“I wish you’d told me.” He continues with the same deceptive calmness and tenderness of earlier, but he’s not as composed as he likes to give on. The vein that throbs in his temple betrays his anger. “I wanted to be there for you. For both of you.” He plants his hands on the counter on either side of my body, caging me in. “Is that how much you loathed me? So much that you’d rather take all of that on your shoulders alone? Goddamn, Tatiana.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Can you even look at our child and not hate him?”
At the word hate, all my protective instincts jump to life. My claws come out as when the midwife who assisted me at Noah’s birth hinted that I couldn’t take care of him and suggested I give him up for adoption. “I hate what you did, but I could never hate my baby.” I add with vehemence, “I love my child.” And no one will ever take him away from me.
His words are soft-spoken. “Our child.”
Straightening, I put our chests flush together. “He’s not your child. The only thing he got from you was your sperm. That does not make you a father.”
His tone remains rational. “If I weren’t a father to Noah, it wasn’t by my doing.”
“No?” I laugh an ugly laugh. “Are you sure about that?”
“You made that decision all on your own,” he bites out. “By hiding the truth and running from me, you didn’t give me a choice.” He strikes out, closing his fingers in the bun at the back of my head. “Do you think I wanted you to go through that alone? I would’ve been there for you, Tatiana, each step of the goddamn way.”
His words only hurt me more, but I don’t believe him. Besides, that’s not the point. “Oh, every bit of how things happened was by your doing. Man up and take responsibility for your actions. You left me with no other choice when you killed my parents.”
He tightens his fingers in my hair, pulling on the roots. “I already told you it was never my intention for your mother to get hurt.”
“Don’t try to justify the murders you committed. You knew exactly what you were doing when you ordered that hit on my father.”
“I regret what happened to your mother.” He gives me light shake. “I’ll regret it until the day I die. But you never had a relationship with your father. Don’t pretend he was ever good to you.”
Slamming my hands on his chest, I try to push him away. “The kind of relationship I shared with my father is none of your damn business, and it was never a factor in your motives, so don’t excuse your crimes based on how my father treated me.”
“I’m not shifting the blame. I’m only stating the facts. And the fact is I won’t take Noah away from you unless you give me a damn good reason to, so you can relax and let the kid live a little.”
A snarl curls my upper lip. “Here’s a newsflash for you as you don’t seem to get it. I don’t trust you, Dante. That means I don’t trust you with my child.”
“I won’t tell you again.” He eases his hold on my hair, loosening his fingers. “Our child. And I’m not asking you to trust me.” His smile is lethal. Cold. “I don’t have to.”
Because he doesn’t need my trust. He can force me to do whatever the hell he wants, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“But you should.” He leans in, pressing the lengths of our bodies together. “You should learn to trust me. Just as you should’ve trusted me on the night you decided to run. You’ll make things a lot easier for yourself if you do.”
I don’t back away, not even when he grows hard against my stomach.
My chuckle is dry. “Since when has anything ever been easy?”
He rotates his hips. “This doesn’t have to be difficult.”
A flame sparks in my belly. My lower body heats, remembering how good a man’s touch can feel—his secure weight on your body and his rough hands on your skin—even as my heart rejects the very man who makes me recall those feelings, the only man who’s ever touched me in that way.
He lowers his head, brushing our cheeks together, and whispers words in my ear. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you everything you need.”
Ah. He’s dressing the twisted arrangement up like a deal—I give him the means to destroy Leander as well as my body and everything else he wants from me, and in turn, Noah and I get a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. Dante even wins an heir in the process.
As if to make his meaning clear, he keeps me in place with one hand tangled in my hair while slipping the other under my T-shirt to cup my breast through my bra. My nipple hardens without my permission. My body reacts according to the simple laws of physics. His soft caress echoes between my legs. I press my thighs together, trying to deny my reaction, but Dante hasn’t forgotten either. Like me, he remembers the way my body works.
He abandons my breast to flatten his hand on my stomach. The fluttering of my muscles gives me away. His smile turns knowing as he moves his hand lower and dips it into the waistband of my jeans.
I should stop this now, but I want to see how far he’ll go. If he’ll force me. A part of me hopes he’ll give me more reason to hate him. Another part simply can’t say what it should—no. I’ve definitely forgotten how overwhelming desire can rob you of all reason and sweep you along, and now that works against me.
He pauses with his fingers in my panties, a silent request.
And there’s my answer. I can push him away. He’ll back off. But I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and bite back a moan.
I’m playing with fire, yet it feels so good. It makes me forget about everything else, and I want just a little more of that sweet oblivion, no matter how fleeting it may be.
When I don’t object, he slips his hand in all the way and cups my pussy in his warm, calloused palm. He holds me like that for a moment, searching my eyes as we get reacquainted with each other in this way.
