“Give me a little credit. You might have played the clueless co-ed, but you’re not a fool.” He chuckled, the sound dry and mirthless. “Choose.”
“I’m twenty-seven. Hardly a co-ed.”
“Choose,” he repeated.
Ultimately, she wasn’t doing anything that would make him decide he was justified in tying her to a bed. “I’ll be a good little captive.”
“Smart girl.” He released her and straightened. “Don’t move.” He turned and walked to the door at the front of the plane. It opened just enough for her to catch sight of a thin Black man at the controls, but they spoke too softly for her to pick up the words.
She carefully massaged her legs, easing the last of the pins-and-needles feeling. The door was still… Except no, it wasn’t still open. Even as she watched, it made an automated sound and eased closed. She was well and truly trapped.
Fuck.
She looked around the plane slowly, keeping one eye on Dante. It was posh and generic, and there wasn’t a single thing that didn’t seem to be bolted down. There certainly wasn’t a conveniently placed phone for her to call out with. Even if she’d been able to, she didn’t know where they were going or what waited for her there. Attacking Dante once they were in the air wasn’t a great plan even if she succeeded in taking him out; she didn’t know what kind of situation they’d be landing in. If he was taking her to LA, then showing up with his head bashed in was a good way to get herself shot.
No, her play had to be the good-girl route until she had more information and an exit strategy.
Dante strode back toward her as the plane jerked into motion. He had the same basic features at the man she’d dated, but it was like looking at a stranger. He wore a white button-down that somehow didn’t have a speck of dirt on it and a pair of slacks, but the difference was more than the clothes. This man moved like a predator; sure he was the most dangerous person in the room.
Fool.
She didn’t know if she meant Dante or herself. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen for his lies, that she’d thought he was normal. She flat out couldn’t believe she’d fallen for him.
“Take it off.”
Rose started. “Excuse me?”
He dropped into the chair across from her and swept his hand in a motion that encompassed her entire body. “That fucking dress. The one you were going to wear to marry Romeo Capparelli. Take it off. Now.”
Chapter 5
A normal person would be terrified and rumpled after spending several hours in a trunk. Rose Romanov just looked as gorgeous as she had when he walked into the bridal suite. Her lipstick wasn’t even smudged. She hid her emotions well, but Dante could see the fury simmering in her hazel eyes. It was the same fury she’d worn when she shot him. Twice.
When they’d dated, they never fought. Dante had worked hard to dull all his sharp edges and not do anything to piss her off. In turn, she wasn’t one of those people who looked for an excuse to get her back up. The first time he’d seen her made was when she’d had the gun in her hand.
As a result, he had little frame of reference for how this would play out. He relished the anticipation that curled through him. Oh yeah, this was going to be good.
She pressed her hands flat to her thighs, currently encased in that fucking wedding dress. When she spoke, her words were clipped and dry. “I’m sorry, I thought you just told me to take off my dress. But that couldn’t possibly be right because you’re not a monster.”
He almost laughed. If she thought she could play to his better side, she would be sorely disappointed to learn he didn’t have a better side. “If you make me repeat myself, I’ll hold you down and cut it off you.”
Rose tensed. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” He kept his posture relaxed, easy. Just as easy as his words. He watched her closely, though. At this point, this interaction could go two ways. Either she folded or she doubled down.
They both fell silent and still as the plane picked up speed. His stomach went weightless for a brief moment as they took to the air, but all he felt was relief. They were untouchable for the moment. All hell would be waiting to break loose the moment they landed, but until then, he could focus entirely on the woman before him. “I’d hate to cut up that pretty skin on accident, but I sure as fuck wouldn’t hate to cut off your panties in the process.”
“Pig.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. Choose, Rosa.”
She pushed to her feet. Rose reached around behind her, the position making her breasts press precariously against the front of her dress. She cursed. “I can’t do it myself. It took two of my sisters to get me into this dress.”
“Why did you pick this one?”
She arched a brow and swept a hand over her body. “Look at me, Dante. Romeo Capparelli is the head of his family. If I have any hope of coming out on top of our interactions, that means playing dirty. You were partially right before. I don’t care about the other men in the room, but I sure as hell want my new husband to want to fuck me so badly, he’s not thinking straight.”
Jealousy scoured him. “Romeo will never touch you.”
“That remains to be seen.”
He would appreciate her stubbornness later, perhaps. Right now, he wanted to snarl and snap until she admitted her marriage to that bastard was dead in the water. He motioned with his fingers. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
“You said you need help with the dress.” He made a show of looking around. “I see no one else around. Do you?”
“You could just let me keep it on.”
Absolutely fucking not. He held her gaze, letting her see that she wasn’t the only one furious right now. Dante would not hesitate to hold her down and cut off that fucking dress, and she finally seemed to understand exactly how serious he was.
Rose held up both hands. “If you cut me, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Turn around,” he repeated.
Slowly, oh so slowly, she rotated to face away from him. Dante exhaled soundlessly as he took her in. The dress looked like it had no back, just a row of tiny little buttons going down her spine to the small of her back where the white fabric rose to meet it. Her ass was truly a masterpiece, round and high, and when he was playing Jackson Smith, he’d had to resist the urge to set his teeth against the tight curve. Jackson Smith liked his sex sweet and easy, and Dante had been forced to keep himself tightly leashed to maintain the role.
He wasn’t playing a role now.
He grabbed her hips, ignoring her squawk of protest, and pulled her back until she stood between his thighs. Touching her instantly eased something in him. She wasn’t walking down the aisle to Romeo Capparelli. She wasn’t putting his ring on her finger or driving him wild with lust as he worked to get her out of this masterpiece of a dress.
She was here, with Dante. “Hold perfectly still.”
“I’m going to gut you. Rough and messy. You’ll be left standing there, holding your intestines, and regretting ever meeting me. It will be lovely.” She said it so pleasantly, he grinned. Vicious little beast, wasn’t she?