Page 233 of Anti-Heroes in Love Duet
“Which do you like,cuore mia?” Dante asked me, his breath tickling my neck in a way that made me shiver.
“All of them,” I said honestly.
Both men chuckled.
“You have good taste,” Gatto complimented me.
I smiled at him. “You’re the one who picks them so that compliment should go to you.”
He preened.
“What doyouthink?” I asked Dante, tucking myself further into his side, placing my hand over his heart just to feel it beat.
“Mmm,” he bent closer, using a small diamond magnifier to look at the blood red diamond, the gray diamond, and the black diamond as if he was a jewel dealer himself.
“I like the gray because it is the color of your eyes,” he told me, grasping my chin lightly to look into them. “I like the black because our soul shines brightest in the darkness.”
I agreed with his poetry completely, entranced by his words and the way he looked at me as if I were more priceless than the millions worth of diamonds on the table.
“But it has to be the red,” he declared, lifting the large wine-red diamond from the cushioned tray and fitting it into my palm. My fingers curled around it like one of his kisses. “It is the color of passion and fire. The color of you. But also,” he paused to kiss me, a sudden, savage kiss that brought me to my tiptoes. “I think now you see the world in black, whiteandred,donna mia.”
“I do,” I agreed, somewhat breathless, robbed of air by the beauty of this man.
My man.
I was learning that there was nothing so romantic as a man who strived to know you as a cartographer maps new lands, always filled with a sense of wonder even when he discovered something you thought was a flaw.
“The black diamond for Dante, please,” I said instantly. “I’ll take the red.”
Dante pressed a kiss into my hair and I knew he was happy with my selection.
“Thank you,” I told him as Gatto moved to collect both stones. “It will be nice to have while you’re…gone. But let me pay for your ring, at least.”
His face changed suddenly, lips flat, eyes narrowed. “I know you can afford nice things, Lena. I know you worked hard for the ability and I admire it. But I will always take care of you. Always. Please indulge me in my archaic or perhaps my Italian nature and do not argue with me about this.”
Maybe I would have put up a stink before, but Dante was going to jail in a matter of hours. I didn’t want to spend those arguing over something trivial.
“Okay.”
He squinted at me then placed his hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
I laughed as I swatted his hand away. “I’m not that difficult!”
His smile softened. “No, no, you are not.”
Marco wasn’t alone.
“What do you want me to do, woman?” His voice was thin and scratchy with disuse, weak from the coma and his injuries.
“I want you to fix this.” It was Bambi, her tone desperate. “I want everything to be as we said it would be.”
“You told me a million fucking times not to leave Angie. You’re giving me whiplash, and I already had a concussion.”
There was silence.
Dante and I remained just down the hall pretending to read a bulletin board as we eavesdropped shamelessly on their conversation.
“Bambi baby,” Marco’s words were tender, smooth. “You gotta tell me what’s going on. You’ve been so fucking stressed lately. I know things are hard with the Boss gone, but he’ll be back soon, and he’ll fix this thing with the di Carlos.”
