Page 29

‘Yes, honestly I am,’ I said, aware that Dante stood next to me, stiff and tense. I turned to him. ‘Could I hold the phone?’ I asked. ‘So I can speak to her properly.’

His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched tight, and I knew he wanted to refuse my request. But I had the strange suspicion that his reaction wasn’t just a show of strength, or even his desire to maintain control over the conversation—because something else flicked across his face, before he could mask it, that looked like envy.

Was he envious of my close relationship with my sister, with Vito? Did it bother him? It seemed ridiculous, given he was such a hard man… But still I sensed his reluctance, before he shrugged and let me take the phone from him, saying, ‘Solo per un minuto, Eva.’

‘Grazie, Dante,’ I murmured and meant it.

The minute he had permitted me went by too fast. I caught up on all Mia’s news while reassuring her I was unharmed after my ordeal. Her baby boy was adorable, and Vito was as besotted with his new son as she was. They were still discussing names. The guilt rose up to choke me though, when I discovered the baby had been born hours after Dante had kidnapped me—Mia’s labour triggered three weeks early by the stress. And then my blush became radioactive when Mia told me they had received one text from Dante on the night of my kidnapping, and then another a few days ago, with a photo of me attached.

‘Vito has been demanding proof of life from him ever since that first text. But when he finally sent us a photo, it was of you in his bed. Asleep. And naked.’

I could see from her concerned expression what the photo had made her think—and I could guess when he must have taken it, on one of the mornings when he had woken up before me.

Had Dante sent it deliberately, to freak my sister right out of her mind?

‘Are you sure he hasn’t hurt you?’ Mia lowered her voice, her expression shadowed. ‘I know he’s there with you, but Vito says he doesn’t understand English, so you can tell us the truth.’

I shook my head, feeling guiltier now than ever, but determined to put Mia’s mind at rest. I should probably have told her that Dante did speak English but, weirdly, I felt it was a confidence he had shared with me and I didn’t want to betray that trust… I also didn’t want Mia to think he had coerced me when I murmured, ‘He didn’t force me, Mia.’

Her eyebrows rose. But her gaze remained shadowed. ‘But he is sleeping with you?’

‘I… Well, I did tell you he was hot…’ I murmured, trying to lighten the mood, while the guilt was starting to crucify me. Because while they’d been terrified for me, I’d been sleeping with their arch-enemy every chance I got.

‘Evie…’ She sighed, clearly devastated by my admission. ‘You do realise Stockholm syndrome is a real thing? And you don’t have a lot of experience…’ She hesitated. I sent up a silent prayer that she didn’t know exactly how little experience I’d had, until Dante. ‘But just because he can give you orgasms—and if he’s anything like his brother I can imagine they’re impressive,’ she added, colouring now, too, ‘that does not mean he’s not taking advantage of you…’

‘But he’s not.’ I swallowed down the lump in my throat. We’d always been honest with each other—my virginity notwithstanding. But I also knew Mia had always felt responsible for me, more like a mum than an older sister, and I didn’t want her to carry that burden any longer. Because the one thing that being with Dante had taught me about myself was that I could survive, even thrive, when life threw me a curveball—and, seriously, was there any bigger curveball than getting kidnapped by a Mafia don? ‘And he’s not as dangerous or ruthless as you think, at least not with me,’ I added, aware of him standing beside me, listening intently to every word. ‘He’s been careful with me. And I trust him not to hurt me.’

The minute the confession was out of my mouth, I heard Dante’s breathing roughen beside me. I glanced over my shoulder to see him frowning down at me. He didn’t seem happy about this revelation, but I refused to regret it. Why shouldn’t I be honest with him, as well as with my sister? Our relationship had changed over the past week. A lot.

Mia wasn’t buying it though. ‘Why would you trust him not to hurt you when he’s a violent, dangerous man who is using you, Evie?’

‘Vito is a dangerous man, but you trust him, don’t you?’ I replied. ‘Isn’t this the same thing?’

‘No. It’s not… Vito loves me, and he would never…’

Before she could continue though, comparing Dante unfavourably with his brother, Dante tore the phone from my grasp and demanded to speak to his brother in Italian.

I could hear him arguing with Vito. The baby started to wail in the background. I felt sick with guilt again, for challenging Mia’s impression of Dante when she was obviously just trying to protect me. But as Dante paced across the salon, while arguing with his brother, the negotiations between them apparently starting in earnest, I couldn’t regret what I’d admitted about my growing feelings for him.

Yes, he was ruthless and violent, and he’d kidnapped me. But he hadn’t hurt me. And, oh my God, when we made love… I felt totally seen. And needed. For the first time in my life.

I wasn’t the discarded daughter any longer, the baby sister who had to be taken care of. Because when Dante touched me, when he held me, all he saw was me, the woman he wanted—and it made me feel powerful in a way I never had before.

Maybe Mia was right. Maybe I did have Stockholm syndrome, brought on by an overdose of endorphins. Maybe Dante had cast a spell over me I couldn’t break. I didn’t kid myself his feelings were anywhere near as intense as mine… But at least I felt like an adult, who didn’t need her sister’s protection any more.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have compared my feelings for Dante to Mia’s love for Vito. How could I be sure the feelings I had for this man, however strong, were more than just lust? But one thing I did know, I’d never felt anything this intense for anyone before… And I knew I would be torn when I had to leave him.

Once the call was finished, Dante dropped the phone and marched towards me.

‘Ti voglio, adesso,’ he said, words I’d heard so many times in the past week I knew what they meant.

I want you, now.

The raw emotions battering me and the impatience in his eyes made my need for him intensify too. ‘Sì, Dante.’

He boosted me into his arms, clasping my bottom, forcing my thighs wide, then carted me to the breakfast table. He shoved the dishes aside with one arm, making them scatter and crash onto the floor. Perching me on the table’s edge, he dragged his cock out—already erect—then pushed up the T-shirt I wore and tore off my panties.

His urgency only excited me more, the hot melting sensation at my core flooding my sex.