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Perfect. The quicker I get a job, the quicker I stop burning through the cash I stole from my husband. “Sounds good.”
“I’ll need a copy of your ID. Follow me.” He walks into the back of his church to the office where we obliterated the rules yesterday. Heat filters through my body as memories of what happened come rushing back. I shiver, but not from the cold.
“Here,” I say, pulling out the ID I had created for my new identity. “Can you copy it quick? I’ve got to get going, or I’ll be late.”
His jaw clenches as he puts it in the copier and takes a photocopy. Once finished, he turns to me and holds it out of my reach. “I don’t want you going out looking like that.”
“Too bad, I’m going.” I sigh. “It’s been so long since I had a night out. I need this.”
He narrows his eyes and grabs me again, this time more forcefully, as my body crashes into his. “Remember who you belong to, Madison,” he says, and before I can protest, he kisses me, a rough, claiming kiss that leaves me breathless.
He pulls back, and his dark eyes are burning with fierce possession. “Remember who owns you, or you won’t like what happens to the man who dares approach you,” he whispers.
A shudder races through me. I’ve got no idea what kind of man I’m dealing with. How dark and dangerous is he? He’s hiding behind the cloth, acting like a man of God to the public, but when we’re alone, there’s nothing holy about him.
“What happens to him, Dante?” I ask.
He’s silent momentarily, his eyes studying me, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air. And then he smirks. “Let’s just say he’ll wish he hadn’t crossed me.”
It’s wrong how wet his dominant, possessive nature gets me. The difference between him and Eric is that Dante is a real man. Eric wouldn’t waste his breath if anyone put their hands on me. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is appearances.
“Okay,” I breathe.
“Good girl,” he praises, releasing me and passing me my ID. “And where exactly is this ‘night out’?”
I feel a shiver run down my spine. “Why do you want to know?”
His stare is unwavering. “Which bar, Madison?”
“I’m meeting them at The Raven,” I stammer, wondering what made me divulge the information.
“The Raven,” he repeats, stepping back. “Don’t be late, Madison. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your new friends.”
I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I turn to walk out of his office. Suddenly, the prospect of a night out seems a lot less appealing. Even so, I’m about to leave the office when his voice stops me.
“Hold on.”
I glance at him over my shoulder.
“How are you getting to town? I noticed you don’t have a car.”
“Walking,” I say simply.
“Over my dead body.” He grabs his keys off the desk. “I’ll drive you.”
“That’s not?—”
“There’s no question about it,” he growls, grabbing his coat and shrugging it on over his clerical shirt. “Car now.”
I sigh and lead the way out of the church, painfully aware of how close this God of a man is. He unlocks his Honda Civic. A car that doesn’t suit him in appearance. I imagine him riding a motorcycle in another life or driving an old mustang.
“What are you staring at, Madison? Get in the car.”
I shake my head, trying to get out of my head as I sit in the passenger’s seat, crossing my arms over my chest and glancing out of the window.
The air is tense as the engine comes to life, and Dante pulls onto the main road into town.
The silence in the car is deafening as we drive. “Are you sulking?” he asks.
