I don't call Dante. Historically, I've never been particularly good at stopping to think before I speak, and I'm so worked up right now that I know I'll only end up putting my foot in my mouth if I'm not careful. But texting will give me the chance to look over my words before he sees them.Still, it takes me a very long time to get my initial message exactly right. I write and erase several texts before I finally send him one that's short and casually indifferent:I saw your interview.And then I quickly pour myself another glass of wine. I'm prepared for a long evening of drinking and chastising myself, but no sooner have I set the bottle down again than my cell beeps with an incoming text. I hold my breath as I pull up Dante's response:I was hoping you would.Nothing more. Nothing to give me any clues as to how to proceed from here. It takes me a moment to come up with my next message.And what did you hope would happen now?There. The ball is in his court. I sit back and nu
No going back.Is that what I want? To have our relationship in the public eye while we're still figuring out whether we work as a couple? To have gossip sites and random people pick us apart or comment on whether I'm pretty enough or skinny enough for Dante?"We don't have to go public immediately," I say. "I just want to know that there's a future for us. That you think we might... I mean, that if we stay together, we'll give this a real chance.""We will." He pulls me closer to him. "I never got over you. I tried. I told myself you were better off without me. That I should give you the chance to find someone who could give you everything you deserved. But I couldn't forget you.""I couldn't forget you, either," I say softly.He smiles. "I thought you would have been scooped up by someone else immediately. When you told me you were in love with that Jack fellow..."My cheeks burn. "I actually have a confession to make about that." If I don't confess this now, I never will. "Jac
Dante stares down at me wolfishly."So tell me," he says, "while we've been apart, did you have someone make sure these delicate nipples of yours were getting enough attention?" He gives me another squeeze, then catches my other nipple in his grip. "Did he know how to make you whimper with just a twist of his fingers?" He hardly turns his fingers at all, and yet the motion draws a sound from my throat that could most definitely be called a whimper."No," I manage to gasp out. The last guy who touched my breasts seemed in a rush to get on to other things - which is part of why he didn't."Did he figure out how soft these little nipples felt against his lips? Or how sweet they tasted at the end of a long day?" His mouth starts a slow, tantalizing journey down my throat, across my collarbone, down the slope of my chest. My skin trembles and tingles beneath his lips. I arch toward him."No," I say, It's more of a squeak than a word. "He didn't." And he certainly didn't touch my breasts
There is nothing like the pleasure of waking up in Dante Fontaine's arms.He's warm and solid around me. It's absolute heaven. I can't remember the last time I was this happy.Dante must have woken before I did, because even as I'm coming into full consciousness, his fingers are sliding over my hip, up my side, over my breast. He's curled around my back, closer than close, and he smells of sweat and soap and me."Good morning," he murmurs in my ear. He's said those words to me before, but they're sweeter now than they ever were."Good morning," I whisper back. My voice is hoarse, rough. I roll over in his arms, wanting to look up into his eyes, and he pulls back just enough to let me do so. The sheets tangle around my legs, and my hair seems to be everywhere, but I don't care. He pushes the tangled strands out of my eyes - I'd swear his fingers are warmer and softer than usual - until finally I'm able to meet his gaze.I don't get to enjoy the view for long. He dips his head and k
Big Barb's Diner is busy, which shouldn't surprise me. It's Sunday, and everyone knows that Big Barb's has the best brunch.I knew it would be strange, coming out in public with Dante. But knowing it and experiencing it are two different things. When I ran into Dante during my date with Dean, both Dante and his brother were both more or less disguised. But this morning, Dante has no sunglasses or hat or anything else to obscure his identity. He's recognizable to anyone who looks his way.A dozen pairs of eyes are on us as we slide into our booth. I spot a group of young people trying to snap pictures of Dante with their cell phones, and a couple of twenty-somethings at the counter keep throwing flirtatious glances his way."Is it always like this for you?" I ask him.He gives a single nod. "Often. It comes with the territory.""I can't imagine living like this all the time." I glance over at the group with the phones. "Not that it's terrible," I add quickly, remembering that he's
I don't think Jack's eyes have ever been this wide in his entire life."I know I have some explaining to do," I say. It's Monday night and we're sitting at the tasting table in my bakery. I've just broken my news to Jack over the feast of chili fries he brought me."You're damned right you have some explaining to do," he says. "You do remember how things ended between you the first time, don't you?""I know, I just... Jack, I can't help it. I've never felt this way about anyone else in my entire life. I don't know if I ever will." I run my finger over a knot in the woodgrain on the table's surface. "I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I was always meant to be with him. And I can fight it, or I can try to make it work."He shakes his head. "So that's it, then? He's the love of your life? You're going to marry him?""Geez, Jack. We just got back together. I'm not thinking about marriage yet.""Yet. Which means it's on the table. Have you thought about what that means? What kind
