Page 32 of Reckless Sinner
I tensed up instinctively then made myself relax. I wanted this, I did, it was just so hard not to think about what he thought of me—was I cute enough? Did he like me cuddling up to him? Was I doing this right?
Dante glanced at me for a moment, and then his voice got very low, almost but not quite a purr, and took on a quality… all I could call it wasauthoritative. “Relax.”
It was like sex last night—suddenly I wasn’t having to worry about being good enough. Simply following his orders and letting him take what he wanted made me good. I found myself relaxing, slumping more against him.
Dante nodded, as if he’d just proven a theory of his correct. “I like doing things like this. Relaxing, movies, not being the high-powered guy all the time. Of course I like that part. But like I said… I haven’t had anyone to share the other parts with.”
I dared to lean my head on his shoulder and when I glanced up, Dante wasn’t looking at me, but I could see the side of his mouth curving up into a small, pleased smile. “Well, I haven’t really had anyone to share those parts with either, so… here we are.”
“Here we are,” Dante said quietly.
It felt almost like sealing a deal.
CHAPTER15
Dante
Idecided it was time to do some digging on Alan Weston.
Delaney snuggled against me without a problem once I ordered her to relax. She was so damn terrified of fucking up and doing things wrong, and when she told me that it was just her and her father, I had a pretty damn good idea of who the problem was.
She’d done something she didn’t like, because it was expected of her, the thing to do, and then cried when I tried to talk to her about it. The woman was a frayed cable about to snap.
I was… surprised by the anger that I felt in response. I wanted to shake her until she let out every single person who’d ever made her feel inadequate and track them down. Maybe it was that I had never had anyone to feel protective over before. Hell, I hadn’t had anyone in my life in years. My brothers kept their distance, trying to respect my desire to stay out of our world, and Dad and I couldn’t be in the same room without fighting.
But I liked Delaney. She was unexpectedly prickly and sassy, sweet and just wanted to be there for someone. She just wanted to be valued. And I wanted to value her, damn it.
I suggestedMaster and Commanderas a good historical film to watch that would be entertaining without putting her through too many emotions. I didn’t want to put on something that would make her cry again after what she’d just gone through. I figured that we would sit quietly through the movie, enjoying it together, and that would be that.
Nope.
Delaney kept up a running commentary, and she was hilarious.
When the men toasted to, “Our wives and girlfriends—may they never meet,” she snorted and replied, “Yeah, as if your wives aren’t banging the local hot blacksmith back home while you’re gone for years.”
I dared to drop my arm a little farther, pulling her into me. I loved how she nestled perfectly into the crook of my arm, against my side. Like she was made to go there.
Alan Weston had seemed like a good man. Someone to admire. I’d been happy to help him with this campaign in exchange for his mentorship. But now… if he was the reason that Delaney was like this, if he had manipulated her…
I had to find out. And I knew that there was, at my disposal, a network ready to find out whatever dark, intimate information I needed. As long as I was willing to pay the price.
I’d have to call my father.
By the time the movie ended, Delaney was slumped against me, practically out cold.
I stared down at her, watching as her lashes fluttered here and there, a sign that she was trying to stay awake. Her breathing was deep and even, nothing like the panicked rhythm I’d seen from her earlier.
The smart thing to do—the thing the more paranoid part of my brain was screaming at me to do—would be to send her home.The last thing you need is to get in the middle between Delaney and her father. The last thing I needed was to earn Alan Weston’s ire.
But staring down at her… how could I not? Delaney had these sparks of strength but they kept getting buried under…something. Her breakdown earlier had felt like emotions only just starting to break free after years of being held on a tight leash.
Oh boy, was I already in deep. But I had to help her. I had to find out what had gutted her emotionally. And I had to protect her. It was just… what I had to do.
As tempting as it was to draw her into wakefulness, I decided she needed sleep more than I needed to taste her again. I scooped her up and Delaney startled, then relaxed into me. She was so damn trusting. Didn’t she know what trusting the wrong person could do to you?
I carried her to bed and quietly returned to the kitchen, where I had to take some deep breaths before dialing. I hadn’t spoken to my father in years. I’d barely seen him at Vincent’s wedding, partly through design and partly because of some fistfight Marco got into.
As the phone rang, I gripped the kitchen counter with my free hand. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to pick up or not. He might very well sayfuck itand ignore my call. Or he could answer it—and demand some payment in response to my request. Something I wouldn’t want to pay. Something steep.
