Breaking Her (Love is War #2) (35 page)

It wasn't un-calculated.
 
Of course not.
 
Territory.
 
Marked.
 
Simple but irresistible.

And all the while, something inside of me had begun to rage, incessantly, powerfully.
 

Oh yes.
 
I was jealous.
 

When I finally wrenched my mouth away, he bent and started kissing my neck, his hands rubbing my ass, over and over, our groins flush, his stiff erection digging into me.

Okay, yeah, I'd let it go a touch too far.
 
We hadn't seen each other in a month.
 
Clearly with that much time apart we shouldn't have had our first meeting in public.
 

"Dante," I said quietly.
 
I was going for composed, but even I could hear the desire in my voice.
 

He groaned and kissed his way up to my jaw.

Gently but firmly, I pushed him away.

His glassy eyes just stared at me, dazed, for a solid thirty seconds before they began to clear.
 

He blinked a few times and started to curse, dragging a hand through his hair.
 

I gave him and myself some time to compose ourselves before I finally spoke.
 
"I've been at your apartment since six.
 
Waiting for you.
 
How's Tiffany?"
 
I let my tone say what my words didn't.

He seemed to realize for the first time that he was in some deep shit.
   

"Scarlett!" Tiffany called out cheerfully, still sitting at their table.
 
"So happy you could join us!"

Us.
 
The sting of
that
would linger.

Don't let her see how she affects you
, I told myself.
 

Don't let her see how he weakens you.
 
Don't give her anything.
 

Nothing had changed between Tiffany and me.
 
I still saw her as the enemy.
 
Time and distance hadn't altered that, though this was the first time I'd caught her infringing on my territory while I was away.
 

Twice she'd come to visit while I was still living with Dante.
 
I wondered with no small amount of furious dread just how often she came to visit now that I was gone.
 

"Tiffany," I said without an ounce of friendliness.
 
"What are you up to?"
 

"Oh, you know how it is.
 
Still attending Barnard.
 
Family tradition and all that, but at least I'm almost finished.
 
Soon I'll be able to visit as often as I please."

Comforting that.

"But enough about me.
 
What have you been up to?
 
Still waitressing?"
 

I looked at Dante.
 
I didn't have to say a word.
 
My face said it all.
 

"I was here studying," he told me, tone careful.
 
"She found me here a few hours ago.
 
I didn't know she was coming to town."

"Does she visit you like this often?"
 
I asked, voice sharp, my wide smile sharper.
 
It was a grin meant to dazzle.
 
And cut.
 
It captures the eye and blinds it.

"Never," he said succinctly, fervently, with the intent of a man set on avoiding disaster.
 
"Not since you left."
   

I looked at Tiffany.
 

"Oh yeah," she waved her hand in the air.
 
"Whatever he says."
 

I knew she was trying to goad me, trying to make me think Dante was lying to me.
 
I knew that and it didn't surprise me.
 
It was very typical Tiffany.
 
What I found interesting was Dante's reaction to her words.
 

He started, staring at her like he was finally starting to fucking get it.
 

Yeah, you ass,
I wanted to say.
 
That's who she is.
 
An instigating piece of work just like your mother.
 

But even with the inner tirade, his reaction was gratifying enough to act as a last ditch effort at averting the fallout that I felt building up in my chest like a scream that just had to escape.

I hated that she was here.
 
Hated it.
 
But maybe it would serve some purpose, if it helped Dante see just what she was.
 

With that thought in mind, I pulled up a chair.
 
"So what are you doing here, Tiffany?" I asked her bluntly, my tone as unfriendly as I felt.

She feigned surprise at my hostile manner.
 
"Oh my.
 
Is something the matter, Scarlett?
 
You seem upset."
 
She smiled.
 

And just like that.
 
There it was again.
 
Hello, temper.

"What could possibly be wrong?" I asked her, heavy on the sarcasm.
 
My eyes swung to Dante, who'd just taken the seat across from me.
 
"Whatever could be the matter?" I asked him mockingly.
 

He folded his arms across his chest, jaw clenching, eyes hard on me.
 
I could tell that his own hellish temper was ready to come out and play.
 

"Again," I said bitingly, "why are you here, Tiffany?"
 

She pursed her lips and answered, "Just visiting my friend.
 
Is that a crime?
 
He
doesn't mind when I visit.
 
And who made you his boss?
 
He's not your
property
, Scarlett."

I smiled at her, bringing up my ring hand to tap a finger at my jaw, making sure the huge as hell rock on my finger was given proper notice.
 
She saw it, oh yes.
 
Her eyes widened, and for a second she couldn't hide an honest look of dismay.

My smile grew even as I heard Dante let loose with a soft round of cursing.
 

"Funny you should mention
property
," I said.
 
Yeah, I was being a bitch.
 

She needed to be put in her place.

Bitch was about the right speed for that.
   

She'd gone pale.
 
She looked like she might become ill.
 
"When did that happen?" she asked, nearly spitting out the words.

I didn't even try to touch that one.

