Authors: Sariah Wilson
“It matters to me.” He took both of my hands in his. The concern in his eyes was enough to make me start crying again. Which made me inexplicably angry, and something shattered inside me.
I didn’t want him to touch me, and I pulled my hands away. “You were right, okay? I should have listened to you when you told me about Salvatore. Do you know how humiliating it feels? To be constantly cheated on? What’s wrong with me?”
He grabbed me and made me look at him. “There is
nothing
wrong with you. You’re amazing.”
I was taken aback by the force behind his words. “Then why do I keep letting this happen? Why do I keep choosing men who will hurt me?”
“Because you haven’t found the right man.”
I let out a laugh. “Much like
Babbo Natale
and
La Befana
, he doesn’t exist.”
“He does. You need someone like me. I would be your hero, if you’d let me. I would never, ever hurt you.” I wanted so badly for him to be telling the truth. I wanted to believe him.
I just couldn’t.
Without warning, he kissed me. I should have stopped him or told him no. But his kisses were to comfort me, to reassure me. His thumbs wiped the leftover tears from my cheeks, soft and delicate in a way that made me want to cry all over again. I felt an aching sweetness that made me want to surrender. A melting tenderness that turned my insides to jelly.
“You are so beautiful,” he said before he kissed me again. “So smart, so wonderful, so beautiful.” He kissed, nibbled, and teased me in between each phrase.
“You said beautiful twice,” I murmured against his mouth.
He pulled back with a dazzling smile. “That’s because you’re extraordinarily beautiful.”
Said the prince who dated the most beautiful women in the world. I mean, I knew I was pretty, but in comparison? “Uh-huh,” I replied.
“You are.” That definitive tone was back. He held me close. I loved when he touched me like this, the electrical current buzzing between us, making me forget everything else. He smoothed my hair, caressing my face. “You are. Inside and out. I wish I could show you. That you could see yourself the way I see you.”
No one could have denied that Dante had game. That he always knew the right thing to say and when to say it. But before I could call him on it, he set out to prove his words true and the world exploded as he pressed his lips forcefully against mine.
If he had been gentle and reassuring before, that was all gone. Now there was only heat and need and desire. Wanting to taste and be tasted. It was like being caught up in the most intense lightning storm, as the flashes of electricity crashed inside me over and over again. My heart beat so hard in my chest, like it was struggling to get closer to him.
A mixture of hormones, all that pent-up passion and frustration, had been swirling around inside me, as if waiting just for this moment, and they burst to life, racing through my bloodstream, making my stomach feel hollowed out. I really did want to swoon.
The stubble from his unshaven beard moved across my jaw and my cheek, stinging as he went, but I loved the way it felt. He smelled so good that I took the chance to press kisses to his strong neck, breathing his cologne in deeply. Yummy. His skin tasted like faint salt and . . . Dante. I moved up to his earlobe, and it was like pouring kerosene on a fire.
He made a noise like a combination of a growl and a groan—right before his mouth ravaged mine, escalating the already intense kissing that had been going on. I started shaking, overwhelmed, clinging to him like a raft in a storm. He was the only solid thing in a world that had gone hazy. His lips enveloped my lips, like he owned them. And me.
My stupid hoop skirt kept getting in the way of me getting closer to him. It was all I wanted, to be as close to him as possible, in every way imaginable. He had possessed me with his hands and his mouth, and I wanted more.
We kissed and kissed as the blood roared through my ears, as I dissolved from his tantalizing promises, worried that I might never feel satisfied again, that it wasn’t enough—it could never be enough.
Then he somehow managed to make the kiss deeper and more intense, and tremors rocked my entire body. I felt like I might suffocate from the lack of oxygen, but I didn’t care.
When he kissed my throat, down to my collarbone, I finally said in a strained voice, “I can’t remember how to breathe.”
“You’re not supposed to,” he said before his mouth returned to mine.
All those girls in my sorority who had talked time and time again about the earth moving and time stopping had annoyed me. I had never understood what they were trying to explain, until that very moment. Because the earth most definitely moved, and time most definitely stopped.
There was only me and Dante.
He broke off the kiss, and I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. We were both breathing hard as we looked at each other. Why had he stopped? My body urged me forward, wanting me to keep kissing him. My lips literally tingled in anticipation.
“
Limone
, come upstairs with me.”
Chapter 12
Had a dirty dream about you last night. You got stuck in the castle moat and were tracking mud everywhere. What? What did you think I meant?
There was no mistaking what he meant, or what he wanted. My heart beat even faster, and more intently.
It was what I wanted, too.
“Yes.”
It was all he needed. He stood up and then pulled me to my feet. He kissed me again, his hands flat against my back, holding me close. I held on to his shoulders, excited and happy.
