Page 88 of Hearts Of Darkness

“It’s okay, Anna,” I say, forcing another smile for her. “You go ahead. Sebastian can walk me to a cab.”

“Only if you’re sure…” She shoots another worried glance in Dante’s direction.

“I am. Go… Have fun,” I urge her, sliding my gaze to Manuel. There are too many loaded looks happening around here.

He gets the gist right away. “Come,” he says, taking my friend’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for this dance all evening.”

This seals the deal with her super-quick. And then, there’s just us. Alone again. With my pulse rate climbing to crazy levels and nervous sweat trickling between my shoulder blades.

“Aren’t you going to look at me, my angel?” he murmurs. “Aren’t you going to give me the benefit of that divine face?” I turn slowly to his sharp intake of breath. “There she is…” Hetips my chin up to stab me a million times over with those unforgiving dark eyes. “The light to all my wicked and sin.”

There’s a hint of mockery in his voice, and an inherent truth there, too. He clearly wants to revel in our disparities tonight, and a shiver of uneasiness courses through me.

He’s even more mesmeric than I remembered. The bruises are gone, and there’s a fading scar on his forehead where the red weal used to be. He’s wearing a black three-piece with a crisp white dress shirt and a black tie that’s been loosened at the neck.

I can’t tear my eyes away from his broad shoulders and tapered waist, and the long muscular length of his thighs. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans or his army gear but,my God,this man was born to wear a suit.

He smells fresh and clean, like he’s recently taken a shower, but there’s another scent lingering on his skin and it’s one I can’t place.

I watch his eye line drop to my outfit and a slight frown appears. “Come,” he snaps, taking my arm and leading me toward the exit. “Let’s find somewhere more discreet, shall we?”

He’s commanding everyone’s attention as we leave the club, which only serves to highlight our disparities more. Tall and elegant, his walk is a compelling swagger of power and ownership. He’s a king in this world, and I’m barely a footnote.

He steers me toward an idling SUV with blacked-out windows. I recognize it immediately.

“Is that—”

“Yes.”

It’s the same car from the nightwe first met. The same night he took me, bound my body to his for eternity, and then walked away.

I remember my fear when he forced me onto the backseat, how his fingers felt around my neck, the first pangs of lust as he loomed large and threatening over me… He opens the door, and this time I go willingly.

“Hello again, Miss Miller,” mutters Joseph from the driver’s seat.

“Less talking, more driving,” Dante snaps, sliding in next to me. “I spoke with Sanders. The deal is on.”

What deal?

I know better than to ask. He’s got that primal ‘fresh from the kill’ look about him again, and he’s giving off warning signals in all directions.

He turns to scowl at me as I dare to inch away, but there’s no move to yank me back to his side. After six weeks apart, I’m desperate to taste his dark, but I’m too scared to initiate it. Whatever he’s brooding on is pushing him beyond the limits of his control. If I touch him, I know he’ll hurt me.

The car pulls away from the curb. He’s gazing out of the window, his elbow resting on the lip of the door, his chin slotted between his forefinger and his thumb. There’s a fist clenched in his lap.What the hell is going on?

The edgy silence persists, peppered only by the whirr of the engine and the swipe of the wiper blades as a light summer shower mottles the glass.

We pull up to a gated mansion near the waterfront. As we exit the vehicle, he plants a hand on my lower back and practically shoves me up the front steps and into the property. There are at least twenty armed men stationed around the houseand Joseph, like always, is following us in silent pursuit. He peels off once we’re inside and disappears through an open door to the left.

“Get upstairs,” Dante snaps, barely looking at me as I stand there shivering in his hallway. The lack of furniture and the empty walls are reflecting his present mood. Nothing in here is offering me any warmth.

I watch him walk through an archway and into the adjacent living area.

“I don’t ask twice, Eve.” His threat floats out to me from the darkness.

“And I don’t jump to your every goddamn command,” I say, storming into the room after him. The furniture in here is practically non-existent. My angry voice reverberates around the huge empty space, sounding weaker and more fragile with every passing echo.

He turns to face me, and I instantly regret my words. His dark eyes are devoid of emotion. His face is an unnerving mask of calm. “If you insist on wearing outfits likethat,I’ll treat you with what little respect you deserve,” he says coldly.

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