Dante’s Salvation

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  Wendy clung to Dante, her entire body vibrating with the force of the orgasm which had stolen her soul. Never had sex been so...profound. So earth shattering. So...beautiful. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as she nuzzled against his neck and reveled in his hot, musky scent. She couldn’t help it; she’d never had a man... What? What was so different about him?

  He was tender but rough. Demanding, yet sensitive enough to see to her needs before his.

  His chest heaved against hers as he, too, tried to catch his breath. Knowing he’d enjoyed it as much as she had made her smile in wonder. How could any man so beautiful and worldly be interested in her? Treat her as he’d said he would—worshiping her body with his own.

  “Wendy,” he whispered in her ear. “I would carry you to bed, my sweet, but I fear my pants around my ankles would trip me.”

  A laugh burst out of her, and she hugged him hard before unlocking her ankles from behind his butt. He carefully lowered her until her feet met the floor.

  “I think my weight alone would trip you.”

  He bent and pulled up his pants, zipped them but didn’t button them. Then, without warning, he scooped her up into his arms. “You weigh no more than a feather.”

  She clung to his neck, but she realized he had no difficulty carrying her. Never had a man carried her. She wasn’t exactly a lightweight. When he deposited her on the huge bed as if she were a precious jewel, she ran her hands over his muscled shoulders and down his chest. “You’re stronger than you look,” she murmured. He was lean but built like the Statue of David. No bulging muscles, but... She sighed. Very, very nice.

  He stretched out next to her and pulled her against him. He kissed her forehead then brushed her hair back from her shoulder. “You are the most exquisite woman I have ever met, my sweet.”

  She sighed and smiled as she laid her head against his chest. “And you are a silver-tongued devil.”

  He was silent for a moment then said, “I am not the devil.”

  Frowning, she levered herself up on her elbow and studied his eyes in the ambient light filtering through the window. “It’s a figure of speech. You always seem to know just the right things to say to me to...” She chuckled at her train of thought.

  His expression remained serious. “I have never told you an untruth. I find you remarkable. You are so pure and sweet you make me want...”

  Her heart stalled. “Want what?”

  He touched her in that sweet way he always did, skimming the back of one finger from cheekbone to chin. He sighed. “It has been so long since I met a woman for which I felt such a strong attraction. When I look into your eyes, I see so much insecurity I fear if I say more you will become frightened.”

  Insecurity. He nailed her there. She still had no idea what he saw in her that made him take her up against the door and bring her to sexual heights she’d only read about. She wasn’t one to elicit lust from a man such as him.

  Perhaps honesty was best. “You tell me I’m beautiful, but I know I’m very ordinary. I’ve had a few long-term relationships in the past, but none of them ever did to me—never made me feel the way you do.”

  “Tell me, sweets. What do I make you feel?” He brushed his fingers through her hair then trailed his palm down her neck, then lower, over her breast still covered by the lacy black bra.

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “As if you cherish me. Like...” She couldn’t open her soul so much so soon. She barely knew the man. He made her believe he was the one who would fulfill all her fantasies, sweep her off her feet, grow old with her.

  “I do cherish you. I cherish your smile, your laughter, your kind, gentle heart.” He leaned forward and grazed his lips against her cheek. “Never doubt what I feel for you.”

  “That’s just it,” she said as she pulled away. “How can you feel anything? We just met. I never sleep with a guy—oh, shit! Dante, we didn’t use protection.” Her chest tightened, and she thought she might have a panic attack. She never slept with a guy on the first date, and she sure as hell never slept with one without a condom. Ever.

  “Shh, sweets.” He pulled her back down against his chest and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Do not worry. I am sterile. You will not become pregnant. And I promise you, I am disease free.”

  She jerked back to look into his face once again. He was too calm. “Sterile? But you’re so young. How can you be sterile? And how do you know you don’t have something? Good Lord, the way you make love, you’ve got a ton of experience and have probably been with hundreds of women.”

