.
The afternoon was almost at a close, and there was a cool bite to the air…evidence winter wasn’t quite done.
Taylor began turning away from the enclosure they were viewing and caught sight of a familiar male face…one she’d hoped never to see again, and she froze, hardly able to breathe.
Two years, yet his features were etched in her brain, for how could you ever forget the face of a man who’d launched such a vicious assault?
Even now, it crowded in on her, the sight, smell, and the fear.
Worse, that he recognised her too, and stood there, silently taunting her.
‘Taylor?’
Dante’s query barely registered, and he cupped a hand over her cheek as he subjected her to an intent gaze, noting her paled features, the stark expression in her eyes. ‘What is it?’
She couldn’t answer, for her voice seemed to be locked in her throat.
‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ He spared the area a searching look, and saw nothing to cause her reaction. Then his eyes narrowed, eliminating possibilities in rapid succession until there was only one.
‘Is it him?’ The question was softly voiced.
‘Brown woollen jacket, navy blue beanie,’ she managed in a stilted voice.
‘Take Ben.’
Her eyes widened at the silky command, and she grasped Ben’s hand, met the little boy’s anxious expression, and sought to banish it.
‘Shall we go take a quick look at the kangaroos?’
They hadn’t long left the enclosure, and it was only a short distance away.
‘Where’s Dante gone?’
‘He’ll be back soon.’
It didn’t seem long before Dante rejoined them, and there was little to determine from his expression. He placed a hand on Taylor’s cheek before swinging Ben up onto his shoulders and leading them all back to the car.
Sunday evenings involved a dinner treat, given it was Anna’s day off, and they stopped off at Double Bay, chose a child-friendly café and ordered a meal.
It was only later, when Ben was tucked into bed and asleep, that Taylor sought to query the outcome.
‘You caught up with him?’ There was no need to establish who, and it came as no surprise as Dante linked her hand in his as they descended the stairs.
Dante’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes assumed a quality she fervently prayed would never be aimed at her. ‘You must know that I did.’ Quietly and very concisely he’d explained he’d have the police reactivate Taylor’s case and ensure he was brought to justice, endorsing the threat with a digital image on camera display as identification.
Her heart kicked in to a faster beat as he drew her close and lightly brushed her lips.
‘I take care of my own.’
Words that made her feel warm, protected, and she realised that she did feel safe. She had done for a long time now and she knew that it was down to Dante. She parted her lips and lightly caressed his tongue before stepping away from him.
‘You have work,’ she managed with an impish smile. ‘And so do I.’
He stroked a light finger down the length of her nose. ‘You’ll keep.’
It was later…much later, when Dante entered her home office and regarded the slight droop of her shoulders as her fingers flew across the keys.
‘Enough, Taylor. Save the work and close down.’
She glanced up from the screen. ‘When I finish this paragraph.’
‘Five minutes.’
She was done in four, and she entered their suite a few steps ahead of him, divesting her clothes in quick, economical movements, aware he mirrored her actions.
Taylor caught up her sleep top and had pulled it part-way over her head when warm hands covered hers and tugged the top free.
‘What—?’
‘You won’t need it.’
He didn’t offer another word as he placed a hand beneath her knees and carried her into the en suite…where, she saw at once, he’d filled the spa-bath and set the temperature to warm.
‘Decadent.’ Delicious, she added silently, and gasped a little as he stepped in with her in his arms, then sank down and pulled her to sit between his thighs.
Heaven, as the water started to pulse, and she sighed with pleasure as he began to massage her shoulders, easing out the kinks.
It was all too easy to simply close her eyes and let her mind drift.
Precisely his aim, as he sought to ensure she was sufficiently relaxed so she slept undisturbed, with no dark memories surfacing to tip her into a nightmare.
Hours before, it had taken all his control not to put a fist in her assailant’s face. Icy rage, such as he’d never experienced before, consumed him, and he’d gained a small degree of satisfaction as his threat had hit home.
He possessed the most beautiful hands, Taylor mused as they soothed and caressed, and she let her head fall back as his lips sought the vulnerable pulse at the base of her throat.
Gentle fingers teased the peak of each breast, t
hen slid low to seek the throbbing pleasure pulsing at the apex of her thighs.
