Page 6 of Possessed
It’s going to be a long ninety days.
By the timebreakfast is over, some of Dante's staff have moved my clothes from home into my new room, and I'm able to change. Dante tells me we have an appointment, and I should wear tight clothing. I'm careful with my next question, knowing that he doesn't want me to push back, but I'm still too curious to go along with whatever mysterious plans he's made.
When I ask, Dante informs me we're going to a high-end boutique clothing store where I will be measured for my new wardrobe. He gives me a grin when I look skeptical, but doesn't elaborate. Instead, he leads me out of the penthouse where a blacked-out SUV is waiting, but this time the valet simply hands Dante the keys and walks away.
"Just you and me today," he says, opening the passenger door. "And since I know you're dying to ask, we're getting you a wardrobe fit because I only want the best for you. Like I said earlier," His hand grazes my leg as he moves to shut the door, and it makes goosebumps rise on my skin. The thin layer of leggings does very little to keep the heat of his touch away. "I take care of what is mine."
I fasten my belt as he walks around, settling behind the wheel and taking us out onto the busy street. I don't know what to say, but I can't help sneaking glances when I think I can get away with it. He's just … so handsome. Outrageously so. I'm so distracted that I don't even pull away when his hand moves over to rest on my knee.
Or maybe I just like how it feels.
The boutique is understated in its appearance from the outside, but once we're inside, I start to see the bigger picture. This isn't someplace a normal person would go. It isn't obvious from the street because it doesn't need to be, not with the clientele it serves. This is for the ultra-rich, for people who need something custom-made and special. Something expensive.
The shopkeeper immediately greets us with a wide smile, shaking Dante's hand enthusiastically. "Mr. Vale! It's so wonderful to see you again!"
"I'll need her measured today," Dante says, ignoring the woman's enthusiasm completely. "Everything will be a rush, but I know you can handle it. Have everything delivered to my home by the end of the week. Money is no object."
The woman's eyes widen before she looks to me. "Of course. And is this Ms. Cross?"
"It is. I'll sit in on the measurements."
Again, not a request. Just a statement. Apparently, it isn't just me who gets this unmovable version of Dante. It's just really how he is.
I'm secretly pleased that he called ahead about me, but it also lets me know that he had no doubt I would sign his contract. Aswe're led across the plush carpet to a private room with a raised dais, I try to look around and get an idea of just what Dante is going to want me to wear while I'm staying with him.
I don't hate the idea that he only wants to give me the best, but I also don't want to be treated like a doll. When the shopkeeper leaves us alone, Dante sits down on one of the plush leather chairs, gesturing for me to stand on the dais.
"You said I’m your assistant, but you haven't told me what you need an assistant for," I say. "I promise I'm not arguing. I just want, um, to do the best job for you possible."
Dante smirks at me as the tailor and stylist file in. "I'm sure I'll find something for you to do."
It's the first time I've ever really been measured; even when I had to attend events with my father, I wore off-the-rack dresses. But I follow the tailor's prompts, lifting my arms and turning this and that way, all while Dante watches me.
It's unsettling. It's also hot.
He isn't bored. I have his full attention. And when the tailor takes my waist measurements, Dante's eyes darken. He looks at me like he wants to devour me, and even with the distance between us, I feel a warmth growing beneath my skin. I'm on display, for Dante and Dante alone.
He's perfectly in control until the tailor's assistant, a man in his twenties, touches me in a way Dante disapproves of. His hand lands on the curve of my butt, just checking some measurement, and Dante is up out of his chair like a shot, his hand clamping down over the young man's wrist. The assistant's eyes widen, and I can see fear blooming in them. Dante says something to him, his voice low, but I can't make out what he says.
"Y-yes, sir," the young man stammers, pulling back. The lead tailor, a woman, quickly waves her assistant away and takes his place. I don't see him for the rest of the appointment, and I'm not sure if the possessiveness of Dante's outburst is something I like or not.
In the end, Dante orders a wide variety of clothing for me to wear, some of which I'm sure I'll never use. But I know better than to protest or tell him no. He orders enough dresses to make sure I'll always have something to wear for dinner or outings, and casual clothes for lounging around the penthouse.
And lingerie. That one takes me off guard, but I'm not stupid. The way he speaks to me, touches me … I know where this is heading.
The tailor leaves us alone once more, and Dante rises from his chair. "Come here."
I obey, stepping down from the dais. My heart is pounding, but I don't know if it's from nerves or excitement. His hand wraps around mine, and he pulls me into him. "Are you scared of me, Isla?"
"Yes," I whisper, looking up at him. He's so handsome, his eyes so dark, and his mouth is just inches from mine. He makes me forget everything else, and for a moment, I don't remember the reason why I'm here in the first place.
"Don't be," he breathes, the scent of his skin and cologne wrapping around me, spicy and addictive, "Everything I do to you, you will let me because you want me to do it." Dante's other hand cups the back of my neck, and I know he can feel my pulse, thrumming like a hummingbird's wings. He releases my handand runs his thumb over my bottom lip before finally letting me go.
I sway like I've been drinking, adrenaline and arousal pumping through my body in equal parts.
"Let's go, Isla," Dante rumbles, "I've got deep pockets, but not deep enough that I'd get away with doing what I want to do to you here. Let's go home."
My entire body is tingling as I follow him out to the SUV, and I know for a fact that he can tell how off-balance he makes me. How I respond to his touch. By the time we arrive back at the penthouse, I'm on edge. Dante is so close, and I know I should be scared of him, but I'm not. I want him to touch me again, to kiss me, and when I glance over at him, I can see the tight set of his jaw.
