Page 57 of Devious Kingpin
I took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
“You’re awake.” Dante’s warm breath brushed against the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“What happened with the two of us sticking to our sides of the bed?” I asked, not turning around. I didn’t want to risk coming face-to-face with him and tempting fate. The thought of his body suffocating mine had my pulse racing and blood rushing. “You said the middle was Switzerland. A neutral zone.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I didn’t grope you or anything. I’m just holding my wife.”
I rolled my eyes but he didn’t see it. Not that he’d care. He’d seen me roll my eyes at him plenty of times.
“Guess you were right,” I muttered. “Blizzard came. We’re buried in snow.”
A light shiver rolled down my spine. I wasn’t overly fond of the cold. His hold tightened, but it didn’t suffocate.
“This is far from being buried,” he rasped behind me. “We can go for a ride, if you want?”
This time I did risk looking over my shoulder and my breath caught in my throat. Dante’s ruffled dark locks and the sleepy look on his face made him seem less arrogant. Less formidable.
My heart rate picked up. I didn’t like how my pulse kept speeding up around him. It was as if it were influenced by his closeness. I’d rather be aloof and resist his charms, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own.
It wouldn’t be such a bad revelation, if only my brain could process those fears that cowered in the corners of my mind and always came forward at the worst time.
“Are you serious?” I asked him, my tone slightly breathless. “Or are you trying to get me killed?”
He let out an amused breath. “My dear wildling wife, that’s the last thing on this earth I want to do.”
“Can you stop calling me that?” I spat out, slightly agitated. “Have you seen the damn movie? It’s a horror flick. Nothing cute about it at all.”
He chuckled. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll show you the house.”
Pulling out of his arms, he reluctantly let me go and I rushed into the bathroom, then closed the door behind me. I hurried through my shower, then headed into the walk-in closet through the door that connected the bathroom directly to it.
Dante must have heard me because he called out, “You all done with the bathroom?”
“Yes.” There was little that escaped that man. “You know if we had separate rooms, we wouldn’t have to worry about sharing a bathroom.”
Ignoring my comment, I heard him shuffle out of bed, and shortly after, the shower restarted. In awe, I stared at one side of the walk-in closet,myside. It was fully stocked with designer clothes. Anything and everything a woman desired was here—jewelry, dresses, bathing suits, ski suits, shoes. But no signs of any old-fashioned pajamas. Did he have that stuff ready for me the entire time? Creepy!And convenient,my heart justified him.
Whatever. My eyes roamed over all the clothing. Well, he had everything except combat boots and weapons.
My eyes flicked to Dante’s side and I caught sight of the section where he had stored his weapons. I could see them through the glass. Glocks, sniper rifles, knives. I wondered if he kept them all locked up.
My steps silent against the plush rug, I rushed to his side of the walk-in closet and reached for the door. It refused to open. So I tried again to no avail. It was then that I noticed it. A digital thumbprint. That was his lock.
Oh well. I needed to find some place to store my weapons securely. Or convince Dante to have my thumbprint added to the file so I could open the weapons drawer.
For now, I simply returned to my side of the closet and picked out clothes to wear. Something appropriate for this cold. I started with a matching bra and panties in soft pink. Once I put them on, I prowled through a selection of jeans and then a thick, yellow pullover followed.
I spotted a shelf with women’s shoes and made my way there, noting they were all new. I reached for a pair of Uggs, when the door from the bathroom opened.
His eyes traveled over me, a dark triumphant gleam in his eyes. “Do they fit right?” he asked.
I nodded and something sparkled in his eyes. Satisfaction maybe? Emotions that I couldn’t pinpoint. He could be hard to read sometimes.
“I bought them for you,” he stated matter-of-factly as he headed to his own side of the closet and started pulling out his own outfit. Jeans. A light gray sweater. Combat boots.
Then his words registered. “When did you buy them?” I asked carefully.
His shoulders tensed for a fraction of a second before they relaxed. “The morning after our first wedding.”
