by Katee Robert
Jesus, Rose. The thing you should be most furious about is the kidnapping, not the fact that he held back during sex.
She ignored that snide little voice inside her and snatched up the phone. No matter how much time she wasted looking at angles for this, the truth was that she couldn’t let her family worry. She glanced at the door leading to the rest of the plane and, after the barest consideration, dialed Lorelei.
Really, she was the only choice. Sasha, soft sweetheart that she was, would just cry if Rose called her. Anya would spend the entire conversation trying to figure out where she was so she could show up and peel Dante’s skin off while he was still alive. Her parents? They were fierce and savvy and usually able to see all the angles of any given situation, but she couldn’t guarantee that would hold true with one of their daughters in danger.
The year after Rose graduated high school, when Lorelei was a freshman, her sister had skipped school with some fool boy she’d liked. It was a relatively innocent thing; the kind of shit kids did all the time. But she’d turned off her phone.
Mama and Papa lost their damn minds. By the time Lorelei showed up hours later, a hickey on neck and a satisfied expression on her face, not only had their parents marshaled a search party bristling with guns, but they’d had Mama’s family in Boston on standby, too.
Living in a mostly peaceful time hadn’t dulled the memories of the past. Rose knew their history, of course; it was one of the first things she was taught when her parents decided she was old enough to start learning the ropes. But it wasn’t until that day with Lorelei that she realized how deep those scars went…or how badly some of them had healed.
No, she couldn’t trust her parents to be rational right now. Better they get the information secondhand.
With another suspicious glance at the door, she dialed Lorelei’s number from memory. Her sister answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” She spoke in Russian since she was reasonably sure Dante didn’t know the language, so even if he was listening in, it provided some secrecy.
“Rose?” She immediately lowered her voice. “Where are you? We’ve been looking everywhere—”
“Dante Verducci kidnapped me,” she cut in. Rose glanced at the door. She didn’t know how much time she had, and she needed to get the information to her sister. “He took me from the bridal suite minutes after you all left.”
Lorelei sucked in a breath. Rose waited, but her sister didn’t make her wait long. When she spoke again, she’d wrestled her shock and other messy emotions under control. Lorelei always was good in a crisis. “I see.”
Rose wanted to ask how everyone was, but first she needed a better idea of the situation. “How long have I been gone? What’s happening there?”
“A little over six hours. The situation is…tense. Our parents and Romeo organized a search party, but when that didn’t turn up anything, things devolved quickly. Aunt Carrigan had to intervene and suggest everyone take a walk to cool off, but it’s only a bandage. We need you back here, and fast.”
Rose sank to perch on the edge of the bed. It was exactly as she feared. Papa might normally be known for his cool head, but with her missing, both he and Mama would be on edge and not thinking clearly. Romeo was also normally chilled to the bone, but his pride would demand to be compensated for essentially being left at the altar. Shit. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to be an option. I’m on a plane, and I don’t know our destination.”
A beat of silence. Finally, Lorelei said slowly, “I was under the impression that if you were able to call, you’d knifed the bastard and escaped.”
The mention of knife had a phantom blade stroking down her spine the same way Dante had done it earlier. A threat. It was most certainly a threat. He surely hadn’t meant it to be seductive, and she sure as hell hadn’t felt a little tremor of desire in response. Rose sucked in a breath and tried to focus. “He left me a phone.”
“He’s that confident?” Lorelei hesitated. “That’s bad.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Rose…”
“Tell me everything.” There wasn’t much she could do from here, not at this moment, but better to know the full spectrum of the mess so she had some idea of how to fix it when she got back. Because she would be fixing it.
“It’s a mess.” Her sister sighed. “Last I heard, Romeo is threatening war for the insult of being left at the altar. I don’t think finding out that Dante Verducci kidnapped you is going to help. It might even make the situation worse. Every time Romeo makes a comment about you not fulfilling your promises, that vein in Papa’s temple pulses. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps. Weirdly, Mama is being the calmest, but I think it’s because she’s in crisis mode. And Carrigan is helping.”
Rose closed her eyes and tried to think. There was a way out of this puzzle. There had to be. The easy solution was for her to escape and get back there to marry Romeo before things truly went past the point of no return, but they’d reach that point sooner rather than later with so many tempers simmering at surface level. She couldn’t rely on her parents right now, not when so much of their concern would be with her safety and not with the greater Romanov power base.
She closed her eyes. The thing she needed most was the one thing she couldn’t guarantee. Time. “Lorelei, I need you to stall them.”
“What?”
“You have to stall. Keep our parents calm. Do something to keep Romeo occupied. Under no circumstances are we to go to war with the Italians. The cost is too high.” Once again, she couldn’t stop the rising guilt that threatened to choke her. She’d fucked up. This was her fault. If she’d fought Dante, maybe people would have gotten hurt, but at least it wouldn’t be a war. She’d been so sure she was ready to take over the family business and let her parents enjoy an actual retirement. So sure she was ready to be a good leader for their people. Look at her now.
Tricked by Dante Verducci.
Kidnapped by Dante Verducci.
