Page 26 of Pain and Pleasure

I grab my wine and sip it cautiously, eyeing him even though I feel embarrassed by my stupid admission two weeks ago. I'm not ready to love him out loud. I'm not ready to be disappointed. I know it's too soon to love somebody. But Dante's not just anybody, he's the god of the underworld and being with him is like a religious experience. I'm damned no matter what.

"You didn't have to tell me what you feel for me, pequeña. I can see it all over your face. I've felt it in your touch. In your anger. I've felt its energy and presence from the first time you let me inside of your body."

His voice is so husky, and I feel the blush creeping from my chest to my cheeks. My face is becoming hot and I can't look at him.

"But that's because it's just who you are, isn't it? You're a woman that loves freely, that walks through life with so much hope and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, no matter how much you've been hurt. No matter how poorly people have treated you."

He says that last part like it's venomous, like it pains him.

"Look at me," he says, but I don't listen.

I continue to stare at the table, my face in flames. His hand snaps out and grabs my chin, tilting it up and forcing me to look at him. His eyes are earnest, bathing me in their amber light. He's so beautiful that it hurts.

"Perfect Emmie," he murmurs, his rough hand moving from my chin to my cheek, cupping my face as I rest it into the palm of his hand.

"I've lived a million lifetimes, Esmeralda. And you will come to know about some of them, but others I want to keep away from you because they're murderous. I'm not ready to let them touch you yet. I don't know if I'll ever want to." He whispers this to me and my heart aches for him, aches for the man who's afraid to love freely because of the dark world he was born into.

I kiss his palm and his eyes darken. I see him start to lean forward, but our waiter rounds the corner with our food and the conversation stops there. Although it was tender, I'm still not ready to dive deep into that talk. We've shared such a peaceful and light week with one another, that I want to stay on that high for just a little while longer. Soak in its beauty for as long as I can.

He ordered us tender lamb chops that rested on a colorful bed of greens. My mouth waters and he reaches over to cut me a slice of meat before sliding it into my mouth. It's romantic and the taste of the lamb mixed with his gesture have me all but moaning in my seat.

We eat like that for a while, sipping wine once we're finished, basked in comfortable silence. I look at the large, stone clock on the wall and notice that it's close to nine.

"What club are we going to tonight?" I ask.

"One of my high-profile ones in the city," he says as he hands the waiter a large tip, holding his hand out for me to take as we get up.

"A name would be cool, too," I tease and he smirks, ushering me out the door and into a waiting car.

"Rio," he says and my eyes narrow. That's the club Ricky took me to for my birthday a couple of weeks ago, the one Dante was watching me at.

Club Rio was the best club to get into near our school. The drinks cost a lot, but the place had like four levels to it. I had only been on the main dance floor and balcony. I had no idea what else it had to offer. I automatically know that there's a motive or reason for us going.

This man owns several clubs and he's choosing to take us to not only one that we've been to, but the one closest to my old dorm. The one right in the area that my father is watching like a hawk. It's no wonder Dante needs to go there. What confuses me is why he's making Ricky and I go.

"Why are you bringing me back to an area that you don't want me in?" I question him. His phone buzzes and he opens it, answering me as he types out a message.

"It's been a long couple of weeks. I have business to tend to and I figured you and your friend would like a night out." He puts his phone in his pocket and continues to look out the window.

He's lying.

"Bullshit. You're using me as bait," I say, feeling it down to my core that it's the truth.

His eyes snap to me, anger surfacing in their beautiful depths.

"I'm thankful to see that you still think so highly of me, mi ciela."My sky. It's a new and sweet name for him to call me, but he practically sneers it at me.

I want to get angry and stomp my foot like a child, but I decide to be open. If cooperating allows him to feel comfortable enough to give me the answers I seek, then I'll try my best to do it. It certainly can't hurt at this point.

"Just be honest with me," I tell him earnestly.

He softens a little bit, but still refuses to give me an answer. So I do the next best thing that I can think of: I bait him.

"If you aren't going to tell me the truth then I'm just going to go straight to bed and sleep when I get home. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow." I say this sternly, but inside I feel smug.

His eyes flare, now furious. I want to laugh at his childish response.

"Como el infierno que eres!"Like hell you are!He snaps at me and I want to smile at his outburst, but I stare gently at him.

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