Page 112 of My Favorite Kidnapper

“Well, you’ll be much younger. And handsome.”

“Little Bee,” I warned.

“And none of these defects.” She tapped the dimples on my cheeks. “And certainly none of the furrows.”

“I didn’t have those before you.”

“Well, since they make you sexier, you should thank me.”

“I should thank you for a lot of things. Like this cake. When do I get to eat it?”

She grinned and wrapped her arms around my neck. “After you eat me,” she whispered.

“Oh, we are demanding now.”

“Get used to it.”

“Happily.”

Her eyes were soft, melting pools of love I wanted to drown in.

“I love you, Dante.”

“I love you, Little Bee. I’ll make you happy.”

“You already do.”

I lifted her to the counter, standing between her legs.

I waggled my eyebrows. “Then let’s get busy, Little Bee.”

Her laughter was music to my ears.

Epilogue

BRIANNA

I woke up, shivering. Sitting up, I stared in horror around my room. Small, dingy walls. An uncomfortable bed. The air was cold, the sheets rough.

I was in my apartment. Alone.

No dappled sun filtering through the windows. No luxurious bed. No strong arms.

No Dante.

It had all been a dream. The constant buzz I could hear was my alarm, telling me it was time to get up, head to MaryJo’s bakery, and begin another long day of endless work.

I put my head down and began to cry.

Suddenly, the mattress dipped, and I felt heat. His heat. His warmth.

“Hey, Little Bee, wake up. Wake up for me.”

I startled, opening my eyes, meeting Dante’s golden gaze. He pulled me closer, pressing kisses to my head. “I’m here, Little Bee. Right here.”

I burrowed into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. As always, being this close to him calmed me, and I relaxed, letting his proximity soothe me.

“I was back there—in that apartment. Alone. All of this—you—were gone,” I gasped.