On Wednesday, the day before my first real dinner date with Dante, everything changes.It starts like any normal day. I'm in the bakery early, getting my recipes organized for the day, when Jilly comes bouncing in. Rather than go straight for her apron, she stops right in front of my workstation."Is it true?" she says. "Are you really dating Dante Fontaine?"I look up from the flour. "What? Where did you hear that?""The same place the rest of the world did." She holds up her phone, showing me a popular gossip website. There, front and center, is a photo of Dante and me leaving Big Barb's with the headline, "Dante Fontaine's new mystery girl: Who is Ashlyn Worth?"A chill shoots down my spine. I knew this was coming, but I guess I'd hoped I'd have my anonymity for a little while longer. It's so strange to see my face on this site, to see my name printed as if I'm some sort of celebrity. Tens of thousands of people might read this."So?" Jilly prompts. "Is it true?""I..." After
Let's be real: anyone who knew my name could have figured out where I work with a little bit of internet research. Certainly many reporters and photographers did. But now this site has made it easy for anyone to find me.And find me they do.Suddenly our phone is ringing off the hook - and not just the bakery phone, but my personal cell phone, too. I must have my number linked to one of my social media profiles or something, and before long I have to turn it off to keep from going insane.Most of the calls coming in on the bakery's main line are still from reporters, but some members of the general public are calling in, too, asking if Dante Fontaine will be making any appearances here anytime soon. Or asking what Dante's favorite dessert is. Or what his last order was.Under different circumstances, I might have found it amusing - at least until the threats started.The first one comes an hour after my bakery' name is posted."Hello?" I say into the receiver. I've probably answe
My stomach explodes with butterflies - but I'm not sure whether I'm excited or anxious as Dante slides his arm around me and leads me from the room. This whole evening - this whole relationship - is a lot to take in.He takes me out behind the house. The sun has gone down, casting the grounds in shadow, but from what I can see, the property is gorgeous. Like Dante, Charles and Giovanna have a large pool, but Dante leads me around the edge of the water to the terrace overlooking the gardens below.I grab onto the wrought-iron rail and tilt my head back, looking up at the sky. It's a clear night, and though the lights of the city cast a green-gold glow on the sky, there are still hundreds of stars winking back at me.Dante is quiet - too quiet. After a moment, I glance over at him, and I find him looking up at the sky with an expression I can't read. But he's got his lips pressed tightly together."What is it?" I ask.One corner of his mouth drifts up. "I was just trying to think of
The mansion of Charles and Giovanna Fontaine is insane.It's huge, of course. And gorgeous. And surrounded by grounds that make it look like we're somewhere in Tuscany. If I thought Dante's house was intimidating, it's nothing compared to this.Though I'm sure the fact that I'm about to meet his parents isn't helping my nerves.I'm a bundle of anxiety as Dante leads me through the front door. His arm is hooked through mine, his fingers offering a reassuring touch on my inner wrist."You look gorgeous," he murmurs to me as he leads me across the foyer and into the formal living room. "They're going to love you."The rest of his family is already here, and my breath stops as I take them in. At least one of the advantages of dating a Fontaine is that I already know the names of many of the people here in this room - there won't be any awkward lapses of memory later. Still, meeting everyone at once is more than a little intimidating. It's not just the fact that they're Dante's family,
"What about the press?" I ask Dante."We'll face together. We might have to deal with some rumors after word gets out that I've dropped Cataclysm: Aftermath. But we'll manage. Maybe I can arrange for us to take an extended trip to Bali."I laugh and wipe away a tear. "You know I can't leave my bakery for that long.""Then we'll figure out something else. But we'll do it together." He sobers a little. "I want you to tell me if you get any more harassing messages.""Only if you promise to tell me what's going on with your work." I look down at my hands on his chest. "I'm not trying to pry, I just...""I know." He tilts my face back up toward his. "We have a lot to share. A lot to keep discovering about each other." He twirls a loose strand of my hair around his finger, still looking far too serious. "You'll still have reporters and paparazzi poking around for a while, I'm afraid. I'm hoping that if I stay away from any high-profile projects, we might get a little privacy, but you ne
