Dante's Fire (7 page)

Gary shifted in the leather seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Hell, Selina, I don't care who you have fun with. But it's like the proverbial secretary cliché - you doing the mail guy. You're up for that promotion and I don't want crappy rumors to keep you from what you've been working for. Close the deal with Forrester and you got it. But don't let a distraction throw you off your game. Know what I mean?"

Yes. She did. Gary was a straight shooter. If he said there was gossip, it must be worse than she thought. She sat back in her chair as the lights went out, and the projector switched on. Her boss droned on about property and statistics, and the dark lulled her into a trance.

Selina knew she'd been distracted, but it was more than Daniel. Both Daniel and Dante invaded her waking thoughts. Along with the lingering memory of her attack, it was pretty difficult to focus on work. Her mugging took some heat off her for a while, but Selina was sure an office affair sounded juicier than a random pickpocket did, as she had described the incident.

The slides clicked. Time to get her head out of her ass. She had a few more days before her meeting with Forrester, and her team seemed ready. She needed to control her emotions. Lately, her encounters with Daniel had become...intense. He never invaded her space, but his eyes told her he saw beneath her surface and wanted more. Suddenly, she noticed the lean muscles under his t-shirts. The molded tight form of his buttocks. The graceful, large hands as he held his coffee cup. When he turned his head, her fingers itched to touch the inky black strands of his hair falling over his shoulders. The scar on his face only deepened that rough sexuality automatically part of him.

At the same time she was attracted, she shrank at the thought of physical intimacy. The most she was able to handle was Dante holding her as she fell asleep. The comfort and tenderness balmed her soul. Selina wondered if she'd ever be able to be with a man in a sexual manner again without thinking of...them.

Hours passed, and finally the lights flickered on. Selina lingered to chat with a few associates, then made her way to her office. She shut the door behind her, turned and let out a shriek.

Daniel stood by her desk, a quiet and intimidating figure. "You scared me!" Her hands shook and she tried to hide them by striding across the room and fiddling with papers. "What are you doing in here?"

"Waiting for you." His gaze raked over her face. "I’m sorry I startled you. Just wanted to make sure you were doing ok."

The thought of Gary smirking at the closed door suddenly made her antsy. "I'm fine. You closed the door.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, is that a problem?”

“Maybe. We should open the door.”

"Why?"

She let out a breath. "So people don't think we're doing it in my office."

Instead of shock, a smile curved his lips. "Cool. They think you'd do the mail guy, huh?"

Selina stared at him, then burst into laughter. "I should've known you wouldn't care."

He strode toward her and stopped a few inches away. Her body tensed as the sensual energy radiated from him in waves. "Do you?"

She cleared her throat. "No. It's just, well, I'm working on the Forrester deal and I don't need any distractions."

"Am I a distraction?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

He never moved, but she felt as if he had taken a step closer. The scent of clean soap and lemon drifted from his skin. Different from the musky scent of Dante. Yet, both of them made her senses wake up and a deep need curl from within her belly.

God, she was so confused.

"I don't want to screw up your deal, Selina." Suddenly, he backed up and gave her space. She let out the breath she was holding and immediately relaxed as if the danger had passed. "I care about you. I just want a chance to--"

"To what?"

The question lingered in the air. Something passed between them and Selina knew their relationship had pivoted to a new axis. The lines of friendship and more blurred, misted, beckoned.

"I think you know," he said softly.

"I'm not ready," she burst out.

His face softened. "I understand. Have dinner with me tonight."

The invitation shocked her. What was happening between them? And why did she crave to sit with him over a plate of food and talk without worrying about being interrupted? Why did she suddenly need to know more about the man who had popped in and out of her office for the past two years? Who made her laugh, became her friend, and never pressured her for more?

"I don't know."

"Fair enough. I'll wait."

He turned to leave but the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Yes, I'll have dinner with you."

He nodded. "I'll pick you up. Seven?” She nodded, not really able to speak. He smiled. “Can I have your address?”

“Oh, sure.” She scribbled it on the back of one of her business cards and pressed it into his palm. The contact of skin on skin burned.

“Good. See you tonight.” He turned and left.

Selina sunk into her chair and buried her face in her hands. What had she done? Complicated an already deepening complication. But the idea of not being alone tonight washed over her in relief. She was never sure if Dante would appear. He only seemed to come when she woke up from a nightmare, but preparing for bed had become excruciating.

She refused to think about her decision any longer. Maybe dinner with Daniel would answer her questions and finally confirm he wasn't right for her. Then she could move on, relieved she'd given it a shot, and they could go back to their comfortable relationship.

She went back to work and ignored the tiny voice inside that screamed “liar.”

***

Dante watched her twirl a forkful of pasta with the ease of an expert and enjoyed the view. Her conservative suit replaced with a pair of relaxed black pants, a vivid purple blouse with an intriguing tie at the bodice, and low heeled black boots. She'd left her hair down and the chocolate strands swung back and forth, as she moved her head. The depths of her eyes seemed brighter in contrast with the purple, but Dante also caught the lines of fatigue and darkened shadows. He knew she didn't sleep much, and it was beginning to show. With the stress of closing the Forrester deal, he figured she was running mostly on adrenalin and eventually she'd crash.

He needed to make sure he was there when it happened.

