by Anna James
The afternoon had passed in a haze of conversations with first the sales clerk, and then the shop owner, who’d contacted the San Francisco police, who, in turn, verified her story with the LAPD.
As it turned out, the owner had purchased the painting, several of her mother’s collectible figurines, her father’s Franck Muller watch, and two of Sophia’s inexpensive gold chains she’d kept on top of her dresser, which she hadn’t even realized were missing, from an online auction house a few days ago. Which meant the thieves had gotten rid of the non-value items immediately and hadn’t risked selling the pieces the insurance company would trace. A smart move on their part.
The police promised to dig into the matter further, but Sophia didn’t hold much hope. The case was a low priority at best since most of her items had been recovered.
She’d called David, knowing he’d investigate personally.
Now, she stepped from the shower, dried off quickly, then padded over to her suitcase and extracted a clean bra and panties and put them on.
After running a brush through her hair and cleaning her teeth, she donned a simple black linen dress paired with a contrasting peach suit jacket and black pumps. Some bronzer and a touch of lip-gloss completed the outfit.
She went to the desk to gather her notes. It was then she noticed the red light flashing on her Blackberry. Someone must have called when she’d been in the shower. Could David have gotten answers already?
The caller ID registered Trey’s number. He must be getting back to her. With all that had happened today she’d forgotten about asking him to postpone their meeting.
After accessing the answering service, she listened to Trey expressing his displeasure at her request. He had a point, she admitted after the diatribe finished. This was business and he was her client and she’d committed not only to this meeting, but to the project as a whole. She understood why he didn’t appreciate her changing their plans on a whim, but that didn’t stop the stab of disappointment knifing through her.
With a resigned sigh, she gathered her things and went to meet Dante. She found him waiting at the entrance to the restaurant.
He took her breath away, dressed in a tailored black business suit that fit his muscular frame to perfection. He beamed a smile toward her when she caught his eye. She grinned back.
“Right on time. Ready?”
Sophia sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm the sudden fluttering in her stomach. The butterflies had more to do with her close proximity to Dante than the presentation she was about to make. “As I’ll ever be.”
“Good.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her into the dining room. The light touch caused a cascade of tiny shivers to skitter down her spine.
The maître d’ directed them to the back of the room. It was difficult to see anything in the low light and she barely made out Lucas’s silhouette at a small table in the corner. It didn’t surprise her he had company. A man of his notoriety had lots of women.
They were almost upon the table when Dante stopped short.
She bumped into him. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
He didn’t move.
“Dante.”
He cursed under his breath when the woman turned around. Sophia gasped. Dante’s goddess. Oh no. How dare she show up here, of all places? How could she do this to Dante again?
Dante marched over and said something to the woman she couldn’t make out.
His goddess turned red and shot something back at him.
She wanted to step closer to hear what was going on, but didn’t dare move.
Dante cursed softly then murmured more terse words. Whatever he’d said had Lucas jumping up, waving his hands toward the woman and firing something back at Dante.
The goddess turned a withering expression toward Lucas. He glared back at her. She uttered something more. Judging by Lucas’s stance he wasn’t having any part of what she’d commanded him to do.
Dante muttered something, clasped his hand around his goddess and tried to pull her away.
Lucas’s hand clenched into a fist and before Sophia realized what was happening, it had landed squarely on Dante’s jaw.
The commotion that ensued seemed to happen in slow motion. The goddess yelled at both men. Lucas turned to Dante, glared and muttered something more. Dante cursed. His hand clenched into a tight fist.
Holy crap! She raced over and grabbed a hold of his arm before he launched himself at Lucas, not that she’d have been able to stop him if it had come to that. He was just too big compared to her. Thankfully, Dante came to his senses and backed away from the other man.
The flash of light in the center of the main dining room had Lucas whirling around. He ground out an expletive—at least she was pretty sure that’s what it was—mumbled something about the paparazzi, grabbed the goddess by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen. Sophia snatched up Dante’s hand and they beat a hasty retreat away from the prying eyes.
“Sit,” she commanded once they had reached the safety of his suite. He sat down in one of the elegant chairs in front of the fireplace, leaned back and stretched out his long, lean legs. She snagged the key card from his hand and turned on her heel.
“Where are you going?”
“To get some ice. You’re going to need it and it’ll be quicker than calling room service.” She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and then made her way down to the end of the hall until she found the ice machine.
What had Dante said to make Lucas hit him? He’d been arguing with his goddess, not Lucas. It wouldn’t have been easy for him to see her with another man. Maybe he couldn’t admit it to himself, but it seemed obvious, at least it did to her, he still cared for her. Sophia’s insides twisted into knots at the thought.
Dante lay stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed, when she returned to the room a few minutes later. “Are you okay?” she asked.
