by Katee Robert
He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “You look good in my shirt, Rosa.”
She might be willing to use whatever tools were available to her, but the way her thighs clenched at his low words was downright unforgivable. Rose dropped her hand, an edge creeping into her voice. “Pure coincidence. I look good in everything.”
The desire in his eyes flared hotter in response. “I know.” Dante shook his head slowly as if trying to focus. “Which sister?”
She considered ignoring the question, but ultimately, answering might prompt him to offer more information she could hopefully use to her benefit. “Lorelei.”
“Ah. The baby.”
She couldn’t even blame his knowledge on all the research he must have done into her and her family before coming to New York. Calling Lorelei the baby was something Rose did. She had talked to him about her family, though she left out any incriminating details. She looked away. “Don’t underestimate her. Don’t underestimate any of us.”
“I’m not a fool, Rosa.”
“Could have fooled me.” She glared. “You’re fucking with the Romanovs, Dante. Even if you somehow managed to take out our entirely family, Jovan would send someone from Russian to annihilate you and everyone you love.”
He snorted. “It’s a short list, so he wouldn’t have to try very hard.”
Rose’s chest gave a strange little dip, but she ignored it. Of course, her emotions were fucked up over this man. He’d duped her, and even three months later, part of her still reeled from the knowledge that she’d trusted him with things she didn’t trust other people with.
Nothing he could use against the family, of course. But smaller, more intimate secrets. Ones she didn’t share with even her sisters because she was the oldest, the heir, the one who had to be larger than life because she would lead them one day.
This man was not her ex. Not really. He was the fucking enemy. “Let me go.”
“No.”
No use pushing harder at that point. She changed gears without missing a beat. “Where are you taking me? Los Angeles?”
“No.” Dante’s eyes went flat. “My uncle would interfere, and he’s a blunt instrument. He would chop off your head and send it to your groom. It’s the kind of fun little joke he’s into, and it would piss off Romeo Capparelli, which is reason enough for him to do it.”
A sliver of true fear went through her. Ultimately, Dante was just the nephew of the head of the Verducci family, and cousin to the next. He wasn’t in charge of shit. If Lorenzo Verducci got involved, it wouldn’t matter what Dante thought of things. If his uncle wanted her dead, she was dead. Suddenly, being taken to LA didn’t sound like such a good idea, even if her father’s cousin Kirill had people there. Had he returned himself at this point? He was in New York for the wedding, but plans changed and none of her extended family would want to be gone from their home cities for long.
Rose swallowed hard. “So, if you’re not taking me home, then…”
Dante gave her a steady look. “I am taking you home.” He turned and stalked toward the bedroom door. “But only after you have my ring on your finger. Not even my uncle would dare touch you once you’re mine, Romanov or no.”
Chapter 7
When Dante realized that Rose didn’t follow him out of the bedroom, he only barely managed to fight down the desire to go back there to haul her into the main area of the plane with him. He was playing a slow game, and that required patience. If she needed time to stew after that phone call with her sister, then so be it. Rose was a smart woman. She’d quickly realize that her best bet lay in playing along with him. She had no way out.
On the other hand, she showed every evidence of being a prideful creature, and he’d undermined that pride by shoving her in a trunk. It stood to reason it would take her some time to get over it.
But how fucking long?
He was bored.
They had another hour in the air. Frankly, he’d like to fast-forward to landing, just to see what Rose would do once she had her feet on the ground again. She probably already had plans in place to run the second she got the chance. Dante smiled. His woman was in for one hell of a disappointment.
As much as he relished outplaying her, though, a part of him wondered if this would be one blow too many to her pride. She lived in the same world he did. Surely she understood they didn’t play by normal people’s rules, and that included the line of too far.
There was no such thing as too far.
Still… He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the closed bedroom door. He honestly didn’t know how she would react, and that sent a frisson of irritation through him.
Life was so much easier when he didn’t have to give a fuck about other people’s feelings. His uncle didn’t expect it of him, and so he’d never bothered. He worked better when he was cold and ruthless and Lorenzo knew it, even if it meant he hadn’t fully trusted Dante since Lorenzo brought him in as a teenager. A junkyard dog was useful in a number of situations, but there always stood the risk it would bite the hand that fed it.
Over the years, when his uncle sent him to take care of problems, Dante had started making examples of his targets. It earned him something of a reputation in the city, and it was the main reason Kirill hadn’t taken any meaningful steps to cause an all-out conflict.
It also had the happy side effect of unsettling Lorenzo. His uncle feared him, which was occasionally a challenging line to dance. Keep the old man off his back, but not threaten him so overtly that Lorenzo decided he was more trouble than he was worth.
It wouldn’t be a balance he had to worry about for long. Matteo would take care of Lorenzo soon enough. His cousin was too ambitious and too savvy to let his father run wild the way he was now. Matteo was just taking his sweet fucking time pulling the trigger. He had his reasons, but if Lorenzo tried to pull some bullshit with Rose, Dante would take the choice away from his cousin and put the old man down himself.