"Aren't you going to congratulate us?" I countered with instead.

She didn't bother.
 
The engagement bombshell had been enough to knock her off kilter.
 
It was refreshing to see her usually serene facade slip so completely.
 

I hoped, quite wholeheartedly, that Dante was taking note.
   

"It doesn't
matter
," Tiffany said derisively.
 
"You still don't own him."
 

"It doesn't make you happy," I said with relish.
 
"But it
matters
.
 
And yes, I fucking do."
 

Her reaction was interesting and if I was being spiteful (newsflash: I was), amusing as hell.

She got up and practically ran from the place, fleeing without giving me so much as a backward glance.
   

I was still wearing a triumphant grin when I caught the look on Dante's face.
   

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" he asked, looking beyond pissed and into desperately furious.
 
"My mother will know about that ring within the hour.
 
Do you even understand the kind of hell she's going to raise for this?"

"My God," I said slowly, tone as disbelieving as I felt.
 
"You're turning this on
me
?
 
Somehow you're going to get out of having to explain the fact that I found you at a bar with fucking Tiffany!"
 

"You're the one that
left
.
 
I wouldn't have been alone for her to join if you'd been with me."
 

Oh hell no.
 

If he wanted to fight, he'd come to the right place.
 

"Is that right?" I asked, tone dangerous.
 

He was feeling lucky, apparently.
 
"Just stating facts, tiger.
 
If you'd kept your promise and stayed here, you wouldn't be so worried about whether Tiffany was paying me surprise visits or not."
   

A fight it was.
 
"If I can't trust you—" I began.

"That's not what I said.
 
Don't twist this.
 
It was strange timing.
 
I was here reading—"

I rolled my eyes.
 
"Really?
 
Reading at a bar?"
 

"Yes.
 
I do it a lot, actually.
 
I don't mind the noise.
 
It's nicer than being alone."
 

Ouch.
 
Yes.
 
Point taken.
 

"And she just walked up, sat down.
 
I was as surprised to see her as you were."
 

I studied him with narrow eyes.
 
"And this is the first time she's visited you?
 
Since I left, I mean."
 

"Yes," he said without hesitating, eyes meeting mine squarely.
 

"Where is she staying?"
 

"I have not a clue.
 
I never asked."

"How long was she here before I showed up?"
 

"A few hours.
 
We mostly talked about everyone from high school.
 
It was a boring conversation, to be honest.
 
I was just being polite."
 

His straight answers were getting to me.
 
I could barely hold onto my anger when he just told me the truth without prevaricating.
     

"What would you have done if I hadn't showed up?
 
Would you have let her crash at your place?"
 

The look he turned on me was real annoyance mixed with a healthy dose of affront.
 
"Of course not.
 
What are you even thinking?"
 

And just like that, I felt my anger deflating.
 
I bit my lip.
 
"Were you surprised to see me?"
 

And just like that, he let go of his own anger and smiled.
 
"Yes.
 
How long do I get you for this time?"
 

"Three weeks."

His smile grew.
 
"Best news I've had in a year.
 
Holy hell, let's go home and celebrate."

And we did.
 
Oh yes, we did.
   

I woke up the next day with a nasty cold.
 
Fucking airplanes.
 

If I'd been back in L.A. I'd have just ignored it until it went away.
 
No such luck with Dante.
 
He nagged me until I went to the doctor, who did nothing but give me a ten day round of antibiotics.
 
I bitched and moaned about it, but three days in, I was feeling human again.
 

It was a minor thing, quickly forgotten, though I'd have reason to dwell on it later.
 

The three weeks went by in a flash, and it was harder than ever to leave him again, even knowing he'd be joining me in mere months.
 

Before I left, we went to a local jeweler and found a ring for him.
 
We had it sized to fit his finger, but he wore it around his neck, right next to the key to the cabin we'd shared on our very first time.
 

I fingered the key as we said our goodbyes in the airport.
 
"I wonder how that old cabin is doing," I mused.

"Gram tells me it's the same as we left it.
 
The locks have never been changed and only we have keys.
 
But it's not about the cabin.
 
It's the memory this holds for me."

I smiled up into his eyes.
 
I loved his sentimentality.
 
It never failed to touch a nerve.
 
A good one.
 
"Oh yes, I know.
 
And you're never going to take it off, are you?"
 

"
Never
."
 
It was heartfelt, that one word, and I felt it deep in my chest.
     

CHAPTER
 

THIRTY-TWO

"Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity."
 

~George Carlin

PRESENT

SCARLETT

Dante and I were weeks into our addictive, tentative truce when the shit hit the fan.

He'd found out about my visit from Bastian.
 
I wasn't sure if he knew the reason for the visit or if he was suspecting something worse, but his reaction was bad.
 

I didn't even have to ask him how he'd found out.
 
I knew.
 
His mother had told him.
 
She'd learned a thing from her spy that would hurt him so of course she'd had to share.
 

"So Bastian, huh?" he said unexpectedly one night over dinner.