His eyes flickered open. “Don’t worry. He didn’t hit me that hard.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and placed the cold pack on his jaw. He flinched. She eased up on the pressure. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He took the compress from her and closed his eyes.
She sat next to him waiting, for what she wasn’t sure. After a few minutes he removed the ice and propped himself up against the pillows at the head of the bed. “Care to tell me what that was all about?”
He shook his head. Bright red color slashed both cheeks.
She gripped his hand in hers and squeezed. “You still care for…” Why couldn’t she remember the woman’s name?
“India,” he supplied, tersely.
“A great deal, don’t you.”
His brow furrowed. “Of course I do.”
She sucked in a deep breath and tried to steady her trembling hands. Suspecting was one thing. Hearing him confirm the truth was quite another. “It couldn’t have been easy.”
He sat upright and stared down into her eyes. They burned with an intensity she’d never seen before.
“He’ll hurt her, you know. He’ll use her and then toss her to the side like a used rag doll when the next young thing to catch his eye comes along. She’s already suffered enough pain and humiliation to last a lifetime. I don’t want her to go through it again.”
Oh Lord, he didn’t just care, he loved India. Her stomach pitched and rolled and she shoved a hand in her mouth to stop the nausea from rising. Pull yourself together, she ordered firmly.
Thankfully, Dante was too wrapped up in his own misery to notice hers. He stared out the window and muttered something under his breath.
“What?”
“I said it’s my job to protect her.”
Why those particular words irritated the hell out of her, she couldn’t say. She only knew they did. No, they didn’t just irritate her. They made her fu
rious. What the hell did India need protecting from, anyway? She seemed more than capable of taking care of herself, thank you very much. Okay, maybe India had been hurt by some guy, but hey, she’d been there, too, and said guy was sitting right here in front of her. You get over it and move on. And from what she’d seen in the dining room, India had. She stood up to Lucas just fine.
Sophia crossed her hands over her breasts and glared down at him. “Why is it your job?”
He seemed taken aback by her confrontational stance. “She’s my baby sister.”
The breath whooshed out of her. Sister? He’d mentioned a brother earlier, but no mention of a sister. “Say that again.”
He frowned. “She’s my sister. Who did you think she was?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe your girlfriend?” She winced. What else was she supposed to think after seeing the two of them together? All right, she may have misinterpreted possessive for protective.
His eyes widened and a roar of laughter echoed throughout the room.
Her whole body seemed to cave in upon itself. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she snapped. And wasn’t that a touch of déjà vu? He’d asked her the same question six years ago.
“I don’t know. I never thought about it.”
Her head jerked up and she glared at him. “You never thought about it? We were just talking about our families earlier this afternoon. How could you not think about it?”
He appeared discomfited by her statement. “I don’t know. We were talking about the vineyard. India isn’t involved with that and…how was I to know you would jump to the wrong conclusion about our relationship?”
She turned on him. “You arrogant son-of-a-bitch. You crucified me six years ago because I failed to tell you I was your new boss’s daughter. You accused me of keeping secrets and playing games, but I’m not supposed to be upset when you do the same thing to me?”
His eyes widened. “I didn’t think.”
She shook her head. “Funny, I said those same words to you and you didn’t believe me.”
“That was different.”
“No—it’s—not. I understand now, why you got so upset back then, but it doesn’t change the facts. I never set out to deceive you.”
She closed her eyes and tried to steady her emotions with a few deep breaths. Her mind flashed back to that awful night six years ago. Dante had finished up his business meetings early that day and had wanted to take her to dinner. Somewhere special, he’d told her.
Unfortunately, she’d already made plans with her father. They hadn’t seen much of each other during his stay as he’d been busy with business meetings, and he’d insisted on treating her to dinner the same night.
That should have been another clue, she supposed. Looking back now there’d been several, and she could see why Dante didn’t understand why she hadn’t made the connection sooner. The truth was she hadn’t been paying attention. Her only focus had been Dante.
And so she told her father a little white lie. She wasn’t feeling well. There’d been a pang of regret when she’d heard the disappointment in his voice, but not enough to make her reconsider. “Go back to bed and rest,” he’d said, “and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She hadn’t rested, of course; she’d met Dante and after dinner they’d ended up back at his place. She’d been lying in his arms floating in a haze of sexual contentment when her father knocked on the door.
“Never set out to deceive me? You lied.”
“No. Not about that. I had no idea you worked for my father. I didn’t make the connection.” She sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.
His eyes bore down on hers. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps. Lord, she had to get out of here now before she made a fool of herself in front of him. Again.
“Sophia?”
“I should go.” She turned toward the door.
“No.”
“I can’t stay.”
“I’m sorry, Sophia.”
She was sorry, too. Her hand shook as she reached for the handle. “Goodbye, Dante.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Dante rushed over and inserted himself between Sophia and the door. He didn’t want her to leave. Not like this.
