AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But not as much as he did.
Dante tucked his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels. He’d never believed in luck. What you got out of life was in direct proportion to what you put into it, and yet he knew it was luck, good fortune, whatever you wanted to call it, that had given him this second chance with Tally.
He’d lost her through his own callous behavior. He understood that now. He’d treated her like a possession, taking her from the shelf when he wanted to show her off, returning her when he’d finished. It was how he’d always treated his lovers. Kept them at a distance, bought them elaborate gifts, and politely eliminated them from his life when he got bored.
Dante’s jaw clenched.
But Tally had never behaved like his other lovers. She’d kept herself at a distance. That was why she’d refused his elaborate gifts and left behind the ones he’d insisted she accept. And she had never bored him. Never. Not for a moment, in bed or out.
At some point, he’d realized it. And it had shaken him to the core. He’d reacted by pushing her away because he hadn’t been ready to admit what she had come to mean to him. As recently as a few weeks ago, he’d still been lying to himself about his feelings for her.
That whole thing about wanting to sleep with her to get revenge, get her out of his system…
Sheer, unadulterated idiocy.
It had always been easier to pretend she was just another woman passing through his life than admit his Tally was special. That what he felt for her was special. That what he felt for her was—that it was—
“Dante?”
He swung around, saw her in the doorway and felt his heart swell. And when she smiled, he thought it might burst.
“I knocked,” she said, with a little smile, “but you didn’t—”
Dante held out his arms. She went into them and he held her close.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
She leaned back in his embrace. “Not too dressed up?”
He shook his head. “Perfect.”
That was the only word to describe her in a softly clinging silk dress and matching jacket in a color he’d have called green but he suspected women gave a more complex name. Her shoes were wispy things, all straps and slender heels, the kind that made a man imagine his woman wearing them with whatever was under the dress and nothing else.
Dante had a pretty good idea of what was under that dress. He’d bought Tally a drawer full of wispy lingerie from The Silk Butterfly, a shop he’d passed on Fifth Avenue.
“Hand-sewn lace,” she’d said, her cheeks taking on a light blush. “I’ll feel naked under my clothes.” And he’d taken her in his arms and shown her just how exciting that would be for them both.
“I know tonight’s important to you.”
“You’re what’s important to me.”
“Yes, but tonight—the Children’s Fund dinner…”
“Tally. We don’t have to go. I told you that. We can have a quiet dinner at that little place on the corner and—”
“No. No, I don’t want you to change anything because of me. Everyone you know will be there.”
“Everyone we know. And they’ll see how happy we are to be together again.”
She nodded, but her eyes were clouded. “There’ll be questions.”
Dante raised one eyebrow. “No one will dare to ask questions of me.” That made her laugh, just as he’d hoped it would. He took her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “I missed you.”
“You saw me an hour ago,” she said with another little laugh.
“And that’s far too long to be without you.” He drew her closer. “It’s going to cost you a kiss.”
“Dante. Someone will see.”
