Page 57

It all came rushing back. The bracelet, the missing statue, the serpopards. And the promise she had made to herself about acting on what she wanted. Instead, she had chosen the easy way and chickened out.

Dante had been with her throughout it all. Hadn’t left her side. Rieka wasn’t used to having people on her side, let alone someone like Dante. She eyed her new attachment. The bronze bracelet appeared dull in the natural sunlight, almost translucent. The insertions hadn’t disappeared overnight, but they weren’t any larger and hadn’t multiplied. However, the throbbing in her arm was growing uncomfortable again. The short electrical shocks now occurred every few minutes. They weren’t strong enough to be painful, yet, but packed enough of a punch that she felt them.

She swung her legs over the bed, the tips of her feet brushing the floor. Her journal had been left open on the desk. She didn’t remember reading it before bed. The memory of the previous night came rushing back—she had given it to Dante to read through in the hope that he might find a clue or something she had missed. But now, in the cold harsh light of the day, she wasn’t so sure she was ready to hear any of it. The dark carpet was soft under her feet as she padded to the desk. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf last night, but now she was officially impressed.

Hundreds of leather-bound books lined the shelf. She traced the spines and breathed in the unique scent of old books. It was one of her favorite smells, up there with the aroma of grass after a storm. There were only a handful of English titles she recognized. No doubt they were all original editions. If she wasn’t already attracted to Dante, his collection of books would have done it. She was simple that way. Rieka stood on her toes, her shirt riding up as she reached and randomly picked a book without looking at the title. The pages opened to a diagram, revealing a written language she didn’t recognize.

“I didn’t take you as someone who would have been interested in ancient Athenian boat building.”

Rieka snapped the book shut as if she had been caught doing something wrong. Heat flushed through her as she turned around, ready to defend herself…but all thoughts fled.

“It was originally written in the fifth century BCE, but my father had it transcribed into Atlantean in the sixteenth century.”

Rieka nodded. Not a single word had penetrated the fog her brain was currently covered in. She just kept staring at a shirtless Dante. Clearly, she had no shame left as she looked him over, slowly. Indecently so. Heat pooled between her thighs. She couldn’t have even imagined the Dante standing in front of her. The Atlantean was built like an ancient god. All sinewy, mouthwatering muscle and broad shoulders. Dark hair sprinkled his chest, and his Mediterranean skin looked unblemished by the sun, with no tan lines. She was pretty sure she was drooling, but that didn’t stop her from staring. Would his stomach be as hard as it looked? She was determined to find out and trace his abs. She dropped her gaze, following the ‘V’ of muscle definition that disappeared under his pants. Dante wasn’t as unaffected as he appeared if the visible erection was any indication. All she could think about was the kiss the night before. The way his mouth had felt against her skin. Hot and possessive. She licked her dry lips. The heat between her thighs grew in intensity.

“I assume you like what you see?” Male arrogance dripped off every word.

Rieka turned around so fast she almost gave herself whiplash, fumbling with the damn book as she tried to return it to the shelf. This time, when she turned, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on Dante’s face. What good was having pep talk about taking action and then not doing anything about it?

All other thoughts vanished as Dante stalked toward her. He made her knees go weak, and she was thankful she could lean against the shelf. Dante moved closer to her, invading her space without touching her. He caged her against the bookshelf. She let out an involuntary moan of desire. She was trapped, but she was under no illusion that she wasn’t in control of the situation. One word, and Dante would leave her alone. But she didn’t want that. Her heart raced as she tried to steady her breathing. This close to him, and she could almost lick him.

He was technically her employer…this was a boundary she had told herself she wouldn’t cross. But right now, she was questioning everything. And what she knew more than anything else…she wanted Dante.

She reached up and brushed her mouth against his collarbone. A small thrill went through her as his eyes darkened, and he sucked in a breath. She flicked her tongue against his skin, trying to see if she would get a bigger reaction. The need to touch him was almost overwhelming.

Fuck.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning her to the bookshelf. She should have buckled at the restraint, but all it did was make her hotter. And wetter.

“Please,” Rieka whispered. Her voice sounded huskier than she had ever heard it. Her pussy throbbed.

Dante lowered his head until his mouth brushed her ear, the warmth of his breath tickling her. He hadn’t moved. “Please what?”

She licked her dry lips, all thoughts of everything else leaving her as she strained against him. “Touch me.”

Dante chuckled.

The sound vibrated through her as she closed her eyes.

“Only touch?”

He was going to make her spell it out, ensuring there was no confusion. Somehow, that turned her on even more. The heat of his gaze was like an inferno as he leisurely looked her over. Heat flooded through her as she returned his stare. Hot and insanely good looking only lasted for so long. But she couldn’t deny the anchor Dante had become over the last few days. The need she felt to tell him almost everything, even the secrets she had kept from Rory. As if they were really a team. Her heart fluttered. She had never believed in instant love, but she could get behind instant lust. Now wasn’t the time to overthink her emotions. Dante had somehow invaded every part of her. Now she wanted to be marked by him, even if it was only temporary.

“I’m waiting.”

“You,” Rieka whispered. “Now.”

Chapter 36

Danteheldherwithicy control, but it was clear he was wavering. His eyes darkened with lust. She wanted to see the real Dante, the Atlantean who kissed her with the heat of a thousand burning suns. She wanted the promise of power and violence, the whisper of brutality that Dante attempted to hide beneath the veneer of his civility. Rieka wanted it all.

Dante stared at her mouth; his hand tugged her braid as he tilted her head up to face him.

She licked her lips.

“Wildfire.”

His lips crushed against hers. Her mouth opened, letting his tongue invade as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body to him. Her breasts strained against her clothes as she arched against him. His hard erection pressed into her stomach, and she trailed her fingers down the front of him. His skin was just as she had imagined: biteable and hard. The muscles contracted under her trail. She was doing this to him.