C75 Bold And Daring

Annabelle wasn’t sure how the evening had taken such a turn.

She’d gone from dreading every moment of being with Dante to...this.

Sitting across from him in a luxurious restaurant, laughing softly at his dry humour, and stealing glances when she thought he wasn’t looking.

What was worse, or better…she wasn’t sure anymore…was that she’d actually enjoyed herself. She more than enjoyed herself.

During dinner, a sinful part of her had wanted to crawl into his lap, grab the sharp edges of his jaw, and kiss him senselessly.

She could imagine his strong arms wrapping around her.

Keeping her there.

Claiming her.

And making her forget everything except how his lips would feel against hers.

The thought alone had sent heat spiralling through her.

Thankfully, she’d resisted.

Barely.

After dinner, Dante had leaned back, his sharp gaze softening as he asked, “Want to see my favourite place in Acadia?”

She hesitated, unsure if this was part of his plan to keep her in Acadia.

But his eyes were so earnest, almost boyish.

Against her better judgment, she nodded, feeling a small thrill of curiosity stir within her.

Now, sitting beside him in the plush interior of his sleek black car, Annabelle tried to quiet the nervous energy dancing along her skin.

She stared out the window, the city lights streaking by like scattered stars.

The car was a cocoon of quiet sophistication, but the hum of the engine couldn’t drown out her thoughts.

“Why are you smiling?” Dante’s deep voice cut through the silence, making her jump.

“Nothing that concerns you,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose.

“Are you fantasising about me, Annabelle? Just tell me what your dreams are and I will make them come true immediately. Even here,”

She refused to allow the images that wanted to fill her mind with that suggestive tone of his.

She turned to him, her lips twitching. “What makes you think I’m smiling at you?”

His smirk was lazy and confident. “Because I’m irresistible.”

Annabelle rolled her eyes, though her heart gave a traitorous flutter. “Maybe I was just amused by the idea of treating this like a normal date night,” she admitted, unable to meet his gaze for long. “Not that I think you’re boyfriend material.”

His low chuckle wrapped around her like warm velvet. “Bella, if I ever decided to be someone’s boyfriend, I’d be the only one they’d ever need.”

She let out a snort, though her chest tightened at the intimate way he said Bella. “Good to know you’re as modest as ever.”

When the car finally slowed, Annabelle blinked in surprise at their destination.

She’d expected something wild.

Perhaps a flashy club or a high-stakes casino.

Instead, Dante had taken her to a secluded spot overlooking the city.

The view was breathtaking.

Soft, twinkling lights sprawled out below them like a blanket of stars, and the faint sound of wind rustling through nearby trees was the only noise breaking the stillness.

“You didn’t strike me as the ‘scenic and serene’ type,” Annabelle admitted as she stepped out of the car, glancing around warily.

Dante shrugged, a rare softness settling over his features as he joined her. “Sometimes it’s nice to get away from the chaos.”

She felt the words more deeply than she expected.

Chaos was something she knew all too well.

Dante guided her to a stone bench beneath a lone tree, the moonlight bathing them in silver.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Annabelle stole a glance at him.

He looked...different.

The sharp edges of his face seemed gentler under the moonlight, and there was a faraway look in his dark eyes.

“My father used to bring me here,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter than usual.

Annabelle blinked, startled by the admission.

She stood silent, sensing this was a rare moment he was sharing with her.

“This was his favourite spot,” Dante continued, his gaze fixed on the city below. “He’d sit here for hours, just thinking. Planning. It’s where he taught me most of what I know.”

There was a weight to his words, a rawness that made Annabelle’s chest ache. “You miss him,” she said softly.

Dante nodded, his jaw tightening. “Every damn day.”

Annabelle wanted to ask about her mother.

Maybe it was the magic of the night, but she suddenly wanted to know his past.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt the quiet reverence in his tone.

She waited, half-hoping, half-dreading that he would bring up Isabella.

That he would confirm what she already knew.

That she was just a shadow of someone he had loved and lost.

But the moment passed, and he said nothing about his late wife.

Disappointment coiled in her stomach, heavy and bitter.

The silence stretched, but despite her swirling thoughts, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

The crisp night air carried the faint scent of pine and earth, mingling with Dante’s intoxicating cologne.

Annabelle turned her gaze back to him, unable to deny the pull she felt towards him.

The attraction was undeniable, a magnetic force that left her breathless.

Before she could think better of it, she moved closer. “Dante,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He turned to her, his brows lifting in question.

Heart pounding, Annabelle swung one leg over his lap and settled herself there, straddling him. His sharp intake of breath sent a thrill through her.

And for a moment, she thought he might push her away.

But he didn’t.

His hands came to rest on her hips, his grip firm but not restraining. “What are you doing, Bella?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

Annabelle’s lips curved into a small smile. “Something I’ve wanted to do all night.”

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t tentative or shy.

It was bold and daring.

Just the way he had taught her.

She poured everything into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as she pressed herself closer.

Dante groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding up her back to pull her even closer.

His touch was possessive, almost reverent, and it sent shivers racing down her spine.

Annabelle had never felt so alive.

So wanted.

She explored him with a newfound confidence, her hands roaming over the hard planes of his chest.

When she brushed her fingers over the hard ridge of his lower stomach, he growled low in his throat.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with restraint.

Annabelle pulled back just enough to meet his smouldering gaze. “Maybe I like the burn.”

Dante’s dark eyes blazed with something primal, but he didn’t push her.

He let her set the pace, his patience only adding fuel to the heat building between them.

Her fingers trailed lower, brushing over the taut muscles of his abdomen, and she felt a flicker of triumph when his breath hitched.

She’d never felt so powerful, so in control.

Maybe she did have something in common with those cover girls who could bring a man to his knees after all.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Dante’s hand grew more urgent as he tilted her head and brushed his lips against her ear.

His whispered words sent a jolt straight to her heart.

“I love you, Mia Bella.”