The door opened before he could change his mind about giving her space, and Rose stepped through it. She looked… Fuck, he didn’t have the words to describe how she looked in his shirt, her hair mussed and her tits threatening to pop a button or two despite the fact she’d obviously tried to make space for them. With every step she took toward him, she flashed a glimpse of red lace between her thighs.
He decided right then and there that he’d fuck her while she wore his shirt at some point. Not yet, not while she still wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth, but soon.
Rose stopped just out of reach. Her makeup was no longer perfect, but it only added to the just-fucked look she had going on. She narrowed her pretty hazel eyes “I’m going to ask you this once, and I want an honest answer.”
“Sure,” he lied easily.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said it so calmly, it took a moment for the words to penetrate. Rose didn’t give him a chance to respond, just continuing on in that painfully even tone that said she was seconds away from losing it. “You lied to me. You put me in a trunk. You made sure I disappeared at a specific time and place, and as a result, there’s a very real risk my family will be going to war. In what world would I ever agree to marry you?”
“In ours.”
She blinked. “There are lines, even in our world.”
“Are there?” He moved to the small cabinet bolted to the floor between the chairs they’d occupied earlier and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey. “Drink?”
“No.” The response was immediate and final. “The last thing I want right now is to share a drink with my abductor.” She really was magnificent like this. Nothing like the tame everyday girlfriend she’d played in his bed before. Oh, Rose had always been gorgeous, always been captivating, had always drawn his interest because he knew what lay beneath the mask, even if he hadn’t seen it for himself.
Now the masks were off. She wasn’t pretending any longer. Neither was he. Did she recognize him the same way he
recognized her? They were alike in so many ways, were a perfect fucking match.
They were dangerous people capable of dangerous deeds.
They were predators.
Dante grabbed a glass and poured a healthy splash of whiskey into it. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, curious on how far he could push her. “How many of your aunts and uncles—and parents—had their relationships start with a little light kidnapping? More than a few.”
She dropped into the seat across from him hard enough to make her breasts bounce. He enjoyed the moment and enjoyed it even more when he finally raised his gaze to her face and found her glaring at him. She gave a delicate sneer. “This is not a little light kidnapping.”
“It’s the very definition of the word.” He smiled a little, just to see her tense in response. Dante motioned at her with his glass. “You’re unharmed and comfortable.”
“You. Put. Me. In. A. Trunk,” she gritted out.
“And you’re dodging the question, Rosa. That’s okay, I already know the answer.” He held up a finger. “James Halloran threw Carrigan O’Malley into a trunk after they fucked the first time, and now they’re married.” He held up a second. “Jude MacNamara knocked up your aunt Sloan before he ever admitted he was a hitman.”
“That’s not kidnapping,” she said mulishly.
“Close enough.” He shrugged and continued, “Your dearest Papa blackmailed your mother into essentially kidnapping herself the night they were married.”
Rose crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned back. “Stop quoting my family history at me.” She crossed one long leg over the other. “I know it better than anyone.”
“And yet we’re still arguing.” Not that he minded. At least she was talking to him. He’d half expected her to hide in the bedroom the moment she walked away the first time, perhaps to attempt to barricade herself in. But no, that’s something other Rose would have done when she’d worn her mask with him. The normal woman she’d played at being. This Rose was a Romanov, and she’d spend her entire time in his presence looking for the best angle to slip a blade between his ribs.
She was a revelation.
Rose started taking her hair out of its ridiculously complicated style. “Yes, we’re still arguing. You are not like my father or my uncles. You’re nowhere near the man they are.”
Dante shook his head slowly, watching bobby pin after bobby pin appear in a pile next to her. “You know better. I’m exactly the kind of man they are. We’re all cut from the same cloth—even you—but you have your panties in a twist because I hurt your pride, so you can’t admit it.”
She stared at him, her arms raised, half her dark hair hanging in wild waves around her face. “You’re out of your mind.”
He took a long drink of his whiskey. “It’s been said before.”
Rose leaned forward, flashing a healthy slice of her chest in the process. “You might have a stack of dossiers on me and my family, we might have done something resembling dating for several months, but you don’t know me.”
Dante drained his glass and sat back. He was determined to play this slowly, but her continued insistence that he couldn’t possibly know her worked its way under his skin. “I’ve known you plenty.”
“More sex insinuation? Cute.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ve already established that we both faked it. If that’s your basis for pulling this shit, the foundation is crumbling beneath your very feet.”
He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. The plane seats weren’t particularly roomy, so it shrank the distance between them considerably. Her bare knee was a few inches from his hand, and his fingers twitched with the need to touch her skin. Dante liked having all his fingers attached, though, so he resisted the urge. Barely.
Instead, he touched her in a different way. “Don’t pretend you lied about everything.”
“I did.” She said it so confidently, he almost believed it. Almost.