He stopped long enough to take me over to one of the elevators. He pushed the button a bunch of times. “Come on, come on,” he muttered.
I giggled and couldn’t help but kiss his shoulder. That made him hoist me up, holding me so that our faces were level. He kissed me again and I loved his strength and masculinity and I wanted to thank whoever had taught him to kiss like that.
Laughter came from somewhere behind us, and I turned to see a group of costumed men pointing and laughing.
At us.
I realized how ridiculous we must have looked, in our costumes, my hoop skirt flipped up in the back as he held me.
When I saw myself the way others could see me, my mouth filled with a sourness and disgust.
I had just finished making plans and promises to change, and here I was. Doing the exact same thing I always did.
Again.
“Stop.”
Confusion on his face. “What is it?’
I pushed against him. “Put me down. Now.”
Stepping away from him, I buried my face in my hands. I was a mess. I was always going to be a mess if I didn’t stop the pattern. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep making the same mistake over and over again.”
I felt bad, I would find someone who would make me feel good, and then I would feel even worse when it was over. I would feel numb and hollow. Something had to change. Something had to give.
That something was me.
He looked shocked. I was sure he had no idea what was going on. I didn’t know how to explain it to him, but I at least owed him that.
“I won’t be pathetic and desperate,” I told him. “I won’t be the kind of girl that people laugh at for all the stupid things she keeps doing.”
“This isn’t like that.”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it exactly like that?” I gestured to where the men had been a moment before. My self-loathing was quickly turning to anger, and I started to take it out on him. “I mean, part of me thinks I should just sleep with you so you’ll leave me alone. Because that’s what this is about, right? The conquest? What was it you told me in your club? ‘Men only want what they can’t have.’”
The elevator doors dinged as they opened, and we both turned to look, but we didn’t stop them from closing again.
He finally spoke. “
Limone
, you can’t mean that.”
“I do mean it! I don’t want this. I want it to matter. I want to be in love with the next person I sleep with. I want to be with the man that I’ll spend the rest of my life with. And you . . .” I let out a short bark of laughter. “You’re are most definitely not the kind of man I’ll end up with.”
His expression was as stunned as if I had just slapped him. “Why would you say that?”
“Look at you! Do you take anything in your life seriously? You’ve had the world handed to you on a platter, and are you grateful for it? I’ve seen the articles online. I know what you’re like.”
“What I’m like?” He finally got angry.
“You are such a womanizer! And you are never going to have a career.”
“Being a prince
is
a career.” His words were terse, like he was trying to keep his anger in check. I noticed he didn’t deny the womanizer part.
“In fairy tales! You could get an actual job. You could be working for something instead of partying it up in your castle every night with a different girl.”
My anger finally spent itself, and I felt sick at the look on his face. “I can’t believe you’re saying this,” he said.
I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to say it to him. I should have said it the second I saw him for who he really was.
“I want to be with someone who will be my partner and my equal. Who wants to work hard for what they want in life. Who is faithful and loyal to one woman. Someone who doesn’t think that monogamy is a tree.”
It all felt very final. Finished.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened, I’m sorry I led you on. But I’m done. This is done.”
Another long silence stretched between us. He put his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. “You’re leaving tomorrow and . . .”
“And it’s for the best. Good-bye, Dante.” The pain on his face when he looked up at me was almost unbearable. It even managed to make me cry. I told myself that he was an excellent actor. He was a player. He knew just how to pull at my heartstrings.
But I wouldn’t let him play me any longer.
I pushed the button, and the elevator doors opened. The tears fell fast and furious, and it blurred my vision. I got inside, watching him as the doors slid shut, closing off that chapter in my life.
I had no intention of ever seeing him again.
He, on the other hand, had other plans.
I found out later that when everyone had disappeared from the costume party, it was because they were staging an impromptu intervention for Princess Violetta, Dante’s eighteen-year-old sister. Which made me feel even worse. He was dealing with something serious like his sister using drugs again, and I was having a hissy fit about my stupid choices.
Sometimes I didn’t understand why he stayed my friend.
Kat had had her own drama on New Year’s Eve with Nico, and so my focus had been totally on her and her problems. It was a good distraction. Kat had asked me once what had happened with Dante, and I’d told her that we had a close encounter of the catastrophic kind. I didn’t elaborate on our gland-to-gland combat, and she didn’t ask, too wrapped up in her own misery.
Now, here in California, I was the one who was miserable, with Dante making that crack about being my hero. It was to remind me, to let me know that he hadn’t forgotten, and neither should I.
As if I could.
Overly emotional Jen L. was sent home that night, and the next day we had another group date.
Soccer. Or as Dante would mistakenly call it, football.
I hated playing sports. I was not a fan of glistening, which was what we called sweat back home. Once upon a time, I hadn’t minded it, but ever since I gave up ballet, I’d avoided unnecessary exertion. I didn’t like hiking or throwing things or catching them.
