Page 95 of Ruthless Desire

The impact knocks the breath from my lungs. Icy water floods the cabin, shocking me back to awareness. Dante's already moving, kicking out the shattered window.

"Can you swim?" he asks, his voice urgent.

I nod, too dazed to speak. He grabs my hand, pulling me towards the opening. "Deep breath," he commands. "On three. One, two–"

We plunge into the Mediterranean, the cold stealing what little air I managed to gulp down. Dante's hand is an iron grip around mine as we kick towards the surface. My lungs burn, spots dancing at the edge of my vision.

Just when I think I can't hold on any longer, we break through. I gasp, sucking in great lungfuls of salty air. Dante treads water beside me, his eyes scanning the horizon.

"There," he says, pointing to a small island in the distance. "We need to move. Now."

I nod, forcing my exhausted limbs into motion. We swim side by side, the sound of our labored breathing the only thing breaking the eerie silence. No sign of our pursuers, but that doesn't mean they've given up.

By the time we drag ourselves onto the rocky shore, every muscle in my body is screaming. I collapse onto the rough sand, panting. Dante stands over me, his expression grim as he surveys our surroundings.

"We can't stay here long," he says. "They'll be looking for bodies."

I struggle to sit up, wincing at the myriad of cuts and bruises making themselves known. "And go where, exactly? In case you haven't noticed, we're kind of stuck."

Dante's lips quirk in a humorless smile. "You underestimate me, solnyshko. I always have a backup plan."

He pulls a waterproof bag from inside his jacket – how the hell did that survive the crash? – and retrieves a satellite phone. As he punches in a series of numbers, I take stock of our situation.

We're alive, which is more than I expected a few minutes ago. But we're also alone, cut off from Dante's resources and men. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, we're on somewhat even footing.

Dante's voice pulls me from my plotting. "Enzo? Yeah, it's me. We need an extraction. Sending coordinates now." He pauses, listening. "No, just me and Natalie. The others... didn't make it."

A pang of guilt hits me at the reminder of the lives lost today. How many more will die before this is over?

Dante ends the call, turning back to me. "Help's on the way. Should be here within the hour."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving me shaky and nauseous. Dante must notice, because his expression softens slightly.

"Come here," he says, holding out his hand. "Let me take a look at you."

Part of me wants to refuse, to maintain what little distance I can. But exhaustion wins out. I let him pull me to my feet, steadying myself against his solid frame.

His hands are surprisingly gentle as they move over me, checking for injuries. When he reaches a particularly nasty gash on my arm, I can't hold back a hiss of pain.

"Sorry, solnyshko," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "I'll be more careful."

I look up, startled by the tenderness in his voice. Our eyes lock, and suddenly I'm acutely aware of how close we are. Of the heat radiating from his body, the way his wet clothes cling to every hard plane of muscle.

Dante's gaze darkens, his pupils dilating with unmistakable hunger. "Natalie," he growls, my name a warning on his lips.

I should pull away. I should run, put as much distance between us as I can. But my traitorous body has other ideas.

Instead, I lean forward, crushing my mouth to his. Dante responds instantly, one hand tangling in my wet hair as the other grips my hip, pulling me flush against him. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongue and pent-up need.

I pour everything into it – my fear, my anger, my confusion. Dante takes it all, giving back just as fiercely. His hands roam my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I arch into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck," Dante pants when we finally break apart. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

I can't help the breathless laugh that escapes me. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you."

His answering grin is wicked, full of dark promise. "Oh, solnyshko. I'm just getting started."

Before I can process what's happening, Dante has me pinned against a nearby boulder. His mouth is hot on my neck, biting and sucking marks into my skin. I should be outraged at this blatant claiming, but all I can do is moan, my hips grinding shamelessly against his.

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