Dante's Fire (6 page)

As if they shared the same soul, pain shuddered through her body, imagining him as a boy watching someone get hurt. Someone he couldn't help. "Is that how you got your scar?"

Dan touched his face. A lifetime of memories flickered in his eyes. "Yes. I had nights I didn’t think I could handle because of the nightmares.”

The words drove deep. Him too. Maybe she wasn’t so alone after all, but like most bad things, people kept them locked inside and refused to share. Suddenly, he reached over to her. His finger trailed down her bruised cheek with so much tenderness tears stung her eyes. “But I learned something important. Scars aren't a weakness, Selina. They're signs of strength because we survived."

The truth struck her full force. Her hands gripped her coffee mug as she struggled to process this new energy between them, this intimacy that made her suddenly ache to have his arms wrap around her and hold tight. To feel his hands stroking while his lips took hers.

She froze, waiting for him to do something, waiting for him to do nothing. Last week she might have made the move. Might have. But now?

His hand dropped.

"I better go." His gruff words broke the spell. He dumped the paper cup in the garbage and headed toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes. See you tomorrow."

She watched him walk away and wondered if she'd ever be the same person again.

Chapter Five

"No!"

Her cry shook through him as Dante hushed her sobs and took her in his arms. The first few nights he kept his distance, and only allowed himself to hold her hand. There were stringent rules regarding building back a woman's trust. Selina was especially vulnerable only because of her strength, and her ability to push past barriers she regarded as weakness. He wasn't surprised her dreams were worse than most, since she dealt with many of her fears within her subconscious.

This time, he sat on the bed and held her. The softness of her curves cradled his hard muscles. The delicious scent of vanilla and sandalwood rose to his nostrils in drunken pleasure. He buried his face in her silky hair and rocked her, soothing away her tears and the images of evil that haunted her.

She wore a thin t-shirt and boxer shorts. The sheet had twisted around her body, revealing a length of bare thigh. Her peach-toned skin was well muscled, obvious from the strict regimen she kept at the gym. Her breasts were small but perfect, her nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt and stabbing into his chest. His erection throbbed in demand, but he fought for his usual ironclad control.

He had a job to do. Getting emotionally involved with women was a liability and against the rules. If he intended to help Selina, he needed to suck it up and stop acting like a horny teenager with his first lover.

But, God, she was heaven to hold.

Dante took a deep breath, knowing that tonight he needed to push her. The healing only began with some emotional truth and pain. "Tell me about your dream, Selina."

She shook her head against his chest and clung to him. "Don't want to."

He smothered a curse and made himself ignore her. God, she was killing him. "I need to know. Tell me every detail you remember."

She hesitated. "It's always the same. I'm happy and safe. Then suddenly someone grabs me from behind. I try to scream but my lips are glued together. I try to fight; I try to stab them with my keys like I learned in self-defense class, but nothing works. I'm too weak. I'm too stupid."

He winced. A normal reaction. He longed to comfort her as she craved but knew that would only hinder the healing process. Dante pushed harder. "Why do you think you're weak or stupid? Those men were stronger than you were. There were two, not just one. How was a key going to help?"

"My fault," she whispered. "My fault."

"Why? What did you do to make those men want to beat you up and try to rape you? What did you do wrong?"

A sob caught in her throat. "Ed wanted to walk me home. I said no. I was too strong, too independent. If he had walked me home, I wouldn't have been attacked. My fault."

His heart tore; shred; ripped. Dante gritted his teeth and completed his job. For her. "Selina, if you hadn't been on that street alone, they would’ve waited for another woman. Maybe a woman who wasn't as strong as you were, who couldn't get through it. Maybe a woman I wouldn't have been able to save. And what if they thought it'd be fun to take out Ed, too? They could have easily jumped him first, and then attacked you. This is not your fault."

He forced her chin up. He still wore the mask, knowing one glimpse of the scar would reveal his identity. He was already playing way too close to the literal fire, knowing in a light bulb moment Selina could piece together the clues and realize his true identify. Sure, he changed his voice, and tried to mask his usual scent, but she was smart. It would be smart to back off.

But he couldn’t.

He needed to be here to help heal her. Already, those jeweled eyes glimmered with tears and grief, but with an inner strength that took his breath away. Dante looked deep, not allowing her to look away. Slowly, the realization dawned, the truth of what had happened to her, and the unfairness of the situation. But not her fault.

Selina broke. She shuddered against him, and Dante knew the wall had crumbled. First destroy, then rebuild. His mother had taught him well, and he felt grateful to use his powers to help the woman in his arms. The woman he'd been secretly in love with for the past two years.

When she was emotionally spent, Dante took the opportunity to lie beside her for comfort. She needed to get used to a man's touch again in a non-threatening way, and cuddling in bed was the best antidote to sexual violence. The layer of trust was already strengthening to a degree he'd never experienced before. He tucked her close against him and lowered her head on his chest. Her tight muscles slowly began to relax.

Conversation both grounded and soothed, so he stroked her hair and began speaking. “Have you ever seen the movie,
Happy Gilmore
with Adam Sandler?”

She paused. Dante figured she was trying to figure out the ridiculous change of subject. “Umm, yeah. It wasn’t an Academy Award winner, but pretty funny.” He remained silent, waiting for her to push. “Umm, Dante?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a point to the question, right?”

He smiled. Distracting her was the best form of medicine, and when she calmed down, she’d be able to sleep. That’s where real healing began. “Of course. Do you remember the main theme of the movie?”

