Page 9 of Rescued By the Mafia

Dante inclined his head and turned a hard stare out to the man he didn’t know. He studied the man’s every muscle twitch as he addressed his crew. “Bring him in for a conversation. And for fuck’s sake, make sure he locks up first.” He’d get any information he could out of this guy, and if the guy was just stupid, maybe the guy lived to see the weekend. Maybe.

“You got it, Boss.”

Dante guided Iris away from the scene and the other men around them adjusted their positions to compensate, opening a path to the SUV. He walked Iris around to the rear passenger side, helped her up, and closed her door before making his way back around to his own side. He had one foot in the vehicle when the unknown man finally shouted after him.

“You can’t fuckin’ do this!”

Dante turned a cold stare over his shoulder. “I just did.”

Iris sat quietly in the SUV, trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened. She’d been flustered and yet also comforted when Dante had sent a team of armed men to essentially stand guard around her after her call, none of whom had said a word or spared her a single glance after the initial greeting. She’d thought maybe they were giving her space to compose herself, or were less than thrilled with the silly assignment. But when Dante had arrived she’d realized it was neither of those things.

Those fully grown, visually imposing, armed men had shown deference to Dante. And Dante … she didn’t know how to describe the feelings swirling inside her. She thought maybe, rationally, she should have been scared. She definitely didn’t think he was speaking literally when he said he wanted to have a conversation with the guy from the garage.

But she couldn’t unfeel the strength of his arm around her waist. His arm had been steady, heavy in a reassuring and grounding kind of way. In the same way that his hands had been so gentle on her face only moments before. He’d come right to her, pulled her into his arms like it was the natural thing to do, and comforted her. Prioritized her. He hadn’t cared about the men gathered around them, men who knew him to some degree.

Paul never did that.

Iris squeezed her eyes shut at the stupid, painful thought. Of course her asshole of an ex had never embraced her so warmly in front of others, in front of his own. His feelings had never been genuine.

But she didn’t know what that meant now.

A strong hand curved around hers, slipping under her partially curled fingers. “I don’t mind giving you time to process, Iris. But I don’t intend to let you sink into whatever dark place you’ve carved out for yourself in the recesses of your mind.”

Iris stared at the larger hand holding on to her own. His skin was a little darker than hers, and frankly beautiful with its almost golden hue. She watched herself fully straighten her own fingers, then let them curl around the side of his hand like it was the most natural thing. His thumb stroked over her skin.

She didn’t even realize her breathing had become choppy until it steadied again.

She licked her lips, searching for something. For a safe place to start. And she asked, “Why?”

Something like amusement tinted his voice when he responded. “You’ll have to be more specific, honey. That could apply to several things.”

Warmth tickled the insides of her chest. Iris held a little tighter to his hand. “Why did you call me ‘snapdragon’ earlier?”

This time Dante chuckled. “Did you know snapdragons are also called the ‘dragon’s flower’?”

Iris finally dragged her stare away from their hands and looked over at him, only to shake her head. “No, I—” She stopped herself, an old memory resurfacing. “Actually, I have heard that before. A long time ago.” A lifetime ago.

He smiled at her. Not a wide, toothy grin or a cocky smirk, but a soft, warm smile that turned his cool blue eyes into steaming hot springs and made a responding heat rush through her. If he could make a face like that, when his earlier scowl had looked so natural on his lips, then Dante De Salvo might be a god among men.

He threaded his fingers with hers as her mind spiraled and said, “You are the flower to my dragon.” Now a grin did tip his lips, and the warmth inside her shifted accordingly. “Which makes you my snapdragon. And if anyone else calls you that, I’ll put a bullet in his head.”

Iris felt her lips lift in a smile she couldn’t explain. “I don’t think most people decide on pet names for someone after only meeting them once.”

Dante slid closer, until their shoulders touched, and brought her hand to his lips. He let the contact linger, never breaking eye-contact, and quietly said, “I’m not most people, Iris.”

That was the second time. The second time he’d kissed her without kissing her. It was so weirdly respectful, especially considering that she was coming to suspect he was in fact actually the opposite kind of man her ex had been. Professionally. Dante’s threats of violence did not feel like mere posturing.

Her own thoughts struck her upside the head and Iris gasped out loud. The opposite kind of man… That was exactly what she needed.

“Iris?”

She kept her fingers curled around his and searched his frowning gaze. “Dante, can I… Can I trust you?”

He arched a brow. “This seems like a strange time to be asking that question.”

She pushed the words out before her brain could catch on them. “My ex was a—”

“I know what he was.” Dante leaned forward and caught her chin between thumb and forefinger, holding her stare captive as he all but pinned her into the seat. “I swear to you, Iris, I am nothing like him.”

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