“Lorelei.”
“What? You’re my big sister, and I can’t guarantee I won’t lose my mind if something happens to you. If he’s not a total fool, that will at least give him pause.”
Rose shook her head. Sometimes Lorelei was even scarier than Anya. “I’ll be sure to pass on your message.”
“Do that. Stay safe and get back here as fast as possible.” She hung up.
Rose dropped the phone on the bed and exhaled slowly. Lorelei would handle things back home. If there was a way through this, her sister would find it. She might be the youngest, but she had the twistiest mind out of the four of them. Rose might not like the solution she came up with—it was all but guaranteed at this point—but it would be better than war.
It had to be better than war.
She stared hard at the door leading to the rest of the plane. No matter how confident she acted with her sister on the phone, the truth was her options were limited. She had no weapons handy, and she didn’t think she could take Dante in a fair fight. More, even if she could, there was sure to be a welcoming party when they landed. She’d have nowhere to run, and she didn’t like her odds of being able to even get the door to the cockpit open to attempt to bribe the pilot.
No, better to play her cards close to her chest for the time being. There were only so many places he could take her, and if he was any other guy in the life, he would head straight for his family. That was the best bet in this situation, too. She didn’t relish the thought of dealing with Lorenzo Verducci, but she’d do whatever it took to get back to her people. Even if Dante didn’t want to put her in his uncle’s hands, he’d go back to LA.
If they were in a city, her options increased dramatically. She just needed to bide her time until then. It was the only logical thing to do. She certainly wasn’t making this decision because of how thrilling it had been to go toe to toe with Dante.
Rose closed her eyes. You can do better than that. She didn’t make a habit of lying to herself. She had experienced both lust and excitement when Dante cut off her wedding dress and she threw the only weapons she had at him—her words. She liked that he didn’t flinch, that he met her at the line she drew in the sand and didn’t pull his punches.
She didn’t expect special treatment, but usually people in the life who weren’t family fell into two categories. They either put her on a strange sort of pedestal that made her uncomfortable, or they thought she was just a pretty face who happened to be born first and sought to use or manipulate her. Either way, they all came to her with smiles and sweet words.
It had even been like that with Jackson, though he wasn’t supposed to know who she was. He’d treated her like spun glass. Like she was some breakable woman who would fold under any kind of harsh treatment. She’d liked it. Of course, she’d liked it. Who didn’t want to be seen as a precious treasure?
Dante? He didn’t treat her like that at all. The way he looked at her when she pushed back? It was as if every snarl and show of strength only increased his interest.
I bet sex with this man wouldn’t be mediocre in the least.
No. That wasn’t fair. She might lie to Dante, but she wouldn’t to herself. Sex with Jackson hadn’t been mediocre. And, no matter what she’d claimed, she hadn’t faked it. It had simply been…normal. There was nothing wrong with normal, but Rose couldn’t quite argue that part of her hadn’t wanted more.
The kind of more Dante seemed to be offering.
She took a breath and then another. Okay. She’d admitted her traitorous feelings. No matter what else was true, she was only human. Her feelings weren’t actions, and they didn’t mean she was about to endanger her entire family for a few hours of potentially good cock. Her feelings existed, and she couldn’t function effectively without acknowledging them, but they did not control her.
Within a few breaths, she managed to let go of the knotted feeling in her chest. There was a way out of this. She just needed the time and patience to see it. Dante didn’t seem the type to let his guard down, even if she played nice, but continuing to threaten him wouldn’t accomplish a single damn thing. She had to try to play the game, even if she didn’t quite understand the rules.
I came to claim what’s mine.
His words from before rolled through her, making her shiver. Surely not. Surely that was just another element of some mindfuck plan he had in place. She’d shot the man, for fuck’s sake. Even people who moved in the circles they did took assault with a deadly weapon as a clear indication of a lack of romantic interest.
But if he did mean it? She could work with that.
Rose ducked back into the bathroom and did her best to freshen up. She didn’t like the idea of walking around mostly naked, so she opened the closet door to see what options she had. She blinked. A dozen identical gray button-down shirts hung in a perfect line. Next to them, a dozen pairs of black slacks. She crouched down and found two pairs of the same exact shoe. Apparently Dante wasn’t a fan of variety.
She filed that piece of information away and considered the shirts. They were plenty large enough to cover her nakedness, if not enough to make her decent, but it meant wearing Dante’s clothing.
Ah well, desperate times called for desperate measures.
She grabbed the first shirt and pulled it on, quickly buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves. Dante wasn’t an overly large man, and she wouldn’t call him curvy by any stretch of the imagination, so the shirt stretched tight across her breasts and barely covered the lower curve of her ass. She glared down at her chest and then cursed at the way her breasts made the fabric gape. “Desperate times.” Rose undid the first few buttons. It revealed a slice of her chest, but it was still better than the alternative.
She glanced at herself in the mirror. “Well, fuck.” She looked like a woman intent on seduction, the shirt parting to give a good eyeful of cleavage and her red panties flashing in the front with every move. This couldn’t be called decent by any stretch of the imagination.
“Have a good conversation with your sister?”
She bit back a curse. She’d been so focused on whether or not she should lose the shirt that she hadn’t heard Dante approach. She should have expected this. Of course, he’d want to know how she responded to his little stunt with the phone. She still didn’t know why he’d allowed it, either.
Rose took a slow breath and turned to face him. The sight of him was a kick in the chest all over again. His features were familiar to her after months of dating, but it was like looking at a stranger wearing a mask of them. His predatory body language, the coldness in his dark eyes, even the way he wore his blond hair…all of it was unfamiliar. She should—she did—fear this man, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop the heat from flushing just beneath her skin.
Best to just push forward and ignore her body’s response to him. Of course, she would feel desire for him, even after all this. Three months ago, she’d fancied herself in love with this man—or at least a version of him. Maybe that amount of time was long enough to get over someone for most people, but all the unanswered questions had plagued Rose. She had no closure.
Plenty of closure once he’s six feet underground.
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and smiled brightly. “Yes. Just a lovely chat. She thinks I should cut off your head and give it to my groom as a wedding present.”