Page 10 of Rescued By the Mafia

Whatever part of her was still capable of the feeling fell in love with Dante in that moment. Because she believed him.

Despite that he was leaning into her space, despite that her every breath carried his scent, and even despite the stern look on his face, Iris did not feel threatened. She felt inexplicably safe. This intense, mountain of a man was offering her protection.

Iris dipped her head and pressed her lips to the side of his finger. Then she met his gaze again as he eased back, allowing her room to breathe. Allowing her room to think. “I suppose I would be remiss if I didn’t also ask why—why you’re doing this for me? Why go out of your way at all?”

Dante stared at her for a second, as if deciding the best way to answer. His thumb stroked again over the back of her hand. “Because I’ve decided to make you mine,” he finally said. “Which means I will always show up for you.” His grip tightened slightly. “It also means you’re protected. No one fucks with what’s mine and walks away.”

Her heart stumbled and Iris was sure her nails were digging into his skin, but she couldn’t break his stare. “What do I … owe you for all of that?” She wanted it. She wanted what he offered. But she’d worked so hard to get away from her last cage. There had to be limits.

Dante blinked at her. “Owe me?” His brow furrowed for a second, but then his expression smoothed over again. “This isn’t that kind of relationship, Snapdragon. You’ll see. I understand you’re hesitant to trust right now, hesitant to let someone new in. For you, I’ll be patient. The only thing I’ll ask of you now is an open mind.”

She hesitated to believe it could be so easy. It didn’t seem realistic to think she’d come into this one singular stroke of astoundingly good luck. Yet, at the same time, she felt as though he were speaking the truth. Still, surely there were boundaries somewhere. Things she couldn’t know. Places she couldn’t go. Forbidden rooms…

Iris swallowed and shoved down the image of the perpetually locked door. “What if I have questions?” She let her gaze roam, as if finally seeing more than Dante’s face and their clasped hands. She saw how close he sat, his larger thigh a mere inch from her own. She saw the two figures in the front of the vehicle, sitting upright and facing forward almost stiffly. She saw it all in seconds before her focus returned to Dante as if he were a magnet drawing her in. “Would you tell me, if I asked about things in your life?” The question felt too bold and heat rushed to Iris’s face. But she didn’t try to take it back.

His smile returned, and again it reassured her. “I’m not a fan of Twenty Questions,” he said, “but if we’re having a conversation or if a situation has come to your attention and you want to better understand it, I’ll explain anything you need.” He reached out with his free hand again and brushed his thumb across her cheek in a light, breath-stealing caress. “However, if you’re asking simply for self-education’s sake, that might be a circumstance where I insist on a little quid pro quo.”

Her eyes widened.

Dante chuckled. “Dirty girl,” he teased. “I was talking a trade of information. I tell you a little about me, you tell me a little about you. A mutual exchange of information.” He leaned closer and angled his head to let his lips graze the shell of her ear. “Of course, you’ll come to me for your other needs, too.” He dipped his head slightly lower and dragged in a breath that rushed along her skin and sent a shiver of undeniable anticipation down her spine. “When you’re ready.”

An echo of a feeling Iris hadn’t experienced in years washed through her and she found herself distinctly disappointed when he straightened. She wanted to do more than hold his hand. She wanted to feel his lips for more than a moment, in more intimate places.

It was a realization that was so startling the shock knocked the breath from her.

Dante grunted, the sound distinctly irritated, and shifted in his seat. He pulled his phone from a pocket and glared at the screen. “I have to take this, Snapdragon.” He slid back to his vacated seat as he brought the phone to his ear, but he didn’t release her hand. Instead, their hands rested on the middle space between them, like a bridge keeping them connected.

Iris shifted in her seat and slowly ran her gaze up his profile as he talked on the phone in curt words. He was a large man; she’d known that since the night in the restaurant. He easily stood a foot above her, so he filled out the space in the cabin of the SUV much more than she did. Particularly with his muscular frame.

“Those motherfuckers are playing games with us,” Dante snapped. “Find out who’s running their shitshow and get names and locations on every goddamn person they care about. I’m only going to talk to these morons once, and when I do, they’re going to understand I don’t play.” He pulled the phone from his ear as his thumb jabbed the screen, his chest rising with a deep breath.

Iris watched him, replaying his short conversation. She kept her eyes on him as she gauged her internal reaction. It was surprisingly clear.

The opposite kind of man.

If she was sure of anything about Dante, it was that he was not hiding behind a badge. He was not pretending to be some upstanding, charming, peacekeeping guy-next-door. She’d thought she’d sworn off the very concept of romance, and certainly subjecting herself to the attentions of men, but she’d misjudged. What she wanted nothing to do with was the down-home, law-abiding, too-perfect gentleman.

Iris adjusted enough to face him better, careful not to dislodge their hands. “You’re not some undercover government guy, are you?”

He actually looked caught off-guard by the question.

In the silence that held for the next handful of seconds, Iris was almost certain she heard one of the men upfront snort.

Dante slid a glare forward for a quick second, then met her stare again. “No, Iris. I’m about as far removed from a badge as a free man gets.”

She offered him what she hoped looked more like a grin. “I was just trying to find the catch.”

His grin was definitely more effective. “The catch?” The SUV rolled to a stop and Dante finally uncurled his fingers from hers in order to release her seatbelt. “The catch, Snapdragon, is the addiction.”

Iris didn’t know what she’d expected to see when she stepped clear of the SUV, but a large mansion of a home, covered in old-fashioned stonework, was not it. Yet there it was, practically obscuring the sky.

Dante offered her his arm. “Normally the car will take us all the way into the garage,” he said. “I thought for your first time, you might like to see it from the front.”

She could barely look away. She’d never been one for architecture, but it didn’t take a specialist to see the beauty in front of her. She curled her arm around his in search of stability, her voice quiet again. “Is this your home?” That seemed like a stupid question, but at the same time, if he told her it was a museum or an art studio, she could believe it.

“No.” Dante started up the front steps, encouraging her to move with him. “Starting today, this is our home.”

Her knees threatened to buckle and Iris held tighter to him. “What?”

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