What an idiot he’d been. He’d acted as judge and jury and found her guilty, and maybe, just maybe he’d been wrong—about some of her crimes.
He stared down at her. His careless words and cavalier attitude had hurt her and she didn’t deserve that. Not now. She’d already suffered enough pain if their conversation this afternoon was anything to go by. She hadn’t come right out and said it, but he’d seen the hurt in her eyes when she’d talked about her father—not Gil, but the ass who hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. Who’d tossed her away at a time when she’d been already grieving for the loss of one parent.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “I’m so sorry, Sophia.”
Lucas didn’t fight when she tried to ease away. She stared up at him. Misery and heartache still lingered in her glittering gaze. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”
“What do you want?” Sophia asked.
He didn’t have to think about it. His lips crushed hers and he drank in her sweetness like a starving man feasting on a lavish buffet.
Her arms locked around his neck and she kissed him back with a hunger that not only matched his, it surpassed it.
A soft cry escaped from her parted lips when he pulled away a moment later. She stared up at him wide-eyed. “Don’t stop.”
Needing no further encouragement, he dipped his head and pressed tiny kisses down the elegant column of her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat. Her pulse thudded and he laved the throbbing beat.
“Oh.” A shiver ran down her spine and Sophia tilted her head to give him better access. This is what she wanted, had wanted since he stepped foot in her kitchen all those weeks ago. She wasn’t going to lie to herself anymore.
He unbuttoned her jacket, eased it off then drew the silk camisole over her head. Finally, his hands were on her, gliding over her bare skin. It had been much too long since he’d touched her; since anyone had touched her, this way. She hadn’t wanted anyone else.
His eyes flared as they lingered on her breasts, then turned smoky blue the way they used to when he wanted her, and she shivered in reaction.
She wanted to feel his warm, smooth skin beneath her hands, but her fingers shook when they reached the buttons on his shirt.
“Let me.” He shrugged off his suit coat and yanked the shirt over his head, tossing both on the floor.
She closed her eyes and let her hands roam over his torso, familiarizing herself with every plane and contour. His shoulders were solid, strong. Broader than she remembered. His chest and abs were harder, firmer, and oh, the soft, silky dusting of dark hair covering his pecs. Her fingers skimmed through the swirls and traced a path down until it disappeared below his pants.
She reached for his belt buckle and made quick work of removing his trousers and boxers, then drew in a sharp breath and gazed at the Adonis who stood before her. “Perfect.”
He scooped her up into his arms and strode to the bed, then slowly lowered her to the floor and removed the rest of her clothes. Finally, they were both naked. She dragged him down on the cool satin sheets and he stretched out beside her.
“Tell me what you like,” he encouraged, and let the pad of his thumb glide slowly over her nipple.
A jolt of white-hot heat shot through her. “That, oh yes. I like that.” Her hand slid down his waist, over his hip and cupped his erection. A violent shudder ran through him. She let out a satisfied sigh, reveling in his reaction to her touch.
His lips showered feather light kisses across the tips of her breasts while his fingers glided in lazy circles over her abdomen. Her body quivered in anticipa
tion as his hands moved lower.
Pleasure ricocheted through her when those fingers slid between her legs and began a slow, intimate caress. She writhed and moaned as each stroke brought her closer to the edge. “Now, Dante. I want you inside me now.”
He let out a low growl and drove deep inside her.
“Yes, yes.” She sobbed out his name again and again as they raced higher and higher then tumbled over the edge and shattered into a million pieces.
When their breathing slowed Dante rolled onto his back, wrapped an arm around her and snuggled her close to him.
Sophia sighed, her body still humming from the delicious things he’d done to her.
“You’re very quiet.”
His gravelly voice sent shivers down her spine and had the tips of her breasts tightening against him. He noticed and chuckled. Two can play at this game. She pressed her lips to the pulse thudding a steady beat at the base of his throat and gave a satisfied grin when the thudding increased.
“Touché,” he said. “You don’t have to worry, you know.”
She planted another kiss, this one on his shoulder, and let her finger trail over the hard planes of his chest. “Worry about what?”
“I have a clean bill of health.” He pressed her back down onto the bed and gave her a wolfish grin.
“Good to know. I’m glad you’re not ill.” His fingers glided over the tips of her breasts and a soft moan escaped from her. Good Lord, the man had the power to turn her insides to jelly in the blink of an eye.
He lowered his head, then stopped and frowned. “What do you mean you’re glad I’m not ill?”
“I’m…” Her brows drew together as she peered up at him. “What did you mean?”
“I’ve never had unprotected sex with anyone before.”
Oh God. She bolted upright, shoved him aside and leapt out of bed. The room seemed to close in on her as she paced. Oh Lord, what had she done?
“Sophia?”
She wasn’t on the pill. Unprotected sex and no birth control meant… Heaven help her, they might have created a baby.
