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DANTE
Itip the cab driver and gather my shit from the trunk, sighing as I shoulder my bag. Looking at my watch, I groan when I see it’s past one in the morning.
I told Cambria I’d be here tomorrow mid-morning, but an earlier flight opened up. I figured the sooner I got here, the sooner I could leave. It seemed like solid logic at the time, but now it’s pitch black out, and I don’t want to sneak into my old man’s house like a thief. Then again, he probably wouldn’t expect anything less from me.
Waving the cabbie off, I trudge up the two porch stairs and take a deep breath before opening the door. Only it’s locked. Which makes sense. It’s the middle of the goddamn night.
Well, this was a stupid idea.What was I thinking? It’s not like me to miss an important detail like not announcing my arrival and being locked out. This whole situation has thrown me off my game, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.
Looking around the property I bought for my father decades ago, I remember there being a little cottage around back. I’m not sure the last time anyone stayed there, but I’ve slept in worse places. Besides, it’s only for the night. With any luck, I’ll upset my father over breakfast and be on my way back to New York before lunch.
I trudge around the side of the house and into the backyard, frowning when I step in mud.
“Of fucking course,” I mutter as I lift my shoe out of the muck. Rationally, I know mud exists in New York City as well. But right now, this is all Chicago’s fault.
I eventually find the little structure tucked away in the corner. Finally. I’ve earned a few hours of shut-eye, however rough they might be.
Gripping the doorknob, I rattle it a few times and shove on the door, stumbling a bit when it gives way. Damn door hardly fits in its frame. I slam it behind me and turn around, only to be assaulted with some sort of net made of beads.
“What the fuck?” I grunt at the same time as a shriek fills the room.
“Stay back!” someone shouts. “I, um, I’m… armed!”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. As much as I hate to admit it, I heard her voice in my fitful sleep on the plane. I heard it in the cab ride over here. Am I hallucinating it right now?
“Cambria?” I ask as I fight my way out of what appears to be a beaded curtain, not a net.
“No, I’m… Tambria,” she says in the most unconvincing voice ever.
“You’re a shit liar.”
“And you’re trespassing.”
I manage to untangle myself from the tacky decor, and then I’m face to face with a curvy little ray of sunshine, complete with white-blonde hair that sparkles even in the darkness. Bright blue eyes blink at me, wide and tinged with fear. I’ll give her some credit; she may be terrified, but she’s standing on her bed, shoulders back, head high, chin out, ready to tackle the monster who woke her. She’s clutching something in her right hand, but I don’t think it’s a gun.
Stupid fucking moron, I berate myself. Of course, the nurse lives here. That’s part of her contract. It’s not like me to miss these details, and I hate the person I’ve become, all because of this trip.
Without permission, my eyes wander down the slope of her neck, lower, catching on her generous breasts beneath her barely-there tank top. I can’t stop myself from dropping my gaze to her wide hips, my fingers twitching to grab her there and pull her closer, closer, closer until I can feel every single one of her curves pressed against me. Jesus, her thick thighs and shapely calves are on display, those little sleep shorts doing nothing to hide all that skin.
I feel like a feral wolf licking my lips, ready to devour my prey.
“Hey,” Cambria spits. “Eyes up here, buddy.”
Her forceful tone almost pulls a chuckle out of me. She can’t be more than a few inches over five feet, and while Cambria has curves I can’t think about, she’s petite and no match for me. Still, I respect her spirit, which seems to be about fifteen feet tall.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I hedge, stepping toward her with my palms up. I can’t say I’ve ever been in a position of surrender, but something tells me this is the right move. I need a buffer if I want to survive this visit with my dad.
“Yeah, breaking and entering isn’t the best first impression,” she sasses.
Even though she’s encased in shadows, I can see her trembling. Her voice is strong, but it’s taking everything for her not to collapse. I can’t quite say what that does to me, but I don’t think I like her being afraid, and certainly not of me.
“Cambria, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m Dante.”
“Dante?” she repeats softly.
Fuck, I like the way she says my name. I like it way too much.
“Dante!” Cambria exclaims, her voice full of warmth and energy.