He took his time, gently easing her high, holding her there as she arched against him, then he used his mouth in a flagrantly erotic kiss while he absorbed the cry as it rose in her throat.
Again the waves of sensation radiated through her body, and she twisted her head and nipped his shoulder with her teeth.
With a husky sound he lifted her to face him, watching her expression as he positioned her to accept him, glimpsed the way her eyes dilated, saw the moment she went blind as her orgasm consumed her, then he covered her mouth with his own, savouring her pleasure and taking his own.
Afterwards he cut the pulsing jets, then lifted her onto the tiled floor, filched a towel and dried her, himself, then he took her to bed, curled her close, switched off the bedside lamp…and held her through what remained of the night.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WEDNESDAY morning Taylor unclipped the safety harness on Ben’s booster seat and lifted him out from the car.
‘We’re doing finger-painting today.’ Ben’s smile stole into her heart and rested there. ‘It’s going to be fun.’
Together they crossed the parking area and entered the brightly decorated hall, greeted one of the teacher’s assistants, then Taylor accompanied Ben to the cloakroom, watched as he hung his small backpack on his name-designated hook, then followed him to a group of children.
‘Bye, sweetheart.’ She sank down to his eye level and gave him an affectionate hug, felt the small arms wind round her neck and kissed his cheek. ‘See you this afternoon. Have a great day.’
He offered a happy grin. ‘You, too.’
Taylor waited the few brief minutes to ensure he was happily ensconced, then she acknowledged the teacher’s assistant before crossing to her car.
Clouds were rapidly banking up across the skyline, and within minutes rain splattered the windscreen, then rapidly changed into a hefty downpour.
Great. Hopefully by the time she reached the inner city, the worst of the rain would have lessened.
It didn’t, and the few free allocated parking bays adjacent the police station were already taken…which meant circling the block, then the next, before she slid the car into a vacant bay.
Fortunately she’d allowed ample time before her interview appointment, and an umbrella shielded her from the worst of the rain as she covered the distance.
Police stations were mostly functional, a little battle-scarred, and this particular one in a less salubrious inner-city suburb definitely showed signs of wear and tear.
If she’d wanted modern, she could have chosen a station elsewhere.
All it took was a quick glance to realise the reality matched her quest for atmosphere.
And then some…For the waiting area hosted a few men in various guises, one so heavily bearded and bearing tattoos on what appeared to be every visible area of skin. There were also four women, two of whom looked to be in their late teens, their attire garish, extreme, wearing heavy make-up and sporting bed-hair.
Grunge was the order of the day, with the odour of stale alcohol and cigarette smoke seeping through the inadequate veil of cleaners’ antiseptic.
She’d deliberately dressed low-key in jeans, with a jacket worn over an open-necked blouse, and kept make-up to a bare minimum.
Taylor waited her turn, then stated her appointment time and with whom to the officer behind the counter. She saw there were no vacant chairs and so stood to one side to wait.
The shoulder-bag held a mini tape recorder, spiral notebook, pens, and a comprehensive list of questions…in duplicate…concisely written, so she could cram as much inside knowledge into the time allotted her.
All in the name of research.
Imagination was fine, internet research a credible tool, and film provided the visual. But nothing compensated for the opportunity to experience the reality.
Phones rang in the background, worn filing cabinets slid open and closed with increasing regularity with the constant ebb and flow of people signing in for whatever charged offence they’d committed.
A feminine voice raised in argument and peppered with explicit oaths rose above the cacophony of sound, together with that of an irate offender whose belligerence appeared to severely test the officer’s patience.
Authenticity at its most vocal, Taylor mused as her writer’s mind absorbed it all in detail.
Minutes later the outer door swung open and a lean, mean-looking male in his twenties shuffled towards the counter.
He wore shabby-chic low-waisted jeans, a leather jacket over a T-shirt, a kerchief knotted at the back of his head and trainers on his feet, though it wasn’t so much the apparel but his burning, wide-eyed stare that lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
It soon became apparent taking his turn held little appeal, something about which he became quite vocal, although he quietened at a harsh directive from the officer manning the counter.
Two detectives emerged from a locked door guarding the entrance to a warren of internal offices, and exited the waiting room.
