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My jaw clenched as my finger itched for my gun. He may not have deserved her.
But neither did I.
She spun to face her dance partner, a lean and well-dressed businessman who wanted to stain her with his filth. His hands slid around the back of her hips, fingers precariously close to her ass as Irina did a body roll and touched her body to his. Tossing her hair back and glancing over my way, I watched a teasing smirk cross her face as she shook it out and turned her attention back to him.
She stumbled in her heels, far too drunk to be dancing like she didn't give a shit about the consequences. The guy steadied her against his body as her face transformed with a giggle I couldn't hear.
I knew the sound by heart. Had it branded on my very being. It should have been for me.
His hands slipped down further, caressing her ass through the fabric of her dress. I watched his eyes light with something greedy when she didn't adjust them and saw the exact moment he realized she was drunk enough to make a mistake and go home with him for the night.
He leaned down to say something in her ear, and her body stilled for just a moment. Her eyes glanced over my way briefly, shaking it off a few seconds later. She nodded her head hesitantly, her teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip she'd painted the color of blood. He stepped back from her, holding out a hand for her to take so he could take her home.
Make love to her.
Fuck her.
All the things I'd never be able to do.
She paused, staring at that outstretched hand and understanding as well as I did that it would be new territory. Irina danced. She teased.
She never went home with any of them when she realized I wouldn't intercede. But something about that night was different. Something about it made her body sag with the weight of our reality.
Her eyes were wet when she looked my way one last time, the smile she gave me brittle as she placed her hand in his. Everything inside me tightened, agony and rage filling the void in my body a heart was meant to occupy.
She took that first step, teetering in her heels as they shook, and her free hand trembled as she lifted it to wipe away the lone tear that slid over her rosy cheeks. I wasn't aware I'd taken a step until she paused, hope filling her striking face as she stared at my shoe. My gaze slid down to it as my jaw clenched, incapable of controlling my body as her pain drew me closer.
She stared up at me with wide eyes, shock making her red lips part. One step after another until she was right in front of me. Closer than she'd been since the day I sat at the bar with her six months ago. With no clue who she was, no concept of just what kind she was and the fact that I'd never let myself touch her.
If there'd been a muscle in my chest, it would have beat for the first time that night.
For her.
"Let go, Cuore Mio," I ordered. She dropped his hand instantly as if his touch scalded her, straightening her body as she stared up at me. Her slender body went solid as she waited, her intense green gaze never leaving mine as she undoubtedly waited for the push that would come. For the moment, I would remind her she wasn't mine and never would be.
Irina had feelings for somebody else. For the man she wanted me to be, the hope she saw inside me without accepting the damage.
The filth that stained my soul could never be allowed to touch her.
I held out a hand, watching as she stared at it. Without glancing back for the man she'd been prepared to welcome into her body to sever the toxic obsession that strummed between us like a soul bond, she placed her perfectly manicured palm in mine. Electric sparks shot through me at the touch, reminding me for just a moment what it would be like to feel.
But with feeling came pain.
I'd suffered enough pain in my life, I wouldn't welcome the total shattering of my soul that Irina would give if she saw the damage of my life.
She followed me as I guided her for the exit without a word. The walk took everything she had; her steps coming more unsteady as she swayed. The cool September air kissed her skin when we emerged out the front doors of the club, and she wrapped her arms around herself. With a sigh of frustration, I turned and scooped her into my arms. She wrapped hers around my neck as she squeaked in surprise, settling in with her head on my shoulder as exhaustion weighed her down.
She'd drank far too many gins and tonics to be aware of her surroundings, and I tried to stop the condemnation that bubbled up. Irina wasn't unaware of the dangers in the city, but she still took risks.
One night every month, she shed her professional surface to go to Indulgence and torture me. Her green eyes were hazy as she studied me, her head lolling against me with more weight with every step I took. The bare skin of her legs draped over my suit-covered arm was the epitome of temptation.
I wanted to run my hands over her. Wanted to see my skin against hers. But the raised flesh on the backs of my hands reminded me of who I was. Of where I belonged.
She was mostly asleep by the time I set her in the passenger seat of my SUV, smiling up at me through the drowsy look on her face. My heart clenched, knowing she thought the day had come where I finally gave in to the pulsating thread that connected us. I couldn't put into words, but something about Irina just felt like mine. Even though I knew she wouldn't be.
Eventually, she'd tire of waiting for me to make a move. Eventually, she'd move on with a man and he'd give her the white picket fence and two point five kids she needed. Her soft snores filled the SUV as I climbed in the driver's side. If she'd been any of the Bellandi girls, I might have chuckled. With Irina, all I wanted was to fall asleep to that sound.
I drove her to the nearest Bellandi owned hotel, checking in and carrying her up to the room I booked. It wasn't the Penthouse, but Irina would sleep through the night and race out first thing the next morning.
