Page 809 of One More Kiss

Dante

After killinga few hours in the hotel room, I knew the wedding would finally be in full swing by now so the timing was perfect to blend in unnoticed with the drunk guests.

Crossing to the bed, I stared down at my captive’s sleeping form.

She was curled up in the center of the hotel bed like a little kitten. I had insisted she eat something and then between the meal and the anxious events of the day, her body finally gave in to exhaustion. I needed her rested and alert for later when we joined the guests in the ballroom downstairs for the wedding reception. I had my men positioned throughout the hotel. Some posing as security guards, others as catering staff, still others as guests themselves. The moment Avery pointed Mourelli out, they would sweep in and spirit him out through a side door before any of the other guests were the wiser.

They would take him to the same warehouse where I'd had Avery taken.

No one would hear his screams there.

Or if they did, they knew better than to interfere with my business. I owned that neighborhood. No one would dare cross me. By the end of the night, I would have the account numbers to where Mourelli had stashed my millions or he would die an excruciatingly painful and prolonged death.

She wrinkled her nose then twitched her cheek. Then her small pale hand brushed at her jaw. I gently pushed back the curl of hair that was tickling her skin.

There was absolutely no reason why I had told Avery my real name.

No reason at all.

She was supposed to be just a means to an end.

An expendable part of this operation.

Except that I wanted to hear my name on her lips. No, I needed to hear it. There was something about this little slip of a female I was finding intoxicating. Perhaps it was the beautiful blend of fear and arousal in the depths of her sapphire eyes. Or maybe it was the way those same eyes lit up with unsurpassed excitement when I'd asked about her photography earlier.

“Why photography?” I'd asked as I stole a French fry off her room service plate.

She'd finished chewing the huge bite she had just taken out of her bacon cheeseburger. The way she'd attacked her meal made me feel uncharacteristically guilty for not taking better care of her. It was a ludicrous and completely foreign thought for me. I didn’t take care of anyone but myself and my blood, of which there was only my cousin, Massimo, left.

She had shrugged and dragged a French fry through a glob of mayo. We had already established she was not a ketchup girl. “I really wanted to be a painter, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t capture what I was seeing. I knew I didn’t have enough of an imagination to create my own vision, so I turned to the camera. It suited me.”

“You have an interesting eye. The way you photograph people and buildings at odd, unexpected angles.”

Her cute cheeks had pinked at my praise. Behind a curtain of hair, she'd whispered, “Thank you.”

Shaking off the strangely cozy and romantic mood, I had stood and brusquely ordered her to finish her meal and rest.

There was a knock on the door. I quickly crossed the room and opened it before they knocked again and awakened her. One of my men was in the hallway holding up two garment bags and one toiletries bag. “Here you go, boss.”

I took the bags from him. “Did they have what I requested?”

After Avery had fallen asleep, I'd reached out to a friend who was a personal shopper at the 900 North Shops on Michigan Avenue and put in a request.

He nodded. “The lady said she knew exactly what dress you meant. She included a size up and down in case you were wrong. She also put all the makeup and feminine stuff in the smaller bag.”

I smiled. I wasn’t wrong. I knew Avery’s measurements now like I knew the back of my hand. I could still feel the soft press of her breast against the center of my palm.

“Oh, I almost forgot this.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a signature red leather Cartier box and handed it to me.

I nodded. “Good job. Join the others downstairs. I’ll be there shortly.”

Closing the door, I placed my garment bag over the chair and hers and the toiletries bag in the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stroked her cheek. “Wake up, cara mia.”

For a moment.

Just a single moment.

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