Page 36 of Reckless Sinner

Dante glanced around dismissively. “You got that right.”

I decided to take a risk. “But this isn’t your space.”

Dante’s dark gaze flew to meet mine. I raised an eyebrow and sat up properly so that we were on the same level. “Nothing in here matches what you like. It’s not your style. It’s so stereotypically… high-powered Manhattan lawyer that I could probably open any magazine and bam, there would be an identical-looking apartment.”

Dante stared at me for a moment. I expected him to look wary, but instead he seemed… impressed. There was a gleam in his eye that seemed proud, almost.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I hired a designer to do up this place and it doesn’t really have anything of… me in it. It’s never felt like a home, really.”

“Why?”

“I really shouldn’t be telling you this,” Dante replied, and my heart leapt. This was the sort of thing that I could report to my father, this was the sort of thing that I could use…

And then my heart sped up. How could I share anything with my father that Dante had told me here, in his bed, in a place of vulnerability and safety? Could I really betray his trust?

“I was just waiting for the day that I would be told by someone that my number was up.” Dante shrugged. “Either my father would tell me it was time for me to prove my loyalty to the family after all, or it would be a boss or some other lawyer making it clear I didn’t belong here and they were done with me in their midst.” He gestured around us, a bit bitterly. “None of this has ever felt permanent.”

Even at home, he couldn’t be himself. He had no place to really callhis. It was still all about his family and the expectations of society.

Would we ever come to a place where either of us could really find out who we were, and be who we wanted to be?

“I’ve always felt the opposite,” I replied. It felt only fair to exchange something, to keep the vulnerabilities equal. “Like everything in my life is too permanent, all the same, and nothing will ever change. It’s claustrophobic.”

The corner of Dante’s mouth twisted up in a bitter half-smile. “I get that.”

“I really didn’t intend to come here and have it all be sad shit,” I admitted. It felt thrilling to swear around Dante. My father was forever telling me to watch my language. Swearing made you seem less educated and less sophisticated.

But Dante liked when my claws came out a little, so I thought… he’d like it if I let go a little and swore. I feltnaughtydoing it, and wasn’t that a sign of how pathetic my life was?

Maybe Dante had a point about my father. Maybe there were some things I needed to re-examine about my life.

Dante chuckled. “Sometimes that happens.” He paused and looked at me. His gaze was soft but intense at the same time, and I found I couldn’t tear my own gaze away. “I’m glad that you feel you can trust me. Be… open around me.”

I felt horrible. My stomach twisted with a nauseating tightness. I was lying to Dante, betraying him… even if I hadn’t learned anything too damning yet, I was a snake in his garden, the enemy he didn’t even know he had.

I scrambled for some way to escape this feeling. “Well, you’re easy to be open around. I’ve already said it—but—you’re not what everyone thinks you are or what everyone wants you to be. I like you just how you are.”

“I like who you are.” Dante paused ever so slightly before adding, “Who youreallyare.”

My throat was terribly dry. I swallowed. “Well, perhaps I could… help make up for crying on you and taking over your bed without asking.”

Dante tilted his head a little, and I wondered if it was too obvious that I was changing the subject. Instead he said, “You don’t owe me anything, Delaney.”

For someone who was so worried about the darkness he felt in himself, he really was such a gentleman, so worried about my personal agency. I appreciated it—but found the dissonance between who he really was and how he viewed himself to be frustrating. I wished he’d give himself more credit.

“This isn’t about what I owe you. I don’t think of it that way.” I moved in, putting my hand on his chest. God, it was so firm, steady. Warm. I felt like I could touch him for hours, days, mapping him out and it would never be enough.

“This is about what I want. This is… I want you and I want to… have fun with you. Not just dump my emotions on you.” I smiled tentatively at him, feeling bashful and bold at the same time.

Dante smiled slowly. “Well. If that’s really how you feel… it would be rude of me to deny a lady, wouldn’t it?”

He added a bit of a drawl to it, making it sound terribly old-fashioned, and I laughed. “It would be incredibly rude.”

I trailed my fingertips up and down his chest, teasing him, looking up at him through my lashes. I wasn’t sure how sexy I was, but when Dante looked at me likethat, his entire body frozen like he was just barely keeping himself from pouncing on me—I didn’t care.

Dante’s gaze tracked my face. “Do you know how tempting you are?”

I shook my head honestly.

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