  He chuckled. “I have been sterile most of my lifetime. It is something I have come to accept. I told you before I am not as young as I seem. And as for diseases—” He shrugged. “I am clean. I know that for a fact.”

  “You’ve been tested? When was your last STD test?” She’d have to get Dr. Thompson to draw her blood tomorrow. How could she have been so stupid?

  “Do you doubt my word?” Dante asked softly, making her focus on him again.

  No, she really didn’t doubt his word. But still, it was stupid to have unprotected sex under any circumstances. She worked in a doctor’s office for goodness sake. She’d seen everything from syphilis to crabs. She shivered. To AIDS.

  “I would never do anything to harm you, Wendy. You must believe me.”

  The scariest part of it was that she did believe him. And she trusted him. She just didn’t know why.

  “What happens now?” She squeezed her eyes shut as soon as the words were out. Insecure and needy. Great girlfriend material. She waited for him to run.

  Instead, he kissed her forehead, and she could feel his smile against her skin. “Now, we must head back downstairs before your niece comes looking for you and finds you in my bed mostly naked.”

  She groaned. “I can’t believe I had sex with her right downstairs.”

  Dante laughed. “Digger kept her occupied, I am sure. He loves kids. Come with me.” He sat up and took her hand. When she stood next to him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her through the room. “Watch your eyes. I’m turning on the light.”

  She squinted as the bright bulbs in an attached bathroom came on. Then she watched Dante as he pulled a fluffy washcloth from the cabinet over the toilet and ran it under warm water in the sink. He was so absolutely gorgeous. His slacks hung low on his hips, and his shirt was open, revealing washboard abs and pecs she wanted to get her teeth into again.

  Without a word, he turned to her and slowly, gently, smoothed the cloth over her chest, shoulders, the swells of her breasts, and then down her belly.

  When he rinsed it and returned to lightly swipe it between her thighs, her pussy was still so sensitive that the lightest touch made her moan and grab him for support. Her breath caught.

  “I do not believe I have ever met a woman quite as responsive as you. I wish we had all night so that I might explore every inch of your body.”

  “Stop it,” she said on a sigh as he rinsed the cloth again.

  He leaned over the sink and washed his face then reached for his toothbrush, which sat in a cup on the edge. Not only gorgeous, but hygienic as well. She almost laughed at her thoughts.

  When he was finished, he wiped his face with a dry cloth he pulled from the towel rack behind her, and then he gathered her in his arms and kissed her deep. His minty tongue glided over hers, and she melted into him. So easily he rekindled the tinder of her need for him.

  He lifted his head and smiled. “I have seen a hundred expressions on your face since I met you, but this one is my favorite.”

  Trying to gather her wits, she raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  He slowly nodded. “It is primal. Lust and longing.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Do you work on Saturdays?”

  The change of subject caught her off guard, and she laughed. She hoped he was asking so that Friday night they could do more of this. “No. Monday through Friday.”

  “Do you have plans for Friday night?”

&nbs
p; She grinned. “No. I’m free.”

  “Not anymore. Come over for supper.” He kissed her again. “Dessert.” His tongue traced the edge of her bottom lip, making her shiver. “And breakfast.”

  She sighed. “What about Digger?”

  He lifted his head, and his dark eyes glittered with humor. “You wish for a threesome?”

  She laughed and pulled away, lightly smacking his arm. “And if I did?”

  He shrugged and grinned, those beautiful teeth flashing against his tanned skin. “If that is what the lady wishes. Though I do believe Digger would be a bad choice.”

  She wrinkled her brow even as she grinned. “Because you live with him?”

  He shook his head and took her hand, leading her back into the darker bedroom. “No. Because he’d be more interested in getting into my pants than yours.”

  “Oh.” She laughed. “I see. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t want a threesome then.”

  “Sit,” he said, aiming her for the bed.

  She did. He picked up her clothes and laid them out next to her. And then, to her utter shock, he knelt in front of her and slipped her panties up her legs. This was all too much. He couldn’t be real. No one was this wonderfully perfect.

