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Just to ease my mind, I turn around once more. When everything seems fine, I shake my head and start for the kitchen again only to stop dead in my tracks, my head slowly swivelling to the glass pane between the entry hall and the courtyard.
The lit up pool looks still and quiet, steam rising off the surface, unbroken by movements, despite the dark blob in the middle. The blob with dark hair strands floating around it.
“No,” I gasp, choking on the lump in my throat. “No, no, no, no, no! Don’t you fucking dare!”
I run straight through the glass pane. My mind having made the decision to get to the pool as fast as possible and calculating the way around and through the gym, not being optimal.
Because Alessa is in the pool. Not moving.
Alessa, who can’t swim.
MyAlessa.
I can’t even feel the shards of glass clinging to my skin or the cuts on my arms and face as I dive straight into the pool and swim to where Alessa’s lifeless body is crumpled on the bottom of the pool.
Like an arrow, I shoot through the water until I’m behind her. My arms reach around her waist and lift her up as I bounce off the bottom and push us both to the surface.
But then Alessa grasps my arms, digging her nails into my skin as she starts to wriggle against my grip.
“What the fuck?” she spatters as we break the surface.
“I could ask you the same. I thought you were dead.”
She wriggles again, and I loosen my grip only to allow her enough room so she could face me.
“Dante,” she whispers, her eyes searching mine, roaming over my face. “You’re back. Where were you? What happened to your face?”
“I thought you drowned, Alessa,” I grit through my teeth. “Why the fuck were you in the pool? I know you can’t swim.”
“Angelo is such a tattletale,” she grumbles before rolling her eyes, and I want to spank her until her ass is red. My arms tighten around her body, pulling her closer as I tread the water towards the steps out. Her legs instantly wrap around my middle, and I shift her up, one hand supporting her backside.
That’s when I realise. Or rather, my dick does.
Alessa is completely naked.
31
ALESSA
Ican’t believe he’s here. Holding me so close it’s hard to tell where I end, and he begins. I try to remember why I was angry with him in the first place, but he’s covered in bleeding cuts, and there’s a small piece of glass coming out of his shoulder. It’s all I can focus on. He’s here. And he’s hurt. I gently place my fingers against his cheek, right below a gash that’s seeping blood, frowning at the amount of abrasions on his face, neck and arms.
“Why are you naked?” His growl is quiet, but despite the tornado of thoughts in my head, I hear him just fine. My cheeks burn hot because I just remembered what I was doing the moment he pulled me from underwater and scared the living daylight out of me. When I don’t reply, his arm tightens around me, and the hand holding up my butt digs into my wet flesh. My skin erupts in goose pimples, the emptiness in my core pulsating full force—stronger than ever, now that Dante is back—and it takes immense power not to rock against him and moan with neediness.
Because that’s what it is. I need him. I want him. But I also want to know what the hell happened to him.
“Why are you covered in cuts?”
His eyes close, irritation raising his nostrils as he inhales. “I thought you were dead, Alessa. I saw your body on the bottom of the pool and… I thought you were fucking d—ead.” His voice breaks on the last word.
“I’m okay.” I hold on to him tighter, hoping my touch reassures him. “I was just holding my breath.”
“Why? Why would you—”
“It’s stupid,” I interrupt, hiding my head in the crook of his neck.
“Tell me.” His fingers dig into my bum harder, almost breaking the skin. But the pain actually feels good. So good the butterflies in my stomach take off again, and I have to hold back a moan.
“Let me clean your wounds first, then I’ll tell you,” I soothe in a raspy voice, hoping it’ll distract him from wanting answers.
