“Eat,” Dante murmurs when my needy stare almost overcooks hiseggs. My pulse races to the apex of my thighs when he leans in to me. “There will be ample opportunity forthatlater.”
When he licks the shell of my ear, I nearly combust. That’s how much sexual innuendo he exudes. He’s a god in the bedroom, and he knows it.
While we eat, Camille swings her legs to the beat of a pop song playing from the speakers above us, and Dante watches her with that protective attentiveness that makes everything feel easier than it should.
When the plates are cleared, Dante leans back and says, “We’re getting Camille a new coat this morning. You should come get one with us.”
I roll my shoulders forward to hide the holes in the front of my coat. “I don’t need a new coat. Mine is fine.”
“It’s falling apart,” he says, not unkindly, more matter-of-factly. “And winter is approaching fast, so now is the perfect time to get a new coat.” He stands, retrieves his wallet from his pocket, and then throws too many bills on the table for what he ordered. “The boutique is two doors down. It’ll barely take a minute of your time to help Camille pick out a coat.” I glare at him, loathing that he keeps using his daughter as a bargaining chip, but secretly, I love how excited Camille gets at the prospect of spending time with me. It’s the same blistering eagerness I displayed when Dante said we’d have plenty of time forthatlater. “Unless you have something more important to do today?”
I get instantly defensive. I hate being pushed into things. But Camille is watching me with the same pleading expression she had earlier, and I’m too tired to pretend I don’t enjoy spending time with them both.
“Fine,” I mutter. “But I’m not buying anything.”
After a brief wave to Luna, who’s on the verge of crying about the generous tip Dante left, we exit the café. I tug my tattered coat in close when we step onto the sidewalk and a cool breeze always blows me away. Dante didn’t lie. Winter is coming fast.
A warmth fierce enough to heat the nation courses throughmy veins when Camille slips her hand into mine. Her joy vibrates through her palm when she does the same to Dante.
Once again, she is tethering us together.
The boutique’s window display is brimming with cozy jackets and scarves, and as we push open the door, a salesclerk welcomes us with a large smile. Camille drifts toward a rack of kids’ jackets, her sticky fingers brushing over a pink one with embroidered flowers.
She holds it up, eyes shining.
“It’s cute,” I say, joining her in the children’s half of the boutique.
Sniffing a sale, the salesclerk approaches us promptly. “She looks just like you,” she says. “Same bone structure. It’s just hidden under her father’s dark features.” A brutal bout of jealousy smacks into me when her eyes gleam with lust during her last sentence. Dante isn’t wearing a ring, but even if he were, I doubt she’d care. That’s how predatory her watch is. “Mommy’s genes might need to try harder next time.”
I stroke my brow before mumbling out a reply. “Oh… I’m not…” I trail off when Camille’s happiness fades with only three short words. She was glowing from the clerk’s commentary that we look alike, but now, her bright eyes darken with a sadness so pure it hurts.
I can’t hurt her, so I smile before shifting the clerk’s focus back to Dante. “Who wants to compete against those genes?” I twist my lips while dragging my eyes down Dante’s impressive body. “Do you think Daddy needs new clothes too, Camille? His dress shirt is missing a handful of buttons, so perhaps he should go the full hog and get himself an entirely new outfit.” When the salesclerk’s mouth pops open, salivating at the thought of measuring Dante for a three-piece suit, Dante silently warns that I’ll pay restitution for my punishment later.
Oh god, I can only hope.
Disturbed by my inner monologue, I twist to face Camille. “Do you want to try it on? Daddy will be a while with the salesclerk, so we have plenty of time for a quick fashion show.”
Excitement darts through her eyes before she nods so fast her shampoo wafts into my nose.
“Okay, go pick out your favorite designs, and I’ll get the stage ready.”
Camille is halfway across the boutique before I can blink. She pauses in front of a display of colorful children’s outfits, and her eyes light up when she plucks a frilly lavender dress from the rack. When she holds it up, I nod in approval.
Two seconds later, she darts into the changing room. When she exits in her selection, her chin is raised and her hands are on her hips.
I clap and wolf-whistle. “Work it, girl!”
She beams silently, then disappears again.
This time, she returns in a denim jacket covered in patches of stars, hearts, and a tiny embroidered cat and a matching skirt. She spins slowly, then strikes a pose. I laugh louder than intended when I notice her duck face. My giggles bounce off the boutique’s polished floors and gains me the devotion of Dante’s eyes.
I smile at him, his daughter’s happiness too infectious to act cordial.
“If you don’t want her to be a model, you might want to put a stop to this. She’s going to put real models out of business.”
He chips at my armor with a perfect reply. “You can be anything you want, can’t you, sweetheart?”
Camille’s nod confirms this isn’t the first time her father has said that to her.