“Liar.” He shook his head. “You didn’t lie about how hard it is being the oldest, the one everyone depends on, the responsible party who has to keep your sisters in line. You didn’t lie about how hard it was being everything to everyone, or how much you appreciated that you didn’t have to do that with me.”
She went still. “Shut the fuck up, Dante.”
“I didn’t lie about everything, either.” He watched her expression closely. Was that interest? Impossible to say, so he pressed onward. “I didn’t lie about my mother, or the complicated feelings I have about her and her passing. I didn’t lie about the shit I liked to do with you, the movie marathons and finding little hole-in-the-wall bars to test out like they were a secret only we shared. I didn’t tell you the full truth, but not everything was fake.”
“Stop it,” she whispered. She looked away as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him. “You have me here. You don’t have to play pretend anymore. It’s cruel.”
He was tempted to continue, to drive the point home that no matter who they pretended to be with each other, the connection between them was real even before they ripped off each other’s masks. And after? He’d never wanted someone the way he wanted Rose. Given enough time, she’d want him, too. “Even if your argument weren’t complete bullshit, the fact remains that I’ll have plenty of time to know you after we’re married.”
“No. Absolutely not.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her seat. “But I’m feeling gracious, so I’ll offer you a deal. Turn this plane around and return me home, and I’ll pretend this never happened.”
Her audacity had him barking out a laugh. The sound surprised him as much as it seemed to surprise her. He grinned. “The moment I take you back, if your family doesn’t snipe me on the runway, they’ll hunt me to the ends of the earth. Nice try.”
She gave him a surprisingly innocent look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I bet you don’t.” He was good, but even he knew better than to take his chances against those odds. Back in the day, her uncle Jude MacNamara was one of the best hitmen around. Even thirty years out of the game—officially—he was one to be wary of. Technically, he was a private investigator now, choosing to find people instead of killing them, but Dante highly doubted he’d let his other skills dull. And that was just one member of the family. They all had colorful histories, and they were all deadly in their own ways. The only thing stopping Rose’s family from siccing one of their dogs on Dante was the fact he had Rose with him now.
Besides, if he killed one of her family members, it would be a setback he wasn’t sure his plan could survive. Rose and he might be similar in so many ways, but they differed on that subject. He liked his cousin and barely tolerated the rest of his family. She loved hers with a loyalty that baffled him. They were just people, and people were all motivated by selfish means, which led to them disappointing or betraying you.
He wanted to consider her naive for that belief, but history spoke for itself. The O’Malleys were insular and clannish and might fight amongst themselves on occasion but would join ranks and battle to the death the moment one of theirs was threatened. The greater Romanov family couldn’t say the same, but Dmitri Romanov had adopted at least that part of his wife’s family traits after marrying her. “This ends with my ring on your finger. Make your peace with it now.”
“Dante—”
“We’ll be landing soon.” He leaned back and motioned at her lap. “Buckle in, Rosa.”
For a moment, he thought she might argue, but she finally pulled the belt over her hips, glaring all the while. Neither of them spoke as the plane touched down. A smooth landing, but he expected nothing less from his man. Rose tensed, and he could practically see her flipping through scenarios and trying to decide the best way to turn the tables on him.
A few minutes later, the door opened with a faint sound. The pilot would stay in the cockpit while Dante and Rose left the plane; the better to provide reasonable doubt should it ever come to that. It wouldn’t,
but the pilot was loyal, and Dante rewarded loyalty.
He propped his elbows on his knees. “You have—”
“Let me guess. Another of your choices.” Her gaze tracked the open door, and he waited for her to realize she couldn’t successfully make a run for it from here. It didn’t take long. She huffed out a breath and motioned an impatient hand in his direction. “Well, let’s hear it.”
“You can be a good girl and obey and enjoy a nice hot shower and decent meal when we get to our destination.” He paused. “Or you can be foolish, and I’ll lock you in a room with only a cot until you’re in a better mindset.”
“Wow, Dante. Such a difficult choice. So nuanced.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be good.”
No, she wouldn’t. She just wanted to gather as much information as possible before she made her first escape attempt. And there would be an escape attempt. He almost looked forward to it. He’d planned for every eventuality he could think of, but Rose had surprised him once before. She could very well do it again. A thrill rolled through his body at the thought. He truly didn’t know what she’d do, and he fucking loved that.
Dante stood and caught her looking at the bedroom door. “Leave the phone.”
“Why let me call in the first place?”
“Take a guess.”
She pressed her lips together and started for the door. “I can’t decide if you want the Verduccis to go to war with both Romanovs and Capparellis, or if you want us to go to war while the Verduccis laugh and watch. The latter won’t work. Even if Romeo doubts the truth of what happened, he can’t afford to ignore it just in case it is the truth. He’ll come after you.”
“I look forward to it.” If it was easier for her to believe that this was all some ruthless plan to start a war, then so be it. The only person he gave a fuck about right now was Rose, and he would have gone to even greater lengths to have her.
