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He had perfect control there. Holding back, not just physically but emotionally. Exulting in what happened between them, feeling it as a hot rush of pleasure so intense he’d never known it with another woman and yet, keeping a little piece of himself from her.
Emotions were not things to put on exhibit. Control was a man’s sole protection against a hostile world.
Control, goddamn it, Dante thought.
His hands knotted into fists. Anger burned like a fire in his belly. Anger, and something far more primitive.
Tally was asleep, satisfied she’d made a fool of him again, and he was here, wide awake, trapped like an insect in a web of rage.
“Enough,” he growled.
Dante flung open the library door and headed for the stairs.
CHAPTER NINE
MOONLIGHT SPILLED from a sky bright with stars and lay like fine French lace across the floor of Tally’s bedroom.
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Some other time, she’d have noticed and admired it.
Not tonight.
Instead, she sat curled in a window seat, her back to the night, focused only on the turmoil inside her, anger and pain warring for control of her heart.
She hated Dante, hated the things he’d accused her of. How could he think her capable of being a cheat and a liar?
Maybe because you told him you slept with another man while he was still your lover, a voice inside her whispered contemptuously.
Yes. All right, but what else could she have done? She’d wanted to protect herself and Sam. Now she knew she’d done the right thing. Dante had shown a side of himself she’d never imagined.
She’d always believed he was a man who suppressed his emotions.
Tonight, he’d been a man out of control, capable of anything.
Tally shivered and drew the silk robe more closely around herself. The night seemed endless, especially without Sam in the next room. The baby had dozed off in her play crib in the little room next to the housekeeper’s.
“Let her stay the night, Ms. Sommers,” Mrs. Tipton had said. “Why wake her from a sound sleep?”
Now Tally was glad she’d left Sam where she was. Her little girl needed the rest. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
She and Sam were going home to Shelby.
She’d scrub floors for a living, move into a furnished flat above a storefront on Main Street if she had to. Better that, better to raise her daughter in poverty, than to raise her here.
Tally rose to her feet and paced the bedroom, the details of her confrontation with Dante as alive as if they’d happened minutes instead of hours ago.
What gave him the right to ask where she’d been? To accuse her of sneaking off to be with Samantha’s father? She’d come within a breath of laughing in his face at that, except it really wasn’t funny.
Okay. She’d made a mistake, accepting this job. Well, a mistake could be remedied. And maybe some good had come of it. At least now she knew exactly what she felt for Dante Russo.
She despised him.
Tally paused, wrapped her arms around herself and drew a shuddering breath. She had to do something or go crazy. She’d pack. Yes. That was an excellent idea. She’d pack now. That way, come morning, all she’d have to do was take Sam and get the hell out of this snake pit.
Ellen had hung all her clothes in the closet, including the things Saks had delivered this afternoon. Tally dumped her old stuff in her suitcase and ignored the rest. Let Dante give it away. Let him burn it, for all she gave a damn.
She didn’t want anything his money had bought.
