Page 83 of Dangerous Seduction

“Natalia,” he said. “What happened in there? Who did this to you?”

I pulled back, my gaze meeting his, and I saw the raw fury simmering in those dark, intense eyes. It was a look I had seen before, a look that spoke of a barely restrained violence, a primal urge to protect and avenge that burned deep within his soul.

“It’s nothing,” I tried to reassure him, my voice a little shakier than I would have liked. “Just a misunderstanding with some of my other cell mates.”

Dante’s jaw clenched, his fingers ghosting over the bruise that was beginning to blossom across my cheekbone. “Nothing?” he growled. “Natalia, you’re hurt. Badly.”

I winced as his touch probed the tender flesh, a sharp ache radiating through my skull. “It’s just a bloody nose, Dante,” I insisted, trying to downplay the severity of my injuries. “I’ve had worse.”

His eyes narrowed, and I could see the muscle twitching in his jaw as he fought to rein in his emotions. “That’s not the point, mi reina,” he said. “You could have a concussion or worse. We need to get you checked out.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the look on his face stopped me cold. His eyes showed a fierce determination, and I wasn’t about to argue with him. At that moment, I realized just how deeply his concern ran and how much he cared for my well-being.

“Alright,” I relented, my shoulders sagging as the adrenaline that had been fueling me began to dissipate. “But I don’t know if I can trust a hospital right now, Dante. Not with everything that’s going on.”

He nodded as he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “I know, mi reina. That’s why I have someone else in mind. Come on, let’s go get you signed out and get your belongings.”

With a gentle hand on the small of my back, he guided me towards the sleek, black Maserati that was parked at the curb. I slid into the passenger seat, wincing as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain lancing through my body.

As Dante pulled away from the station, his gaze kept flickering towards me, a silent assessment of my condition that spoke volumes about his concern. “Dr. Sanchez is an old friend,” he explained, his voice cutting through the heavy silence that had settled over us. “He’s discreet, and he owes me a favor or two. He’ll be able to take a look at you without raising any red flags.”

I nodded, leaning back against the plush leather seat and closing my eyes. The adrenaline crash was hitting me hard, leaving me feeling drained and utterly exhausted. But even through the fog of pain and fatigue, I could feel the warmth of Dante’s presence beside me.

Without thinking, I reached out, my fingers seeking his, and he responded in kind, his hand enveloping mine in a gentle embrace. The simple gesture was like a balm to my frayed nerves, a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this fight, no matter how bleak things seemed.

THIRTY-EIGHT

DANTE

I stirred, the dawn’s soft light seeping through the cabin windows, illuminating the angelic face of my Natalia. I loved to watch her sleep, her breath soft and steady, her skin luminous in the morning light.

I gently pulled her closer, her warmth seeping into me as I basked in the simple joy of waking up beside her. I knew that peace wouldn’t last; the chaos of our lives would intrude eventually. But for now, in this tranquil moment, I wanted to savor the feeling of her body nestled against mine, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

As my eyes adjusted to the soft light, the purpling bruises on her face came into view, a silent reminder of the assault she had endured in that holding cell. Thank God for Dr. Sanchez; his steady hands and quiet clinic had checked her well and concluded there was no concussion or permanent damage.

The memory of seeing her coming out of the holding cell, beaten and bloodied, still haunted me. How could anyone lay a hand on her, try to snuff out the light that burned so fiercely within her?

My thoughts must have stirred something in her because her eyelids fluttered, her lashes casting delicate shadows on the curves of her cheeks. I watched as she blinked herself awake, the sleep slowly fading from her eyes to be replaced by consciousness and awareness.

A soft smile curved her lips as she met my gaze, a silent message passing between us that needed no words.

“Good morning, mi amor,” I said, my voice a low rumble as I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Mmm,” she responded as she stretched, her body arching against mine. “What time is it?”

“Early,” I said, my lips finding the sensitive spot on her neck, eliciting a soft sigh from her. “We have time.”

I could feel the smile in her kiss as she responded with a passion that bordered on desperation. Perhaps it was the lingering fear that life was too damn short or the sheer relief that she had escaped that hellish cell relatively unscathed. Or maybe it was the consuming, all-encompassing love that burned between us, demanding to be satiated. Whatever it was, I was swept away in it.

The rest of the world fell away as our mouths fused, our breath mingling in a desperate hunger that had us both on the brink. My lips never broke contact with her skin as I trailed kisses down the column of her neck, relishing the taste of her.

Her hands roamed over my back, her fingernails gently scraping against my skin as she urged me closer, her hips arching against mine. I chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin, and I deepened the kiss.

She moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer, our bodies moving in perfect unison, caught in the relentless current of our shared passion. I mapped her curves with my hands, worshipping her like the goddess she was.

“Dante,” she panted, her breath coming in short gasps as I moved within the orbit of her heat.

I entered her, our flesh joining as one, and she cried out, her nails digging into my back as I filled her. I relished her moans, the way her body arched against mine, matching my rhythm with a feverish intensity.

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