This can't be happening. Not here, not like this. This is too soon. This is too crazy."Dante..." I whisper. I can't make this decision with all of these people watching."I shredded that script," he murmurs against the backs of my fingers. "I told them to find someone else to rewrite it.""You didn't have to - ""I did. And I'd do it again."Panic is rising in my chest. "Dante, if we could go somewhere a little more private..."He brushes his lips against my knuckles. "I'll follow you anywhere you wish to go."I pull him to his feet and lead him back through the kitchen, past a wide-eyed Mama Pat and straight into the walk-in cooler. I have no idea what I'm going to say or do. But the moment the door is shut behind us, I find myself sinking against his chest.His arms come up around me - one around my waist, the other around my upper back, squeezing me to him as if he never intends to let me go. I press my face against his shirt."I'm scared," I whisper. "I'm so scared, Dante
My "vacation" doesn't leave me feeling much better.Sure, I get plenty of food and plenty of sleep - and both Mama Pat and her husband are kind, generous hosts - but my heart still feels heavy. I feel lost. Dragged out by a rip tide. And I'm not sure what to do but continue to push on. The moment I heard back from Jack - he agreed to meet for lunch this coming week, thank goodness - I switched off my phone. I've avoided television and the internet. I need time to think.But thinking is hard when I'm like this. Every time I close my eyes I feel Dante's arms around me. Feel his lips against mine. Feel his fingers on my skin. Sometimes, I let myself sink into those fantasies. But every time I do, the feelings of love and desire are quickly drowned beneath a rush of pain and fear. I love him. I love him so much I don't know what to do with myself. He holds my heart in his hands, could break it without any effort at all - and he knows exactly where my weak spots are. I hate that he has th
Mama Pat is my savior. She picks me up from Dante's house, and I don't think I've ever been happier to have a mama hen in my entire life.The moment I slide into her car she looks me up and down. "Need to talk about it, honey?"I shake my head. If I say a word about Dante, I'll lose my carefully maintained self-control, and I'm barely holding myself together as it is."Thank you for coming to get me," I tell her. "Normally I'd have called Jack, but he and I aren't exactly on good terms right now.""You know I'm always here for you, my dear."I do know. Mama Pat's been the closest thing I've had to a mother since my own died, and something about the way she's looking at me now - with compassion and understanding - softens me. I need a friend, a mom, right now."I'm an idiot," I say, leaning my head against the car window. "I should have known I wasn't strong enough to handle this. I knew I was being stupid and emotional... but I let myself fall right back into his arms.""Don't b
I can tell the exact moment Dante's eyes land on the sheet of paper because his fingers freeze. "Where did you get that?""Your notes blew off the table and I was picking them up." I shouldn't have looked at them, I know, but it's too late for such regrets. "Is this a character in your script? You're using this? Using me?"He doesn't speak for a long moment. Too long. And when the words finally come, he talks slowly, as if choosing every word carefully. "Writers use real people as inspiration sometimes, Ash. It helps us create characters that feel authentic. But a lot of influences go into a character. Bits and pieces from different people and different experiences."I'm still frozen in his arms. "Her name is Ashley.""That was the director's decision. It's his girlfriend's name - purely a coincidence.""But this note about me isn't a coincidence. You have a comment about her running a bakery... about her having emotional baggage..." But my eyes keep going back to the weaknesses:
I wake to the soft in-and-out of Dante's breath against my cheek.We're in his bed, and for once, I've woken before him. My body is draped across his, and his chest rises and falls beneath my arm. I can feel his slow, steady heartbeat beneath the pads of my fingers.For a long moment, I just lie there and stare at him. Watch the slight flutter of his dark lashes against his cheeks. Admire the long, hard lines of his body. He has a habit of kicking the sheets off while he sleeps, so most of his well-muscled form is in view. I let my fingers drift across the plane of his chest, following the path my mouth took last night. It must be close to dawn because the light that leaks in through the window is pale pink against his skin.I'm not sure how long I lie there watching him. My body feels languid, content. Any tension or anxiety I felt last night disappeared beneath Dante's passionate touch. I feel like we could take on the world together.We left the window cracked last night, and a
"Men were threatening you?" Dante demands. "Men you know?" His voice is so strained that he hardly even sounds like himself.I shake my head. "Strangers."The muscles of his chest are rigid beneath my hands. He doesn't move - doesn't even breathe - for a full minute."Why didn't you tell me this?" he demands finally. His eyes bore into me."I knew it would upset you.""Of course it upsets me!""Well, it's not like there's anything we can do about it," I say."You still should have told me." He releases me and turns away, his hands going to his hair."What good has it done, telling you?" I say. "You don't tell me everything, either. We've just started seeing each other again. It's okay to still have some secrets."He turns back toward me. "And what secrets do you think I'm hiding from you?""Not secrets, necessarily," I say. "But you dodge all of my questions about your work." Between the tense phone calls and his odd behavior at the studio, something is definitely going on.