This time she snorted against his chest. “Golf?”

“No. Finding your happy place.”

“You cannot be serious right now. If the whole point of this conversation is about midgets on bikes, I may need to kick you out.”

He laughed. “Close. His was midgets on bikes, sure, but who are we to judge? As cliché as it sounds, finding a scene in your head to concentrate on when you’re panicking is a good way to calm down. Between controlling your breath, and focusing on your happy place, the bad things go away faster.”

“What’s yours?”

He rarely shared personal information with the survivors he helped. Being with women in such intimate settings was a fine line to walk, and he was already emotionally involved with Selina. But tonight, for a little while, he needed the connection just as badly as she did.

“I was ten years old, and it was the last day of school. Instead of taking the bus home, my parents picked me up and took me out. They’d planned the entire day around things I loved, saying I worked hard and got good grades. You know, I hear about these big vacations like Disney World kids go on, but nothing was better than that day. We went to the park and ate hot dogs. Rented these paddleboats and sailed them on the water. We stopped at the Central Park Zoo, and ate ice cream, and then they we drove upstate and I went to my first drive-in movie.”

“What movie?”

“
Batman Forever
. So cool. When we got home, I was exhausted, but I’d never been so happy in my life. Everything was just...perfect.”

He let her process her thoughts, her silky hair wrapping around his fingers in a caress. “I like that day,” she said.

“What about you? Something you remember from your parents?” She stiffened beneath him. What had he said wrong? Did she have issues with her family and he’d brought up something painful? “You don’t have to share with me, Selina. It can be a private memory; I had no right to ask.”

Sometimes, in sifting for a happy memory, people shut down. The past was a closet full of secrets, and many he’d found were not pleasant. He craved to know everything about Selina, but he needed to keep the distance between them or he could make a terrible mistake. The most important goal was to heal her.

“I didn’t have any real parents,” she said softly. Her face pressed against the cotton of his shirt. “I was in foster care my whole life.”

Shock filled him. She was so capable and confident; he would’ve never guessed she didn’t have a solid family supporting her in the background. He remained silent, waiting for more. Finally, she spoke.

“My parents died when I was little. Car crash. I lived, but they didn’t. I don’t remember much about them, but I was in the hospital for a while, and then I went into the foster care system. I didn’t speak for a long time, so I saw a lot of therapists, and I guess I was too damaged to have anyone want me full time.”

His gut clenched. He never knew she’d experienced such pain, had always assumed her past was blessed, the complete opposite of his. Shame filled him. Dante never realized he could be judgmental until now. He pressed his lips against her hair.

“No one ever hurt or abused me. I bounced around a lot for a bit, until I began speaking again. I finally settled with an older couple, who had a bunch of kids there, and stayed. They cared for my needs but they were...cold. I think they took in children for money. Anyway, school was my outlet for everything. I decided early on that could be my ticket to freedom. And it was. I got a scholarship, finished my master’s, and began working in real estate.”

“You must’ve had the heart and soul of a lion,” he said. “Not many kids are able to transition out of that type of life.”

“Again, I had shelter, food, and opportunities. Some of my foster-siblings were pretty cool too, so that helped. But acing tests and closing big deals don’t seem to rate as a great
Happy Gilmore
moment.”

He hated himself. Why did he have to bring up that stupid exercise? He figured she’d tell him a great family story, but instead, he’d managed to make things worse. “I think you’re extraordinary, Selina Rogers,” he said. “I’d say your entire life is a happy memory, because you took what you had and made it beautiful.”

She sucked in her breath. The connection surged between them. Dante closed his eyes, fighting his desire to turn her head up and kiss her, plunder those sweet lips, gather her taste, and make sure she never was lonely or sad again. But she didn’t move, and neither did he.

“Dante?”

“Yes?”

“Would it be okay to use this moment as my happy place?”

His arms tightened around her. Damned if moisture didn’t gather in his eyes. “I think it would be better than okay.”

Moments later, she fell asleep in his arms.

And Dante wondered if he'd ever be the same man again.

Chapter Six

"S
O, what's up with you and the mail guy?"

Selina turned to Gary, who wiggled his brow in a bad imitation of Groucho Marx. The team gathered for their weekly meeting around the gleaming conference table for a mass assault of power point presentations. She glanced around to make sure no one heard him, but everyone was involved in their own conversations. "His name is Daniel." She kept her tone cool and even. "He's been delivering my mail for two years. We've become friends."

"Friends, huh? I'm assuming you don't know about the rumors."

Selina held back a sigh. The water cooler at Inferno was worse than most, and the long line of make ups and break ups in the company made for all day gossip. "Rumors about Dan?”

Gary shrugged. "He stops in for a so-called cup of coffee on a regular basis. He checks with Andrea on your schedule a lot. And I guess no one else at Inferno has long, heart to heart chats with the mailman. Everyone thinks you're doing him."

She tried not to flinch. Usually she’d laugh it off, but lately things were different. Images of the attack, of her closeness with Dan, and her growing attraction to her midnight visitor tumbled her brain into a tailspin. She ducked her head, and forced a half laugh, pretending to concentrate on the stack of papers in front of her. "Classy, Gary, as always.”

“Since you’re rarely in the spotlight, this is huge news. Doing the mail guy is epic around here.”

Annoyance surged. Picking apart and discussing her love life was off limits right now. Just the thought made her sick. She looked up. “Who the hell cares if I'm doing him?" Selina lifted her fingers and made matching quotation marks. “Give me a list of names and I’ll personally assure all of them to the contrary.”