Dante steers me into the bedroom, setting my bag next to the closet, leading me toward the bed.
“I need to take a bath,” I mumble as he spins me in his arms to face him.
“After. This first.”
His lips claim mine and there’s no protesting as his tongue darts into my mouth. Wrapping my arms around him, I sigh as he lifts me in his arms and carefully sets me on the bed. My head begins to spin with lust, the sweet, addicting kind that takes me out of my head and far from reality, so I feel nothing but the pleasure of his touch.
He makes quick work of our clothes, and as my eyes rove his naked body, I instantly forget about the bath—all I want is to feel him deep inside me. But Dante has other plans. Spreading my legs wide, he settles between them to pleasure me with his tongue, his lips, his thick fingers, so I just close my eyes and sink into the firestorm of sensations he’s drawing out of me. It’s one hit of pleasure after another, lifting me higher, making me float and dip and spiral.
And need.
My fingers dig into his hair as he finally moves over my body, and his cock gliding into me feels like coming home. His name bursts from my lips again and again as he pushes me into a blinding orgasm. Everything feels right in that moment—a sense of peace and perfection pumping through me as I ride the waves of pleasure.
The next thing I know, the blankets are pulled up to my chin and then I hear the sound of water running from the en suite. The lush scent of cherry blossom fills the air, making me smile as I sit up. Dante comes out of the bathroom, his arms loosely crossed as he watches me.
“Your bath is ready. I’ll have some food brought up while you’re soaking. Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
Just like that, I feel cared for again.
By the time I slide into bed next to Dante, I’m warm, full and…content. With his arms wrapped around me, a dreamless sleep comes fast, but so does morning. I’m a little disoriented as I blink groggily at the sun-soaked room, lying in a bed that’s both familiar and strange.
It’s Dante’s bed. No—our bed. In our room. Home, in California.
Unfortunately, a glance at the clock tells me I’ve slept way later than I intended. I need to get to the tasting room. Try to give this life of mine some sense of purpose and accomplishment. Dante had been insistent that I don’t have to work if I don’t want to, but it only confirmed that he still doesn’t understand me as a person. Luckily, there’s just over an hour until the first tasting of the day, so I still have time to get ready. I practically leap out of bed.
I wash my face and pull back my hair, then throw on some light makeup, all while trying my best to hold back the familiar nausea that plagues me every morning. Opening the closet, I’m relieved to see that all my designer clothes are still here. I pull out one of my favorite skirt suits and quickly get dressed. I’m aware it’s at risk of getting barfed on if I’m not careful, but I won’t be able to fit into it for much longer, and dammit I want to look good for my first day back.
After a brief stop in the kitchen for a hug from Alain and a bland (but fairly safe) late breakfast of oatmeal, a special blend of ginger and peppermint tea, and toast, I call the Bellanti offices and leave a brief message with Ruby to let Dante know I’ll be in the tasting room for the next few hours. The last thing I need is for him to go ballistic because he can’t find me. When I step outside the front door, I find Donovan waiting for me.
“Morning,” I say. “Are you my personal guard?”
He merely nods, escorting me silently to the winery.
My spirits are lifted by the time I walk into the tasting room, leaving Donovan at a small corner table where he can keep an eye on me for the duration of my shift. Some of the staff bombard me right away, inquiring about how my sick mother is doing. It takes me a second to realize that must be the story Dante gave everyone to cover for my sudden disappearance.
I assure them that she’s making a rapid recovery, and that the doctors say she’ll be back to her old self in no time. Honestly, I feel bad every time I have to lie to a coworker, but the truth isn’t for them to know.
Speaking of my mother, the tummy tea recipe she’d sent to Alain for me really seems to be doing the trick. I’m a little queasy off and on during my shift, but by the time I’m ready to clock out, the bean hasn’t rioted out my breakfast. I’ll have to call my mom later and thank her.
That stops me in my tracks. I can just…call my mom. What a concept.
There’s a smile on my face as I collect Donovan and let him know I’m heading to the Bellanti offices next, to go over some new purchase orders.
“You’re more than welcome to wait for me in the lobby,” I tell him. “Or if you want to be closer to my office, I’m sure Ruby wouldn’t mind the company.”
“I can sit with Ruby,” he says.
I swear I see Donovan’s cheeks turn the slightest hint of pink.
But a few steps into the building, my ears are assaulted by the foul, familiar sound of Jessica’s distinctively fake, overly sweet laughter coming from one of the offices down the hall.
Oh, hell no.
Bitterness wells in my throat, the tummy tea suddenly losing its effect.
I keep walking, but my mood is ruined.
