Page 8 of Claimed By the Don

I swallow hard past the sudden lump in my throat. "I don't know if I'm that brave, Nat."

"Well, I do." She smiles at me, her hazel eyes soft. "You're the strongest, most badass woman I know, Ginetta Moretti. If anyone has the ovaries to go after what she wants, it's you." Natalie waggles her eyebrows again. "Or should I say who she wants."

A surprised giggle escapes me and just like that, the heavy mood lifts. I sit up and hug my best friend fiercely, beyond grateful for her steadfast faith in me.

When we pull back, Natalie grins and reaches for the bottle of wine she brought. "Now, I want to hear all about your sexcapades with tall, dark and dangerous. Don't leave out a single dirty detail." She waggles her eyebrows lasciviously.

Laughing despite my lingering inner turmoil, I let Nat pour me a liberal glass of Malbec and settle in to dish about my growing feelings for the complicated, captivating man who's determined to claim me, body and soul.

As we sip and giggle, trading dating war stories, my mind keeps circling back to Dante. His wicked smile, the heat of his hands, the way he looks at me like I'm the only woman in the world.

I know Natalie is right - the depth of emotion and desire he stirs in me is rare. Precious. Probably a once-in-a-lifetime kind of connection. Am I really going to let my fears keep me from exploring this incredible thing between us?

The more I let myself dream of being with Dante - really being with him, no holds barred - the more I ache for it. Deep in my bones, with a fierce longing that scares and arouses me in equal measure. No man has ever made me feel this intensely before and we've barely scratched the surface of what we could be together.

God, I want him. Want to get lost in the raw passion he ignites in my veins; to surrender to the heated promise in his eyes and let him shatter me into a million blissed-out pieces.

But even as I tremble with budding resolve to throw caution to the wind and leap into Dante's arms...I can't quite silence the whispers of uncertainty. The trepidation that falling for this powerful, magnetic man will change me irrevocably. Consume everything I am in the wildfire of his wants and needs.

Can I trust Dante with my heart the way I long to trust him with my body? Or will I just be another conquest for the seasoned playboy who's surely had more than his share of female attention?

There are no easy answers and my wine-soaked mind is too hazy to puzzle it out further tonight. So I hug Natalie goodbye and tumble into bed, still aching and restless. As I drift off, it's to the lingering feel of Dante's scorching mouth on mine...and the knowledge that one way or another, this maddening, impossible man is going to be my blissful undoing.

I can only pray I survive the fall.

Chapter FOUR

Dante

––––––––

"Boss, we got a problem."

I close my eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. Enzo's gravelly voice crackles through the phone pressed to my ear, announcing the arrival of yet another clusterfuck to derail my carefully laid plans.

"What now?" I ask wearily, leaning back in my leather desk chair.

"Gallo's crew. They hit up one of our warehouses down by the docks last night. Roughed up a couple of guys, made off with a shipment. Looks like our friend Antonio is stepping up his game."

Fuck. I feel the news like a lead weight in my gut, cold and heavy. The noose is tightening, Gallo's boldness growing by the day. It won't be long before we're in a full-out war, blood running in the streets.

All because that greedy prick can't be satisfied with his own slice of the pie.

"Send Luca and Gio to do some damage control," I order, my voice hard. "Make it clear to our people that the Russos aren't to be fucked with. Increase security on all our holdings. I want round-the-clock surveillance, armed guards, the whole nine."

"You got it, boss."

I end the call and toss my phone onto the broad expanse of my desk, frustration buzzing like hornets in my veins. This is the last fucking thing I need right now. Not with the delicate tightrope I'm walking, trying to transition my family's business dealings into something approaching legitimacy. Trying to build an empire I can one day pass down to my children without the taint of blood and bullets.

Children. The word sends a strange pang through my chest. An image flashes unbidden through my mind - a little girl with quicksilver eyes and an impish smile. Raven curls an unruly riot around a cherubic face. A perfect blend of me...and her mother.

Ginetta.

Just the thought of my inamorata, my beloved, soothes some of the jagged edges of my temper. The simmering heat in my blood shifts, sharpens into a sweeter ache. I lean back in my chair and let visions of Ginetta flood my mind's eye. The graceful line of her throat, the decadent curves and valleys of her lush body. The sleepy, satisfied sprawl of her in my bed, skin glowing in the light of dawn.

Christ, she consumes me. Invades every corner of my mind until I'm drunk on her, a man possessed. Nothing else seems quite real when I'm not with her, the rest of the world gone soft and hazy at the edges. All that exists is the silken heat of her gaze on my face.

As if conjured, my phone screen lights up with a text from the woman herself. My lips quirk as I read the cheeky message.

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