I put on a pair of tennis shoes, shorts, and a T-shirt. Half of the girls came out in sports bras and shorts that looked more like underwear. I didn’t understand dressing so impractically. But I wasn’t the one who’d be embarrassed when something sprang free.
Genesis’s hair kept flying out of the rubber band she used to hold it back. I offered to French braid her hair to keep it down, and she agreed. In the middle of doing that, some of the others asked if I could French braid their hair too.
Dante arrived on the field that the show had set up in the backyard with goals and lines. The girls called out a greeting to him, and he waved as he walked over.
It was easier to control my physical reaction, because I was annoyed at him. Only a small heart murmuring this time.
“So the den mother now does hair.”
Den mother? I was hot. I was not a den mother.
I wrapped the last elastic at the bottom of Jessica T.’s hair, and she left, giving Dante a lingering and flirtatious look. I would not roll my eyes.
“Part of the pageant thing. You learn how to do hair pretty quickly.” I didn’t have a brush, so the hairstyles didn’t look as nice as I would have preferred, but they were going to be running around so it didn’t matter.
“Always taking care of everyone else,” he mused. “Who takes care of you?”
I shrugged.
“I would, if you’d let me.” He ran out onto the field and started kicking the ball around with the women as they decided on teams.
What was I supposed to do with that? He sounded serious, but I knew he wasn’t. Right then, he was flirting with tons of other girls. He managed to confuse me, give me false hope, and make me wish for things that just wouldn’t be.
Even if his offer to take care of me had been legit, I needed to take care of myself. I needed to protect my heart from him.
It was time for the match to begin. The show had even sprung for a referee. I was put on the pink team versus Dante’s purple team, and we wore bands on our arms to tell everyone apart. I couldn’t believe we were playing soccer. It was like a soul-crushing wade through a river of misery. How did anyone think this was fun?
I was glistening more than I wanted, and sort of moved back and forth instead of trying to actively play. Genesis was on Dante’s team, and she was killing it. She scored so many points that they called the game before it got much more embarrassing. Dante high-fived her, and she hugged him. He glanced over at me with a shame-filled expression, before disengaging from her.
That was weird. I thought he liked Genesis.
I found some shade and wished for water. I was too tired to get up and walk back to the house to get it. Some assistants were setting up a table, putting a tablecloth over it, and I hoped they were putting out food and water.
Genesis joined me. “Good game.”
“You had a good game. I had a minor stroke.”
She laughed. “I didn’t know he was so good at soccer. Kind of impressive.”
“Everybody in Europe is good at soccer. He’s nothing special.”
Ashley S. strolled past right then and stopped to glare at me. She put her hand on her hip and said, “Why are you still here if you dislike Dante so much? There are lots of us here who do like him, and we’re getting sent home while he keeps you around. If you aren’t here for the right reasons, why don’t you just step aside?”
Right then I was tempted to do exactly what she had said. I would just leave. Then there would be no more temptation, no more Dante, and no more putting up with these women.
And I would go back home to . . . what exactly? Things were not great with Sterling, and I was peeved that he still hadn’t tried to reach me to apologize. He should apologize, and he should suffer a little for it.
I didn’t think he even missed me.
I was too tired to come up with a retort to Ashley. She could suck it.
After I didn’t reply, she walked away.
“Do you think maybe she has a point? You don’t seem like you like him all that much.” I could tell how hard it was for Genesis to say that to me. I had the impression that she didn’t like conflict, and it must have taken a lot for her to confront me.
“It’s hard to explain, but I promise I will fill you in on all the details someday. And how could I leave you? Somebody has to stay here and be your bodyguard against Crabigail.”
She gave me a weak smile, but I had the distinct feeling that this was not over. “I’m going to get a bottle of water. Want one?”
“Yes, please. I would love one,” I said.
She brushed the grass off her shorts and went inside.
Dante was on his phone, off standing by himself. I thought I glimpsed Marco in the bushes behind him, but I couldn’t be sure. He was like a stealth ninja. I wondered if Marco had been around when we were out at the gazebo. That was more than a little disconcerting, to imagine that we had been watched the whole time.
Although, how could I be upset about that? I was being watched around the clock thanks to those cameras.
Dante saw me looking at him, and he walked over to me, still on his phone. He was speaking in Italian, and finished up his conversation. He slid his phone into his shirt pocket.
“Totally unfair,” I complained. “How come you get your phone?”
“I’m not allowed to call family or friends. This phone will only dial the numbers that have been programmed into it. I told the show that I needed it because I was near the end of a deal that might fall apart if I couldn’t make phone calls.”
“What kind of deal?”
I noticed that he didn’t look at me. “I’m building a club.”
“Like a ‘no girls allowed’ thing?”