Page 4 of Do It For Me
“Pleasure to meet you,” I manage to say.
“The wedding will be in three months,” my father announces. He doesn’t even bother looking at Dante before turning his gaze to me. “Be good,püppchen.”
To“be good”means following everything they taught me to be for Declan, and using everything I learned inthatplace.
What else could I expect from the same man who, instead of hugging me when I cried, crossed his arms and told me it all could have been good practice?
Dante gently squeezes my hand, pulling me from my thoughts, and leans in close to my ear. For a moment, I tense, my breath hitching, until the warmth of his breath brushes my skin.
“Just be you,amore3,” he whispers. “You’ll be safe with me. I won’t force you.”
I won’t force you.
A genuine smile breaks free before I can stop it. When I glance up at him, I find that same smile mirrored in his expression. His eyes spark with something kind, something warm, and I can’t find even a trace of menace there.
Please, let it always be this good.
Notes:
1. Püppchen: Little doll/Dolly.
2. Ragnetta: Little spider.
3. Amore: Love.
LOVE?
Dante holds my hand as we walk through the garden.
It feels… good, comfortable even.
Apparently, he’s not much of a talker. We’ve been walking for several minutes, and he hasn’t said a word. I don’t mind silence, but since we’re going to get married, I suppose we’ll have to get to know each other eventually
“So… how old are you?” I ask.
He smiles faintly. “Twenty-five. You?”
“Twenty-one. I’ll turn twenty-two after the wedding… Do you have a job?”
The moment the question leaves my lips, I regret it. What kind of question is that? Of course he has a job!
“Yes,” he answers.
I nod, unsure of how to continue. Not that I’m particularly interested in what he does for a living, anyway.
“I don’t,” I admit after a pause, my gaze drifting to the empty pool beside us. It’s been unused for years—my father never let usswim in it. “Though I guess that’s obvious. I wouldn’t be able to look after our children if I did.”
Dante caresses my hand with his thumb. “You won’t ask me what I do?”
“Nope. It’s not something I should care about.”
All I must care about is making sure there’s food on the table and keeping my legs open in bed.
Disgusting.
He sighs. “There are a lot of things that need to change, starting with that.”
I stop in my tracks. A breeze whips through my hair, and some strands stick to my mouth. This bloody lip gloss!
