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“Hmm. She is kind of cool. She’s back in Chicago right now actually, but she’s training for some big thing so…” He clears his throat as though he’s said too much — shown me too much of his real self. Then he turns to the conversation so expertly back to me. “You don’t have these dreams when you’re in my bed. Is there something about this room that’s a problem for you?”
Heat flushes over my cheeks. It’s not about the room at all.
“Kat?” he asks again.
“It’s not the room,” I breathe.
He’s silent, waiting for me to explain. I feel like such a fool for even admitting this, but… “It’s you.”
“But I’m here with you now?”
“But you weren’t holding me,” I whisper as my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I can’t believe I’ve become so dependent on this man who basically kidnapped me — a man who has made it abundantly clear that I am nothing more than a warm body to him.
The muscles in his chest tense, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. God, I’m such an idiot.
He lies back down, wrapping his arms tighter around me as he pulls me with him until I’m lying on top of him.
“I’m okay now,” I mumble, feeling like the world’s biggest fool. I try to push myself up, but he tightens his hold.
“Go to sleep, kitten,” he says softly.
Accepting defeat, I lay my head against his chest again and listen to the steady thrumming of his heartbeat against my ear. He strokes my hair and whispers something in Italian that I don’t understand, but the deep, soothing timbre of his voice makes me feel safe and protected.
I’m falling for this monster even though I’m trying my damn hardest to keep him at a safe distance. I’ve kept my heart behind a wall for so long, but he makes me realize that wall was only made of glass and he’s shattered it without even trying.
He’s an enigma. And the contrast between the man he is now, holding me and making me feel safe, to the one who ignores me and makes me feel entirely worthless, is going to break me. I don’t think I can handle being broken for a second time.
This is why I need to leave.
Chapter17
Kat
Islept late and Dante was gone when I woke. He’d worked out and eaten breakfast by the time I made it down to the kitchen and I don’t know if I’m relieved or not that he’s not sitting opposite me wearing nothing but a pair of boxing shorts as I eat my scrambled eggs. I am such an idiot for becoming so reliant on him, and even more of one for actually telling him that last night.
I close my eyes as a wave of embarrassment rolls in my stomach as I recall the things I said to him.
I’m enjoying the last bite of the delicious eggs Sophia made me when Joey strolls into the kitchen — all tanned long legs, thick dark hair, pouty lips and dripping with entitlement. I roll my eyes as she takes a seat opposite me and proceeds to stare at me like I’m an exhibit in a museum.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“No.” She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head.
I pick up my coffee and take a gulp.
“You want some pancakes, Miss Moretti?” Sophia asks.
Joey rolls her eyes. “Please don’t call me that, Sophia. You know I hate it.”
Sophia sighs softly. “Joey, would you like some pancakes?”
“Please,” Joey replies with a sweet smile, which is so obviously fake it makes me want to hurl up my eggs I just ate. When she turns back to me a few seconds later, there is no trace of a smile left.
“Ack! We are out of flour,” Sophia groans. “Let me go check the spare pantry.” She walks out of the room, leaving Joey and me alone.
“So, you sure landed a sweet deal getting to live here with my brother,” she says with an arch of one perfectly manicured eyebrow.
“A sweet deal?” I snap at her. “Are you kidding me?”
