Page 55 of Love Without Control

“That’s really awesome,” I said, loving that there was someone out there who cared about those beautiful animals and their eggs. My voice turned wistful. “That would be a dream, getting to help the turtles.”

“Wellllll…” Anna drew out, lifting one dark eyebrow. “We actually have a training class tomorrow. It’s the last one of the season.”

Dane’s hand tightened around my shoulder, and he shocked the shit out of me with his next words. “How do my wife and I sign up?”

Chapter 18

Foraweekaftertaking the surveyor course, Dane and I walked the stretch of beach we were assigned every morning at dawn. We didn’t see a single turtle until…

“That was so exciting,” I squealed, skipping in front of Dane and turning to walk backward. “I can’t believe we actually saw the mama turtle covering her nest and heading back to the sea. They’re usually gone way before dawn.”

“I know,” Dane said, bemusement quirking his lips up. Of course he knew. He’d attended the class too, which still flabbergasted me. “I think it’s crazy that the females lay their clutch, head off to the water, and never see their hatchlings.”

“Reminds me of my mother,” I quipped.

“Would you turn around before you—Dammit!” Dane lunged forward and caught me beneath my armpits when I stumbled over a rock in the path. “Shit, are you okay?”

I rested my hands on his chest to balance myself and laughed. I was a little giddy from seeing our first turtle of the mating season. My hands slid down his abs before removing themselves from his body, and I didn’t miss the hardness beneath his pale-yellow V-neck T-shirt. My laughter faded away as I realized I was fondling him.

“Sorry. I’m fine,” I mumbled, swiveling around to face the direction of our house again.

“My wife can cop a feel any time,” he assured me, taking my hand securely in his as we walked.

“Shut up, Dillweed.” There was no heat behind the words. Though I’d never admit it to him, I was beginning to rather like the way my fake husband flirted with me. And the constant hand-holding. I really liked that. Sure, he was only playing a role, but it still gave me a sense of security.

Which officially made me an insane person. Dane Osbourne was still Damiano Cappitani, and Damiano was a very dangerous man. But, I reminded myself, he had saved me from a horrific situation, and then he literally saved my life.

I looked up at his profile. His crooked nose was perfectly straight now, slim at the top and flaring at the nostrils. His already olive skin had deepened to a darker tone after only a week in the Keys, and his black hair now reached his collar.

The kicker was that damn beard, thick and dark, which covered the lower half of his face. I’d never been attracted to a man with full facial hair before, butdayum! Even I had to admit my pretend husband was a hottie.

When he’d kissed me that day while Robert took photos of us, the slight scratch of his beard and mustache against my face had caused tingles in some very inconvenient places. It disturbed me because I was not supposed to be attracted to this man.

Women have been attracted to bad boys for centuries, Eden. Just look at Giacomo Casanova and Black Bart, both unrepentant rakes who were notorious with the ladies.

While true, that had never been me. I liked clean-cut, nice guys who majored in business and whose biggest crime was driving their sports cars too fast.And look how well that worked out for you with Marty.

Flicking away all those thoughts, I asked, “Once all this is resolved, like, if your father is out of the picture, will you go back to your previous… occupation?”

Dane glanced down with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow. “You mean go back to work for the family? No.”

“Why?”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a long beat. “I guess I haven’t had options before, and now I do. Working for the Mafia isn’t great for one’s health,” he said, bitterness surrounding his pronouncement. “I never realized how taxing it was to be constantly looking over your shoulder.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing now? Looking over our shoulders?”

Dane tilted his head from side to side a couple times. “Yes, but it’s different from being surrounded by criminals all day, every day. Almost everyone I worked with at the nightclub was connected somehow. Down here, I feel like that life is a million miles away. Like I can breathe easy. I like it.”

“I would think the life of a lowly sea turtle wrangler would be boring as hell for you.”

He burst into laughter. “Trust me, that’s about as much excitement as I want.” His big hand squeezed mine and he smiled down at me. “And it was exciting this morning. That mama turtle looked way bigger in real life than I was expecting. What do you think she weighed?”

“Probably close to three hundred pounds,” I surmised.

As we approached our backyard, a red and yellow Nerf football rolled across the grass, stopping at our feet. Dane bent to pick it up as a tiny boy came barreling toward us, his harried mother trying to keep up.

“Footbawwwwwl!” he shrieked, holding his hands up for the ball.

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