“We all have different relationships to the past. Sometimes, we cancel out the whole to rid ourselves of a few bad parts.”
“Mmm,” I hummed because I thought he was right but I’d never entertained the idea. “How did you get so wise?”
He slanted me a look. “Would you believe me if I said I was born this way?”
I laughed, some of the clotted poison in my veins dissipating. “No, I absolutely would not.”
He shrugged easily. “It’s the truth. I’m a very special man.”
I shook my head at his antics, wondering how it was possible he could charm me even when I was sunk deep in confusion and bad memories. There was no denying, even if I wanted to, that he was indeed a very special man.
“So, what’s our plan, then, capo?”
He darted a quick look at me as he revved the engine to pass a slow-moving car in the fast lane. “That sounds good.”
“What?”
“Our plan, you said, like we are a team.”
Anxiety spiked through me, but I took a deep breath to speak through it. “Aren’t we?”
“We are,” he agreed firmly, reaching a hand over to squeeze my thigh. “But this is new territory for us both. I don’t think I have to tell you that traditionally, women are kept in the dark about Family matters.”
“It’s a good thing you and I aren’t traditional then, isn’t it?” I was still hyper aware of the heaviness of the gun strapped to my thigh. “When Rocco had dared to insinuate that I could be taken from you…” I shivered. “I realized that I need to stop being a passive participant in my own life. I think I’ve been the victim too long. I want to be the kind of woman who fights for what she wants. And I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want you.”
Dante turned his hand over on the gear shift, beckoning me to lay my own on top. When I did, he threaded our fingers over the stick and squeezed. I stared at our joined fingers, how it seemed as though we were driving the speeding car together and I understood his unspoken symbolism.
If I wanted to fight with him, he would let me. No arguments or caveats. Dante was a powerful man because he didn’t fear other powerful people. He collected them like flowers for a bouquet and now, somehow, he’d decide I was worthy enough to be a part of his world.
His crew.
“Thank you for trusting me,” I whispered through the sudden thickness in my throat.
He shrugged one quilted shoulder. “Elena, I trusted you before I blackmailed you into moving into my house. Do you think I would let any old lawyer into my home?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I think you forced me to live with you because you wanted in my pants.”
“Certamente,” of course, he said with an arrogant smirk. “I could have had you anyway, but this sped up the process.”
“Arrogant,” I chastised, but there was no true censure behind the word.
The truth was, if Dante hadn’t been so self-assured, so tenacious in his pursuit of my heart, I didn’t think he could have succeeded. I was so resigned to being alone the rest of my life, I was almost ludicrously determined to remain that way.
“I don’t want you to worry about my plans,” Dante surprised me by saying as we moved further inland into the rolling hills of vivid green vegetation punctuated with citrus orchards and scrolling lines of cultivated grape vines. “Ignore Rocco Abruzzi. I have no intention of marrying Mirabella Ianni and I never have. Can you imagine? She is not the kind of woman I would fuck, she’s the kind a man like me eats for breakfast.”
He startled a laugh at of me. “Little Red and the big, bad wolf.”
His grin was entirely canine, his incisors white and glistening between those ruddy lips. “Yes. And the only woman I want to eat for breakfast is you. Spread your legs.”
I blinked at him, caught off balance by his abrupt change in topic. “Excuse me?”
“Spread your legs, Elena.” It was an order wrapped in velvet, a request with the subtle implication that aggression might be implemented if I didn’t follow his heed.
“You’re driving,” I pointed out helpfully, even though a little thrill zigged down my spine at the taboo idea.
“I’ve been driving since I was thirteen, I can multitask.”
I blinked again, but before I could censure myself, my thighs were parting.
Impatient, Dante lightly slapped the inside of my left thigh, prompting me to spread them wider.
“Enough business,” he declared in that arrogant manner of a mafia Don used to getting his way at all costs. “We may be fugitives, but we won’t live like that. I know you hate it here. I know it cost you everything to come and leave your world behind. Let me remind you why you took that risk.”