Page 25 of My Favorite Kidnapper

“No, perfectly sane. I simply know what I want. And I want you.”

She blinked. Looked around. Blinked again. Then once more, she did the most extraordinary thing.

She bolted.

She was up and racing away from the table as fast as she could possibly go. She even left her coat behind. I sighed in frustration. She would have to learn to stop running from me.

I finished the pie and coffee, giving her a head start and a false sense of victory. I knew where she lived. It was right behind the diner. She no doubt thought that she’d lock herself inside and would be safe from me. That I would forget about her, or she would try to convince herself she had misheard me.

She really had no idea who she was dealing with.

But she was about to find out.

* * *

BRIANNA

My entire body shook under the blanket, and I couldn’t get warm.

It hadn’t been a joke. He had paid off my debts. As soon as I got home, I checked my accounts. They all showed a zero balance.

How was this possible?

What was going on?

And the most important question—what did Dante really want?

I had no idea why I’d blurted out the comment about my virginity. I swore I was the oldest living virgin in the world—or at least in Toronto. Sex felt intimate and bonding. Lasting. I had never cared enough for anyone to have sex with them. The truth was, I had never met anyone I felt enough desire for to have sex with them.

I ignored the little voice in my head that said that was before I met Dante.

He was sexy. Insanely sexy.

But off-limits.

He was older, lived in another city, and obviously was crazy.

Who paid off a stranger’s debts, then asked them to bake them some cakes in return?

I wondered if Carolina knew how crazy her godfather was. I glanced over at my purse then cursed when I realized my phone was in my coat pocket, along with my spare key. Which I’d left in the restaurant.

With Dante.

I dropped my head into my hands.

I wasn’t very good at this escaping from him thing.

As if to solidify my thoughts, I heard a key slide into the lock, and my door opened. Dante walked in, carrying my coat. I stared at him, somehow not shocked to see him. He shut the door, hung my coat on the hook, then proceeded to remove his shoes and coat and come into the apartment.

“I didn’t invite you in.”

“Leaving me your keys suggested you expected me.”

“I left them in a panic.”

He pursed his lips. “Amazing what our subconscious does for us. You wanted me to come to you.” He waved his hand. “Not that it mattered. I would have gotten in.”

“Of course.”