Chapter 17
1051 Words
Leah
The cab came to a slow stop in front of the familiar home, and I barely muttered a “thank you” to the driver as I shoved bills into his hand. I was already distracted, my eyes fixed on the tall metallic gate
“Have a good day, miss,” the driver said cheerfully before he pulled away, leaving me alone on the edge of the sidewalk.
I glanced at the steel gate, its smooth surface glinting under the afternoon sun. I wasn’t sure if it would open for me today, since I wasn’t invited. I had no access code and no official reason to be here aside from the tight coil of frustration in my chest.
Folding my arms, I contemplated just trying it, maybe ringing something. I would yell if I had to. Before I could decide, a sleek black car approached the gate, slowing to a crawl as it drew near. I recognized it immediately; Dante’s car. I’d seen it enough times now to know the make and the model, even though I was nothing of a car enthusiast. My heart jumped despite myself.
The car eased to a stop beside me, the tinted window on the driver’s side lowering with a mechanical hum to reveal Dante, all chiseled cheekbones, sharp eyes, and a faint crease between his brows as he took me in with surprise written plainly across his face.
He looked ridiculously good, like always, his dark hair slightly tousled. I didn’t offer a greeting, wave or even a smile. I just stood there and stared at him, my lips pressed into a line. I think I wanted him to feel how frustrated and wound up I was because of him.
His eyes lingered on me a moment longer, then he tilted his head slightly. “Is there a reason you’re standing outside my house?”
I lifted my chin. “I figured maybe you wanted to see me,” I said flatly. “So I came.”
His brow arched ever so slightly, and something flashed in his expression. It could have been amusement or annoyance, I couldn’t tell. “And what gave you that idea?”
I stepped closer to the car, leaning down into the open window so that we were only inches apart. I caught the scent of his cologne, something dark and expensive, with warm notes of sandalwood and something faintly spicy. It suited him perfectly, with an edge that made you want to lean in closer before you realized you were already too close.
“Maybe the three rejections,” I said coolly, “and the fact that none of them made sense. This seems like a strange way of getting me to come see you, but hey, it worked.”
He met my gaze evenly. “I just wasn’t satisfied with it,” he said. “Especially the revisions you made in the second version.”
I should’ve been more annoyed at that than I was. And yet, I smiled. The corner of my mouth curled up before I could stop it, and I felt a thrill of something dangerous slide through me. “Perfect,” I said. “Then you can point out every single thing you hate about it. I’ve got my laptop right here in my bag.” I tapped the strap slung over my shoulder. “We can revise it, right now, line by line.”
I didn’t break eye contact. I wanted him to see it in my eyes, that I was serious and I wasn’t backing down. He opened his mouth, maybe to refuse me, but I didn’t give him the chance. I opened the car door and slid into the back seat beside him, shutting it firmly behind me. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.”
The driver blinked in confusion, his eyes darting between us through the rearview mirror. “Should I drive in, sir?”
Dante hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yes.”
The gate opened smoothly, silently, and we rolled up the long driveway. The tension in the car was like a taut string stretched between us—neither of us speaking, but fully aware of the other. I could feel the heat of him beside me, even though we weren’t touching.
When we reached the house, he got out first and I followed him to the front door, my bag slung over my shoulder. He keyed in something on the panel beside the door, and we stepped into the minimalist expanse of his home.
“Take out your laptop,” he said briskly, already shrugging off his jacket. He draped it over the arm of the sofa, and I dropped into the seat across from it, guessing that’s where he meant to sit. I opened my laptop and started it up, but he didn’t join me right away.
Instead, he moved past me toward the wine bar, picking up a matte black bottle and inspecting the label. He was silent for a moment, then reached for a glass.
My gaze followed him, and I suddenly became acutely aware that we were alone. His niece couldn’t be here today; there were no voices from another room, and besides, he had just gotten home. It was just the two of us.
A shiver of excitement ran down my spine, humming under my skin.
He poured himself a glass of something red and expensive, then glanced back at me. “Do you want some water?”
I shook my head, my voice steady. “I want what you’re drinking.”
His brow lifted again but he didn’t comment. He just turned back and got out a second glass before pouring into that too. I watched the dark liquid swirl into the crystal, then looked up to find him watching me now, instead of the glass.
I smiled as I accepted it, the glass warming quickly between my fingers. His fingers brushed mine as I took it, the brief contact enough to make my pulse skip a beat. I murmured a thank you and tried not to look as flustered as I felt.
The wine had a bite at first, followed by a smooth richness that slid down my throat and settled in my chest.
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