Taylor idly skimmed the many posters and notices pinned to almost every wall surface…information; penalties; warnings; phone contact numbers for the mentally, physically and sexually abused women suffering domestic violence.
Realism, in stark detail.
The guy with the kerchief began tapping one trainer against the linoleum, unable to keep still…needing, presumably, a fix of choice.
What happened next became a blur…one second he was seated, then he was in front of her, hands roughly dragging her upright, and a knife-blade rested a fraction of an inch from her throat.
Dear God.
Everything stopped…or at least it seemed that way, for Taylor was unaware of movement or sound.
‘All of you—out. Now.’ The command was issued in a guttural snarl, and the waiting area cleared within seconds.
Had the officer manning the desk pressed a hidden panic button? Was there even one? Who knew?
She had the presence of mind to remain still. So too did the officer, as he began the psych thing, attempting to talk her captor down.
Two uniformed men emerged through the locked door and made a controlled effort to persuade him to give them the knife and let her go…whereupon he began shouting, vowing to kill unless his demand for a certain officer’s presence was met…now. When he was told the officer wasn’t on duty, the blade stung her throat and she felt the warm trickle of blood.
‘Get him here, or I’ll cut her again.’
The officer motioned he’d make the call, and Taylor watched as he keyed in a series of digits.
Think calm, focus. The words seeped into her mind, sharpening it. Reality was a different ball-game from practised self-defence moves under supervision. Except knowledge gave her an edge…slight, but with the element of surprise, she just might be able to provide a diversion.
She was in a police station, for heaven’s sake! There was no better place to have experienced help on hand.
‘Press the loudspeaker function.’ The command was terse, angry, demanding. ‘I want to hear his voice.’
The ringing tone sounded loud, and she used her captor’s momentary distraction to sink her teeth into his hand, connecting with the bony joint at the base of his thumb. Simultaneously she rammed an elbow into his ribs, then used his body’s momentum to put him on the floor.
Everything happened fast as two officers converged, cuffed and marched the guy through a doorway en route to a holding cell, and a woman in uniform led her into an office and seated her.
‘I’m fine,’ Taylor assured with as much calm as she could muster, caught the woman’s quick smile as she opened a cupboard and extracted a first-aid kit.
‘I’ll just clean you up a bit before your husband gets here.’
Dante? They’d called him? Why? ‘It’s only a small nick,’ she protested.
It was then she saw the blood on her hands, her T-shirt…and re
alised there were more nicks than she’d first thought. In fact, the one on her hand resembled a slash where the knife had caught her.
On cue, it began to sting…and the breath hissed through her teeth as a swab of disinfectant hit.
A cup of tea followed, another officer took a statement and then Dante was there.
Tall, forbidding, indomitable…appearing icily calm as he crossed to hunker down in front of her.
One look at the darkness in his eyes caused her to swallow convulsively. ‘They shouldn’t have called you.’
He lifted a hand and trailed light fingers down her cheek. ‘I disagree.’
‘I hope you weren’t in an important meeting.’
A finger gently pressed her lips. ‘Nothing is more important to me than you.’
Her eyes widened. Well, then.
‘You didn’t think to fill me in on today’s prospective appointment?’ Dante queried with deceptive mildness.
‘You probably would have raised an objection.’
‘Indeed.’ At the very least, suggested a police station in a safer area, and ensuring she was accompanied there. Madre di Dio.
‘It was just some research and I had an interview,’ she explained. ‘It should have gone as planned.’
‘Except it didn’t. And you haven’t answered the question.’
‘Probably,’ Taylor admitted slowly, then added, ‘eventually.’
He rested his forehead against her own. ‘It hasn’t occurred to you that I’ve just spent the worst twenty-five minutes of my life?’
His mouth grazed hers with a gentleness that melted her bones, then he rose to his full height. ‘Let’s get you out of here.’
‘But, my research. I have an interview.’
‘No,’ Dante refuted quietly, ‘you don’t. Not here, not now.’
‘I’m fine, Dante.’
‘You’re visiting a doctor’s surgery to have him check those cuts and ensure you receive the appropriate booster shots. Then I’m taking you home.’
‘I have my car—’
‘Which Claude will collect later.’ He turned towards the woman officer. ‘You don’t need my wife for anything else?’
The Italian's Ruthless Marriage Command (HQR Presents) Page 15