  “Stand.”

  She did, and he pulled her panties up. He reached for her skirt and had her step into it. Before he raised it, though, he leaned forward, nuzzled his lips against her mound, and inhaled deeply.

  Her cheeks heated with embarrassment even as a thrill tickled through her.

  He zipped her into her skirt and slipped her shoes on her feet as if she were Cinderella. Then he stood and slipped off his own shirt, which was still open. “Take this,” he whispered as he held it out for her to put on. “Sleep in it tonight. Keep my scent and warmth close. Dream of me.”

  She swallowed hard as he slowly did up each button. She had no doubt she’d dream of him, and she couldn’t wait for Friday to arrive.

  Chapter Eight

  “Delivery for you. I put it on your desk.”

  Wendy glanced back at Cathy from the open-face file cabinet where she was putting away patient forms. “A delivery? I didn’t order anything.”

  Cathy winked. “I think someone might have ordered them for you.”

  She hurried through the last three files then headed for her desk. She smelled them before she rounded the corner. Her heart tripped a beat, and tears prickled the backs of her eyes. A bouquet of white, pink and lavender lilacs sat in the center of her desk. Where had he found fresh lilacs in August?

  She pulled the little card from the holder in the middle and glanced around to make sure no one looked over her shoulder before she opened the envelope. Taking her seat, her fingers shaking slightly, she pulled the card out.

  I can’t stop thinking about last night.

  Love, Dante

  Ohh. He was the sweetest, most amazing man ever. When she looked back at the vase, she noticed a small jewelry box tied with a satin ribbon around the neck. She carefully untied it, not wanting to ruin the ribbon. The vase... Oh, goodness. She’d seen that vase in his shop. It was hand painted in pastels of... She looked around again. Did anyone else notice? They were flowers, but they were the epitome of sexual art. Who could mistake what each of those blooms resembled? Her face heated in a flush of remembered pleasure and embarrassment.

  She finished untying the ribbon and turned the very old jewelry box over in her hands. It was a faded pastel blue with a little button latch on the front. She licked her lips, wondering what it could be. What kind of jewelry did a man give a woman he’d just met and only spent one night with?

  “So, what is it?”

  She jumped and glanced up to see Candice standing on the other side of her desk.

  “And who’s it from?”

  Shit. Dante was her secret. She didn’t want to tell Candice anything. “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to take you to lunch, but this is much more interesting.” Candice lifted the vase and turned it in her hands. “Damn. Can we get any more obvious? You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.” She set the vase back down with a thud, and Wendy wanted to beat her. No one had any business touching her gift.

  “What’s in the box?”

  She shrugged with a nonchalance she was far from feeling. “I’ll open it later.” She bent and retrieved her purse from the bottom drawer. “You said something about lunch? Let me go sign out.”

  “Yeah...but...”

  She left Candice sputtering and headed to the back and the nurses’ station. As soon as she rounded the corner, she pushed the little button on the jewelry box, and the lid popped up on spring hinges.

  Her feet stopped moving. She leaned against the wall for support.

  The earrings...

  She lifted her crucifix from inside her shirt and held it up next to the earrings. They were a perfect match. Identical. Down to the scrollwork on each point of the cross and the tiny pearls. How...?

  With reverence, she shut the box and held it against her breast. Love, Dante, he’d signed the note. Did he...could he...love her? So soon?

  She closed her eyes, and visions of last night danced in her mind. The dinner he’d cooked, the kisses, the sex. He’d dressed her afterward, and then the four of them had played a checkers tournament and ate fresh strawberry shortcake until almost midnight. Saying goodnight so she could get Frannie back to the apartment before Barbara showed up had almost killed her.

  The sex had shaken her more than anything ever had, but she would have gladly stayed and played checkers all night. She simply wished to be in the same room as him.

  “You okay, Wend?” Cathy asked as she laid a hand on Wendy’s arm.

