Page 65 of Devious Kingpin
“You blush easily,” he stated.
I rolled my eyes. “Actually I don’t,” I grumbled. “Just around you, it seems. Why you have that effect on me is something I haven’t quite figured out yet,” I admitted.
A dark smile pulled on his lips. “I like that,” he admitted. “I like that a lot.”
“Don’t get yourself all worked up, Mr. DiLustro,” I said quickly, my face burning with my admission. “Eventually I’ll become immune to your words.” And sex appeal, I added silently.
“I hope you don’t,” he said in an amused drawl. “I want to see your blush when we’re eighty. I want you to want me when I’m wrinkly and old. I’ll go with you. Like thatNotebookmovie.”
A choked laugh escaped me. “Well, that’s… romantic,” I said softly, my cheeks warm from his stare. “I didn’t take you for such a romance buff.”
His words were so quiet I barely heard them. “I wasn’t until I fell for you.”
My heart raced from the shock of hearing them. He didn’t touch me, but my skin tingled as if he had. He was so big and warm and hard that I had to fight my body’s need to lean into him. The pull tugged on me, like he was my center of gravity. My fingers pulsed with the need to run my hand along his strong jawline and then bury them in his hair so I could pull him closer and meet my lips with his.
Maybe I had been fighting Dante DiLustro for the past two years for naught.
CHAPTER29
Juliette
Iloved the way Dante drove. It was infinitely him.
His hand wrapped around the wheel while he sat in the seat with confidence, taking us home.
Home.
Twice in the short span of twenty-four hours I let that word come to the surface. Maybe Dante felt like home because it was just the two of us. Dad had made a home with Davina and their child. I still had a room in his home and Aunt Aisling’s but they were both mostly empty. Aunt Aisling lived with Dante’s father, mostly in New York, Wynter lived with her husband, and Davina spent most of her time with Dad in their penthouse.
Probably getting freaky, I thought wryly.
And then there was my brother, Killian. I loved him, but I honestly had no fucking idea where his head was or what he was up to. His engagement to Branka Russo had been surprising and short-lived. He didn’t seem heartbroken when she’d been kidnapped—in the middle of his wedding I might add—by Sasha Nikolaev.
Since then, he seemed to spend increasingly more time in Ireland.
Regardless, it left me alone for most of the time over the last year and a half. Which was fine when I went after the men who killed our parents. Or my rapists. But it was incredibly lonely in between.
I heard a buzz and I glanced at my husband behind the wheel.
“I think your phone’s ringing,” I remarked.
He shook his head. “It’s probably your phone.” He leaned over, reaching across my lap and opening the glove box. “I forgot to give it to you back in Vegas. Sorry.”
Handing it to me, I saw a list of missed calls and messages. “Jesus, has it been a week or just a day?”
Dante chuckled. “You’re a popular girl.”
He remained silent as he drove and I scrolled through all the messages. Quickly typing back responses to my family, I assured them all I was good. In fact, I typed GREAT.
“Hey, you still have that photo we took?” I asked Dante. On the way out of the Prohibition bar, there was a booth and we took a selfie. One to leave on the wall behind and one for us. Except, I didn’t remember either one of us grabbing it.
He reached between us and pulled out the photo from the console. I took it and smiled. It was a goofy photo. My eyes crossed and his smile crooked, like we were both drunk as hell. I snapped a photo of it and sent it off to all of them.
*Went to a Prohibition bar. No, I didn't drink but it was totally gangster cool.*
First reply came from Dad and Davina.
Dad: *Don’t let him turn you into a gangster. I’ll break his bones.*