Singlehandedly starting the first war in decades. Not even her father had managed that with all the bullshit he pulled with Mama’s family. Hell, even her mother’s family had avoided it despite high costs during the skirmishes between the O’Malleys, Sheridans, and Hallorans in Boston. Rose truly was a boundary breaker, but not in the way her parents had intended by having a daughter as the heir.
All the bullshit she’d fielded from Papa’s Russian cousins came rushing back. They doubted her because of her gender, and she’d been so damn certain they were just archaic assholes. Now, she couldn’t be so sure.
Truly, Rose was shaping up to be the worst heir the Romanov family had ever seen. The fact she was also the first woman who intended to take over? Even if she survived this, even if her entire family survived this, the greater Romanov family tree would have something to say about it. They might very well try to come in and do a full sweep, marrying her and her sisters off to secure alliances and establishing a man of their choice as leader. That’s what they wanted in the first place, after all.
No. Rose took a slow breath and forced her racing thoughts to still. This wasn’t over. There was still time to salvage things before everyone tumbled past the point of no return. She wouldn’t allow a war. She’d find a way through. She just needed time. “Please, Lorelei.”
Her sister was quiet for so long, she had to press her lips together to prevent herself from begging. She was Rose Romanov, and she didn’t beg, not even her sisters. Besides, Lorelei didn’t like to be rushed. Letting her consider her options before making a decision was the easiest way to get what Rose wanted.
“I might have an idea,” she finally said. She hardly sounded like herself, her voice wavering a little. “The cost is going to be high, Rose. Really high.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll pay it.”
“You might not be the one paying it.” Something rustled on her end. “I’ll do what it takes to prevent a war. I promise. You do what it takes to cut off that moth
erfucker’s head and bring it back with you. I think Romeo would accept it as an apology. Maybe.”
Despite it all, Rose smiled. Sometimes Lorelei was even more bloodthirsty than Anya. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”
“I mean it, Rose. Kill him. Anya’s about to start stabbing people, and Sasha hasn’t stopped crying since we realized you were missing. We need you back here.”
Sasha hadn’t stopped crying. Guilt swamped Rose. Her sister fainted at the sight of blood, hated guns, and wanted to be an artist for children’s picture books. If they were a family of black sheep, she was the pristine gray one that was better than the rest. Somewhere along the way, Rose, Anya, and Lorelei had decided to do whatever it took to preserve Sasha’s relative innocence. And now her little sister couldn’t stop crying because she was worried about Rose. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. I’ll handle things on this end.”
“Thank you.”
“Rose…” Lorelei hesitated. “Something I don’t get, though. Why hasn’t he killed you? If he wanted a war between the Romanovs and Capparellis, murdering you would accomplish a lot more than a simple kidnapping.”
She’d thought the same thing, but she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “Thanks for that insight, Lorelei. That’s really comforting and not at all something I’m already worried about.”
“I don’t want you dead, you ass. I’m just saying if I were Dante and wanted to disrupt a Romanov-Capparelli alliance, I’d make an example of you and leave your body to be found.” She was silent for a beat. “Or maybe wait until after the wedding and kill you in your wedding bed. There’d be no coming back from that for Romeo.”
“Lorelei.” Rose glanced at the door again. Where was Dante? Even if he was listening in, it wasn’t like she’d said anything he could use. Still, better to get off the phone and start coming up with a plan. “Your attempts to be comforting are failing spectacularly.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Yes, well, you can take your just saying and fuck off. If he wanted me dead, he’d have done it already, so I have at least a little advantage here. In theory. I don’t know what he wants, but I mean to find out. Before I kill him, of course.”
“Of course.” Raised voices in the background. Lorelei sighed. “I have to go. I think Papa is about to punch Romeo in the face, and that will make this entire conversation pointless. Stay safe, Rose. Be sure to tell Verducci if he touches a hair on your head, Anya and I will grind his family to dust. Even the extended cousins who have gone straight.”
“Lorelei.”
“What? You’re my big sister, and I can’t guarantee I won’t lose my mind if something happens to you. If he’s not a total fool, that will at least give him pause.”
Rose shook her head. Sometimes Lorelei was even scarier than Anya. “I’ll be sure to pass on your message.”
“Do that. Stay safe and get back here as fast as possible.” She hung up.
Rose dropped the phone on the bed and exhaled slowly. Lorelei would handle things back home. If there was a way through this, her sister would find it. She might be the youngest, but she had the twistiest mind out of the four of them. Rose might not like the solution she came up with—it was all but guaranteed at this point—but it would be better than war.
It had to be better than war.
She stared hard at the door leading to the rest of the plane. No matter how confident she acted with her sister on the phone, the truth was her options were limited. She had no weapons handy, and she didn’t think she could take Dante in a fair fight. More, even if she could, there was sure to be a welcoming party when they landed. She’d have nowhere to run, and she didn’t like her odds of being able to even get the door to the cockpit open to attempt to bribe the pilot.
No, better to play her cards close to her chest for the time being. There were only so many places he could take her, and if he was any other guy in the life, he would head straight for his family. That was the best bet in this situation, too. She didn’t relish the thought of dealing with Lorenzo Verducci, but she’d do whatever it took to get back to her people. Even if Dante didn’t want to put her in his uncle’s hands, he’d go back to LA.
