Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I can’t help but notice how mouthwateringly sexy that look is on him. Dante is a man who’s always in control, and his usual immaculate appearance reflects that quality. His unshakable character and iron will are the traits that make him so successful in his job and as a leader. His single-minded dedication to his tasks has always been widely admired. Leander used to be jealous of the compliments Dante got. Once Dante has decided what he wants, he chases it mercilessly. He acts without scruples when it’s necessary. He’s not afraid of judgement. The strategist in him knows exactly how to fight a war to win. Losing isn’t a word that exists in his vocabulary.
To win is one thing, but staying at the top takes courage and intelligence. The price is often paid in blood. Men like him learn to sleep with one eye open. His vigilance is indispensable for survival.
There’s no doubt that his strengths make him a dangerous opponent. But they also prevent him from relaxing and letting go. At moments like these, he’s just ruffled enough to remind me that for all his godlike qualities, he’s still human.
My hands itch to be buried in his hair. I long to fix it. A deep-seated need compels me to solve all his problems. “Tough day?”
“It comes with the territory.”
I want to ask if he wants to talk about it, but under the circumstances, I’m probably the last person he can trust with illegal business. I never contemplated the web of problems that would accompany my memory loss. My husband can’t confide in me if my mind is broken.
“Come on a date with me,” he says out of the blue, jolting me from the direction my thoughts have taken.
A date? I always considered dating something couples do before they get married. When the chase is over and the initial thrill wears off, going out grows into something different. The wooing and courting turn into investing time to solidify a relationship. Or, in certain cases, it may be a shot at rekindling a dying flame.
I stare at him. “Why?”
He watches me with a serious light burning in his eyes. “We’ve never been on one.”
My lips part. It takes me a moment to gather myself before I can speak. “We’ve been on plenty of dates.” I hasten to back that up with evidence suggesting that I haven’t lost that part of my memory. “Picnics, movies, restaurants… Walks in the park.”
“Those don’t count. We were sneaking around.” He removes his hand from his pocket and straightens. “I want to show you off. I want to go out with my wife in the open. You don’t have to worry about security. I’ll keep you safe.”
I’m not sure if I should be flattered or worried. I’m tempted to go with the first, which insinuates that my hot-as-sin husband still wants to date me, but I’m too realistic to ignore what the invitation truly means. Just how estranged have we been?
He steps right up to me, forcing me to crane my neck to hold his gaze.
His words are charged, his quiet urgency crackling like static electricity in the air between us. “Do you want me to beg?”
I shake my head. “I just…I…” I bite my lip. “I don’t understand.”
This time, he doesn’t manage to keep up the casual pose or the relaxed attitude. When he smiles again, the strained gesture gives away his tenseness. “One date.”
His eyes are hypnotizing. Looking into them leaves me breathless. There’s so much emotion in their depths, yet so little he wants to show me. “What about Noah? I don’t want to let him stay with a babysitter so soon after my disappearance. He still has nightmares about it.”
He takes the mug from my hands and puts it a safe distance away before leaning his hands on the counter on either side of my body and caging me in between his arms. “Are you asking me to wait?”
Bending backward, I escape his unsettling proximity. “Wait for what?”
“For you.”
“We’re married,” I whisper.
For some reason, my answer doesn’t appease him. “I waited, Tatiana. You have no fucking idea.”
I place a hand over his heart, letting the steady beat ground me as my confusion grows. “Dante.”
A switch flips inside him. I see it in the darkening of his eyes and in the heat that makes the golden flecks in his irises leap like flames.
He studies me with that intense gaze, a dark promise riding on his statement. “Don’t make me wait longer.”
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but the question freezes on my lips when he reaches for the belt of my bathrobe and pulls on one end, slowly untying the bow. He concentrates on the work of his hands as he brushes the robe open unhurriedly, unwrapping me like a long-awaited gift.