Page 13 of Rescued By the Mafia

He didn’t blink. “How much would help you shake that feeling and start to trust this? 500,000? One million?”

Iris blanched. “I think most people would feel comfortable with one million.” Her arms moved without direction, reflecting her frazzled state of mind. “I don’t understand what you mean. Why are you talking like you’re going to just hand over that insane amount of money?”

His attention dropped to the screen of his phone. “That much is nothing,” he said. “But we will have to do it in increments to keep the bank from locking your account and insisting on an investigation. I’ll have Mikey wire it over in installments of 100,000 every two weeks until you get the total. Once that’s down to an amount your community bank can pay out in cash, I’d recommend withdrawing it and cancelling the account. We’ll move you over to my bank. They’re more comfortable with larger sums of money and I have a relationship with them. It’ll be easier to add you to my own accounts in the future.”

Iris latched on to his arm as his thumb started to move, not really trying to take the phone away but hoping to stall him all the same. “Wait! You can’t just casually hand over one million dollars, that’s way too much!”

His thumb stilled and Dante arched a brow. “I thought you needed money?”

Her fingers dug into his arm. He really thought she would just stand back and let him pay her off? “I feel like you’re trying to buy me. I’m not some kind of escort.” She nearly snorted at the statement. She wouldn’t qualify as a back-alley prostitute, let alone a high-end escort, but she doubted very much a man like Dante would consider less than the most elite.

His frown returned. Dante tossed the phone in the direction of the bed, not bothering to look, and lowered his hand to her hip. He stalked forward without releasing her, forcing her to stumble backward until she finally stumbled into the wall. Her heart was racing a mile a minute and she felt as though her lungs had shrunk to the size of raisins, yet the sensations coursing through her weren’t the same as fear. As her hands curled in his suit coat and she craned her neck to hold his narrowed stare, Iris felt her body reacting in a very different way.

She was hot. And she had the strongest urge—the need—to squirm in place.

Dante hauled her up with his hands on her hips, until she was eye-level with him, and slipped a knee between hers. Her feet weren’t touching the floor and he didn’t look as if he were struggling in the least, and the next thing Iris knew, she’d curled her legs around him. In the interest of helping him hold her up. Absolutely not out of any need or desire to have him closer, to feel the pressure of his rising erection pushing against her. Definitely not that.

Dante exhaled roughly, leaning close enough that his breath rushed along her exposed skin. “You’re right,” he said. “I won’t wire you money. That sends the wrong message, and the last thing I want is to make you feel dirty about this.”

Iris slid her hands up to his shoulders, her fingers suddenly itching to dive into his thick brown hair. But her heart was back in the lead and she was flustered again. She hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He tipped his head closer, as if he were going to kiss her for real this time, but angled his face away at the last moment and brushed her jaw with his nose. His voice was half groan when he spoke again. “I’ll make time tomorrow and we’ll go down to my bank. I’ll put your name on my personal account.”

Iris jolted, her head jerking back the inch or so that remained and connecting with the wall as her fingers and legs gripped him tighter. “What?” She meant to add more. She should have said more—should have explained that hadn’t been her point—but she was breathless. Too stunned to speak.

Dante lowered his head and his lips grazed her throat in a feather light kiss. “You’ll have access to all of it. More than enough to make you comfortable.”

“That’s—” Iris couldn’t think straight, her body making demands that wholly contradicted the arguments in her head, neither of which were in line with the fluttering of her heart. Even breathing was hard. “Why?”

Dante lifted his head, his nose touching hers, and said, “Because you are mine.”

Iris moved her hands to lightly frame his jaw, her head spinning. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

He grunted and slammed his lips to hers, capturing them completely in his kiss. It was chaste only for a second before his tongue pushed into her mouth, demanding and delivering all at once.

Iris whimpered against him, her hands finally slipping into his hair as she kissed him back. Her body burned in a way she hadn’t felt in far too long. Perhaps ever. She’d certainly never been kissed with such a ferocious hunger. His kiss was all-consuming, demanding, and yet somehow like the greatest relief.

She could taste his want. She could feel the sincerity of his need.

It was the last revelation she needed to let herself let go.

Dante took a half-step from the wall, wound an arm around her waist, and wedged his other hand into her hair to hold her in place. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and rocked his hips against hers until both of them were moaning into the kiss.

The buzzing of his phone echoed like a reverberating drum in the otherwise silent room.

Dante broke the kiss with a low growl and turned, lowering a hand to her ass instead of releasing her. He stalked closer to the buzzing sound and Iris found herself being lowered gently onto the mattress. Dante didn’t reach for the offending device until she was seated, and he took only a single step away. “What?”

Iris sucked in stabilizing breaths, watching him on the phone as she realized what had just happened. And how her body still felt about it.

She’d never imagined even considering intimacy again, yet now she yearned for it. No. Not for intimacy in general. For intimacy with Dante. For more of what they’d started.

“Of course. Thank you.” Dante lowered the phone and blew out a breath. “Fuck.”

Iris blinked up at him, watching as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Is something wrong?”

He tucked his phone away and faced her, a strained smile lifting his lips for a brief second. “My mother’s here.”

Dante led the way into the main sitting room, Iris trailing behind him and somehow seeming more flustered than he ought to have been. But the idea of his mother catching him in a compromising position for the first time in close to fifteen years was more than enough to get his blood under control. Temporarily. All he had to do to keep it that way was not think about the taste of Iris that lingered on his tongue.

---