  She grinned and looked at the nurse. “I think I might be better than I’ve been in a really long time.”

  “Because you got flowers?”

  Wendy nodded. “Yeah. Because he sent me flowers.”

  “Good for you, girl.” Cathy nudged her with her elbow. “Go have lunch. I’ll sign you out.”

  “Thanks.” Wendy tucked the earrings into her purse and made her way to the front of the clinic where Candice waited for her by the glass doors.

  As they stepped out into the warm late-morning sun, Candice asked, “So, are you going to tell me about him?”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Well, why not? Is he a secret?”

  “Yeah. For now.” She nodded and grinned.

  They stopped at their favorite café just a block away and found a table on the patio.

  “At least tell me where you met him.” Candice dropped her purse on the ground at her feet.

  “At Addictions the other night after you ditched me.”

  Her friend’s face looked as if it had turned to stone. “I told you I was sorry.”

  Wendy nodded. “I know, but it was still wrong.”

  “So now you’re punishing me by not telling me about some guy who’s sending you sexy vases and jewelry?”

  The waitress brought ice water with lemon wedges and set two menus on the table.

  “Thanks,” Wendy muttered to the waitress. To Candice she said, “No, I’m not punishing you. I just don’t want to...jinx it. It’s too new.” He was too wonderful. And maybe she was still a little peeved at her friend.

  Candice’s blonde eyebrows rose. “You’re not superstitious. Is he hideously ugly or something? Has to send you gifts to bribe you into bed?”

  Wendy shrugged. Let Candice believe what she would. She wasn’t about to share any details. None. Not the fact he was the most incredibly handsome man in the world, looked ten years younger than her, or that he had Casanova beat in the bedroom by a long shot.

  Well, she assumed he did. She grinned. She hadn’t been with a whole lot of men in her life, but Dante was a million times better than anyone else she’d ever been with.

  Candice sighed. “Oookay. At least you’re smiling. That’s a change.”

  Wendy frowned at
her friend. “What’s that mean?”

  “It means for months now you’ve been mopey and depressed. It’s good to see you smiling. Even if he is butt ugly.”

  “He’s not ugly,” she blurted out then laughed.

  “Good to hear.” Candice picked up her menu. “So, what’s Dante look like?”

  A prickle went down her spine as dread spread through her at the rate of a raging river. “How do you know his name?”

  Candice lowered the menu and rolled her eyes. “I read the card.”

  Wendy sighed in relief. She shouldn’t be so paranoid about her best friend, but history did have a way of proving Candice couldn’t be trusted around men.

  “Anywhoo... A couple girls from work are going to The Starlight on Friday night, and I wondered if you wanted to come along. I think I’ll get the chicken salad. What are you having?”

  “Same. And no, I can’t Friday. But thanks for the offer.” As if she’d want to go out with Candice again—and to a nightclub no less—and a bunch of her perfectly manicured spa friends.

  “Date?”

  Wendy nodded.

  “Where are you going?”

  None of your business.

  “Come on, Wend. Tell me something. What’s he do for a living? Where’s he live? Why is he signing a card Love, Dante if you just met him last Friday?”

  “He’s cooking me dinner at his house in Queen Anne. And he’s an antique dealer.” That was as much as she was going to share. End of discussion.

  “Queen Anne? Holy shit. You go, girl!”

  Wendy chuckled and turned her attention to the waitress when she returned. Love, Dante. She ordered her chicken salad sandwich and leaned back in the plastic deck chair with a smile. She could see herself falling in love with him. Hell, after the wonderful night they’d had, she was probably already halfway there.

  —

  Thursday mornings Dante spent in the storage room filing new stock, deciding what to move to the showroom and what to remove. When the phone rang, he stopped in the middle of lifting a box of very rare, very expensive hand-blown fifteenth-century vases. He hadn’t opened the shop yet, so he hadn’t taken the phone off the answering service. Whoever was calling had his private line.