If they were in a city, her options increased dramatically. She just needed to bide her time until then. It was the only logical thing to do. She certainly wasn’t making this decision because of how thrilling it had been to go toe to toe with Dante.
Rose closed her eyes. You can do better than that. She didn’t make a habit of lying to herself. She had experienced both lust and excitement when Dante cut off her wedding dress and she threw the only weapons she had at him—her words. She liked that he didn’t flinch, that he met her at the line she drew in the sand and didn’t pull his punches.
She didn’t expect special treatment, but usually people in the life who weren’t family fell into two categories. They either put her on a strange sort of pedestal that made her uncomfortable, or they thought she was just a pretty face who happened to be born first and sought to use or manipulate her. Either way, they all came to her with smiles and sweet words.
It had even been like that with Jackson, though he wasn’t supposed to know who she was. He’d treated her like spun glass. Like she was some breakable woman who would fold under any kind of harsh treatment. She’d liked it. Of course, she’d liked it. Who didn’t want to be seen as a precious treasure?
Dante? He didn’t treat her like that at all. The way he looked at her when she pushed back? It was as if every snarl and show of strength only increased his interest.
I bet sex with this man wouldn’t be mediocre in the least.
No. That wasn’t fair. She might lie to Dante, but she wouldn’t to herself. Sex with Jackson hadn’t been mediocre. And, no matter what she’d claimed, she hadn’t faked it. It had simply been…normal. There was nothing wrong with normal, but Rose couldn’t quite argue that part of her hadn’t wanted more.
The kind of more Dante seemed to be offering.
She took a breath and then another. Okay. She’d admitted her traitorous feelings. No matter what else was true, she was only human. Her feelings weren’t actions, and they didn’t mean she was about to endanger her entire family for a few hours of potentially good cock. Her feelings existed, and she couldn’t function effectively without acknowledging them, but they did not control her.
Within a few breaths, she managed to let go of the knotted feeling in her chest. There was a way out of this. She just needed the time and patience to see it. Dante didn’t seem the type to let his guard down, even if she played nice, but continuing to threaten him wouldn’t accomplish a single damn thing. She had to try to play the game, even if she didn’t quite understand the rules.
I came to claim what’s mine.
His words from before rolled through her, making her shiver. Surely not. Surely that was just another element of some mindfuck plan he had in place. She’d shot the man, for fuck’s sake. Even people who moved in the circles they did took assault with a deadly weapon as a clear indication of a lack of romantic interest.
But if he did mean it? She could work with that.
Rose ducked back into the bathroom and did her best to freshen up. She didn’t like the idea of walking around mostly naked, so she opened the closet door to see what options she had. She blinked. A dozen identical gray button-down shirts hung in a perfect line. Next to them, a dozen pairs of black slacks. She crouched down and found two pairs of the same exact shoe. Apparently Dante wasn’t a fan of variety.
She filed that piece of information away and considered the shirts. They were plenty large enough to cover her nakedness, if not enough to make her decent, but it meant wearing Dante’s clothing.
Ah well, desperate times called for desperate measures.
She grabbed the first shirt and pulled it on, quickly buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves. Dante wasn’t an overly large man, and she wouldn’t call him curvy by any stretch of the imagination, so the shirt
stretched tight across her breasts and barely covered the lower curve of her ass. She glared down at her chest and then cursed at the way her breasts made the fabric gape. “Desperate times.” Rose undid the first few buttons. It revealed a slice of her chest, but it was still better than the alternative.
She glanced at herself in the mirror. “Well, fuck.” She looked like a woman intent on seduction, the shirt parting to give a good eyeful of cleavage and her red panties flashing in the front with every move. This couldn’t be called decent by any stretch of the imagination.
“Have a good conversation with your sister?”
She bit back a curse. She’d been so focused on whether or not she should lose the shirt that she hadn’t heard Dante approach. She should have expected this. Of course, he’d want to know how she responded to his little stunt with the phone. She still didn’t know why he’d allowed it, either.
Rose took a slow breath and turned to face him. The sight of him was a kick in the chest all over again. His features were familiar to her after months of dating, but it was like looking at a stranger wearing a mask of them. His predatory body language, the coldness in his dark eyes, even the way he wore his blond hair…all of it was unfamiliar. She should—she did—fear this man, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop the heat from flushing just beneath her skin.
Best to just push forward and ignore her body’s response to him. Of course, she would feel desire for him, even after all this. Three months ago, she’d fancied herself in love with this man—or at least a version of him. Maybe that amount of time was long enough to get over someone for most people, but all the unanswered questions had plagued Rose. She had no closure.
Plenty of closure once he’s six feet underground.
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and smiled brightly. “Yes. Just a lovely chat. She thinks I should cut off your head and give it to my groom as a wedding present.”
He didn’t respond. At least not with words. Dante was too busy drinking in the sight of her. His dark gaze flared hot as he did a slow sweep from the top of her head to her bare toes and then back up again, lingering on her legs, on where she was certain he could see her panties, on the way the shirt gaped to display the curves of her breasts, on her mouth.
