"No, but you inherited it, so that makes it yours."
Dante wanted to refute that, but he figured it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut regarding family business. He nodded, jingling the car key. "You'll get your money tomorrow."
"I trust I will."
Trust. There went that word again.
The guy dished it out way too easily.
Dante climbed behind the wheel and shut the door, adjusting himself in the seat before pressing the button to start the engine. The moment it came to life, a smile lit his face.
It felt good, he thought, to throw caution to the wind. To not be so damn careful all the time. To let his paranoia subside as adrenaline kicked in.
It felt good to live.
Chapter Fourteen
It drizzled, a sprinkling of rain falling from the overcast Manhattan sky when Gabriella stepped out of the hospital a few minutes past seven in the morning. She had the next four days off and intended to spend them pants-less inside of her apartment, drowning in take-out and rotting her brain with television.
She couldn't wait.
Scouring through her bag, she shifted her hoard of crap around, searching for her MetroCard, as she took a few steps away from the entrance. Hairbrush. Bag of candy. Even an extra pair of socks. Everything except what she sought.
Where the heck is my card?
"Good morning."
She stalled at the sound of that voice. Dante stood along the sidewalk, dressed impeccably in the makings of a suit. The tie was missing, as was the coat, but the rest of it was accounted for, bright white and sleek black, slightly damp from the weather. "Where's your umbrella?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Where's yours?"
"I didn't spend weeks in the hospital," she said, looking back into her bag. "Nor am I still recovering from a stab wound that got treated in a friggin bathroom. I didn't defy death in a basement somewhere, my organs used as punching bags, which means my immune system isn't the one that's still compromised."
"I'm perfectly fine," Dante said. "Good as new again."
She scoffed. "If new is like, secondhand garage sale-level shape, I might agree with that. You're a threadbare human being, barely held together with just a few strings."
Despite her seriousness, Dante laughed at that, the genuine kind of laugh that caught her attention, forcing her eyes right to him. He glowed, lighting up the gloomy morning so much that she was surprised he didn't cause a rainbow.
Ugh, I'm ridiculous. He's just a guy. A friggin gorgeous guy, but still... a guy. A dangerous guy, at that. A reckless idiot. If Evel Knievel and Michael Corleone made a baby, if that were in any way scientifically possible, they'd spit out Dante Galante. Guaran-friggin-teed.
Shaking her head, she went back to searching through her bag.
"What are you looking for?"
"MetroCard," she said.
"Forget about it," he said. "Let me drive you."
"You don't have to do that."
"I know," he said. "That's the beauty of it. I don't have to do anything. Nobody can make me do a damn thing anymore."
Gabriella knew of a few people who would've been more than happy to prove him wrong about that.
"But I'd like to take you home," he continued. "I promise to be a perfect gentleman. Hands to myself. Eyes on the road. Safety first and all that."
Giving up her search, Gabriella eyed him. "I guess there's nothing wrong with letting you drive me since we're friends."
He smirked. "The kind with benefits now?"
"Ugh, there are no benefits to being your friend, Dante."
"Ah, that's cruel," he said. "There are plenty of benefits."
"Like what?"
"Like rides home from work."
"Fine, okay, that's a nice perk."
He held his hand out to her. The skin was rough, his knuckles still bruised from whatever he'd last punched—likely a person. That hand seemed to frequently inflict damage, but it had also touched her, caressing her, bringing her breathtaking pleasure. Such a contradiction.
If she thought about it too much, she might panic, so Gabriella opted to not think about it for another second. She slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed, like a silent thank you for surrendering.
He pulled her closer, tugging on her hand, moving it around behind his back so she stood right up against him. His head tilted, his eyes darting to her lips, and the flood of panic kicked in… oh, crap!
"So, where's your car?" she asked, twisting her own arm trying to put some space between them, as she looked all around, everywhere but at him, evading his kiss. "I don't see it."