But as Dante or Daniel? Both identities were beginning to bleed into one another. His nightly visits pushed him to explore their daytime relationship in a desperate attempt to see if it could be real. Hell, he was in love with her, but a real date would tell him the things he needed to know. What would she really think of the Daniel who worked in the mailroom for a living, had no real family to speak of, and no real ambition? He needed his masked persona to continue his mission. This date could prove they were completely incompatible in the real world and finally release that damn secret hope driving him insane.

"I guess you know my secret now," she said.

Dante took a sip of his Chianti. "There's only one?"

"The biggest one of all. I eat like a pig."

He laughed, taking in her almost clean plate of pasta, garlic bread and salad. "About time I had some competition from a woman. I always feel lonely eating four courses while she eats one."

"I guess you don't date many Italians." Those jeweled eyes burned with curiosity but she tried to remain casual. "I don't care if French women don't get fat. I like my pasta."

Dante grinned. "My parents were Italian. I can make a mean gravy."

"Are you close to your parents?"

He kept his tone light. “Unfortunately, they both passed. I miss them every day."

She nodded with sympathy. "I think if we have a good relationship with our parents, we're supposed to miss them every day. They gave us our foundation. They gave us everything."

Her words warmed him. "What about you? They must be proud of your success at Inferno." He waited to see if she’d share the same information she’d shared with Dante, late at night, tucked under the covers. Or would she hide behind casual excuses, not ready to share secrets on a first date?

She reached for her own wine and swirled the ruby red liquid around the glass. "My parents died too. I was little though, so I barely knew them. I spent my life in foster care, but things were good.” Her smile was like a frickin’ rainbow on a rainy day. The thought embarrassed the hell out of him. Next up, he’d be reading sonnets from her poetry book.

"I’m sorry, Selina. That must’ve been tough on you. Bet that’s how you learned to be so tough and handle the men on your team.”

"Yep, I had training. Many of my foster siblings taught me how to stand up to bullies and play with the big boys. Never let them see you cry. Keep your head down and your nose clean. If you're hit first, hit back. And don't be a
Mary
."

A shadow crossed her face, and Dante knew she thought of that night, when fighting back wasn't enough. He spoke fast. "And why property? Were you an
Apprentice
fan?"

Laughter replaced the darkness. "You gotta love Trump. I fell into it. I used to imagine who would live in certain houses, and made a game out of it. Instead of cutting out pictures of cute guys to post on my wall, I had a bulletin board of mansions. I was a good salesperson too. Not to brag, but it’s almost like I have this gift. I can look at an empty lot or a space and know if it's going to work. Almost like an image appears before me. Weird."

"Like a super power?"

"Yeah, I like that. I always wanted to have my own superpowers. Always dreamed of being Catwoman in bad-ass leather.”

“You’re named after her, you know.”

She lowered her head and glanced around nervously. Dropped her voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We have nothing to do with each other.” The ridiculousness of the conversation filled him with pleasure. This was a woman he could kick back with and enjoy. "Your secret’s safe with me. Favorite superhero?”

“Thor.”

He rolled his eyes. “Girls. There’s only one real superhero to kick everyone’s ass and that’s Superman.”

"Screw you. Thor is cosmic and he'd win every time."

"A hammer? You really think a hammer can beat up Superman?"

Her eyes sparkled with light and humor. "A little kryptonite and your man is down. Can't do that to Thor."

"I think you just have a weakness for blondes."

Her laugh rang out strong and clear. Arousal squeezed through him, the need to possess her both physically and emotionally. Dante breathed in and out and prayed the moment would pass. He'd need to keep his napkin firmly on his lap for a while. "Maybe. So, if I like blondes and you like French women, where does that leave us?"

Her playful words held a hint of a question. Satisfaction hummed through his veins. She was attracted to him, but didn't know how to handle it. Stripped away from the office barriers, their connection burned bright and hot. The easygoing manner between them just added to the pleasure. He deliberately let the silence lengthen and leaned in.

"It leaves us right here. Together." He paused. "To figure it out."

Those green-gold eyes widened. She opened her mouth to say something but the waiter interrupted. After ordering the tartufo and cappuccino, he sat back. The moment had passed.

"Your turn. How did you come about working in the mailroom?"

He enjoyed her directness. She wasn't afraid to mention the dead end job or question his intentions. Dante wondered how he could answer her with the same honesty. He picked his words carefully. "When my parents died, I inherited some money. Enough so I wouldn't have to worry about making enough. But not enough where I didn't have to work. I enjoy being around people on a regular basis and helping out. Inferno gave me the job, and I figured I'd take it from there. So far, I haven't wanted to leave."

Her gaze probed and searched for the words beneath his words. "Are you afraid to go after what you really want?"

Yes. Because what he really wanted was her
.

In that moment, he almost wished he were Bruce Wayne, a millionaire with ambition, who had the option of courting the woman he loved. Hell, he’d even take being a reporter at this point. Instead, his disguise was a working stiff lusting after the big corporate executive.

"No," he said. The waiter placed the dessert and coffee on the table and disappeared. "I wish I could tell you I have a secret dream, or that I need more. But I don't." His gaze burned into hers. "This is who I am. I like my job, I like my friends, and I like my life. So far, for me that's been enough."

Dante waited. He knew his admission gave her the ammunition needed to politely end the date and walk away. How the hell could a businesswoman climbing the ladder of success settle for a mailroom courier? He'd never be able to tell her he owned Inferno. Never be able to confess he'd hired her, would promote her, and held the strings to the entire company. So, he waited for relief to flood through him for the end of this game that twisted him in knots and gave him something to hope for. To dream for.