The gesture was another sweet thing that I hadn’t expected. It also made me smile. I took a sip, laughing from the way the bubbles tickled my nose and he was watching every nuance, his brow furrowed as if trying as hard to figure me out as I’d been with him. “No. I asked her many times when I was young until she finally had one of what I called her attacks, forbidding me to talk about him at all. But up to that point she’d told me that he was a horrible criminal and we were better off without him.”

  “Really. You don’t know where they met?”

  “No. Nothing. I used to find it odd she acted as if she hated him but slept with a picture under her pillow.”

  “Did you ever see it?”

  I leaned over, biting my lower lip. “Don’t tell anyone but I snuck into her room one day when I was maybe fourteen or so, finding it hidden underneath a jewelry box. It was a beautiful picture taken at a little table in front of what appeared to be the most gorgeous turquoise ocean I’d ever seen. The sand was pearlescent white, the sky bright blue. They looked so happy and I could see why she’d thought him very handsome. All dark and foreboding looking. Kinda like you.”

  He laughed but I could sense he was more curious than ever. “And you don’t know his name.”

  “Why are you so interested?” I took another sip, feeling another wave of heat between us. My nipples hadn’t stopped aching, the electricity something famous romance authors wrote about in their books. Besides, the kind of connection we shared didn’t occur for girls like me.

  “Perhaps because of your comment hoping for a knight in shining armor.”

  “Well, from what little she said, he wasn’t one of them. He told her he loved her then disappeared.”

  “She said that?”

  “The vanishing into thin air part, yes, but the love came from what was written on the back of the photograph.”

  “Which was?”

  “Mi hai rubato il cuore, bel fiore. Un giorno ci incontreremo di nuovo e sarà per sempre.” I whispered the words in Italian, which surprised me as much as opening up around him.

  “You’ve stolen my heart, lovely flower. One day, we will meet again and it will be forever.” He translated the words from Italian easily, including faking a slight accent.

  Another surprise.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  He grinned and took the flute from my hand, the crackle between us intensifying when our fingers touched. With a seductive smile on his face, he plucked the strawberry from the glass, slowly easing his arm over the table. He didn’t need to command me to open my mouth. I found myself leaning over the table, opening my lips into a small but perfectly rounded O.

  The smile on his face was more devilish as he rubbed the juicy fruit around my lips three times before tenderly pushing it into my mouth.

  I took a nibble then another, noticing how aroused he seemed, his chest heaving all over again. The moment and his actions were entirely too intimate but pulled me further into the magic I’d mentioned.

  “Because, my perfect dancer, I was required to learn several languages as a child.”

  As I chewed, I thought about what he was saying. “Your father?”

  “Yes. He was a harsh taskmaster among other things, including being a gifted yet tortured man.”

  “What other talents do you have?” My instinct told me he had no desire to relive his childhood. And I wasn’t certain I was ready to hear what horrors he and his brothers had obviously suffered.

  “Mmm… Let’s see. Paddle boarding.”

  “Athletic.”

  “Boxing.”

  “Oh, lots of aggression.”

  “Sky diving.”

  “Far too dangerous,” I huffed, returning to my champagne.

  “But what is living without experiencing danger?” He slowly lowered his gaze to his drink and we both watched as he swirled the glass back and forth ever so slowly. When he lifted his chin, his eyes piercing mine, I felt as if I’d been pulled into a delirious vacuum. “And I do play a mean piano concerto.”

  “My. You are very talented. Aren’t you?”

  As he threw back his drink, I realized my pulse was racing. He pushed back his chair, tossing his napkin on the table and standing with purpose. When he extended his arm, as if he was a gentleman instead of the devil, my pussy reacted first. The deep, intense throb made me lightheaded, my entire body swaying and I’d yet to stand.

  “I’m also an accomplished dancer. Ballroom. Jazz. Salsa. You might be surprised. While you’re my perfect dancer and will dance for me alone, not tonight. Tonight is about us. Come join me.”

  Us.

  For some crazy reason, I liked the sound of it.

  I took a deep breath before sliding my napkin onto the table. While still tentative about taking his hand, once I did all the nervousness, the swarm of butterflies I’d felt around him faded away. “Nothing about you surprises me any longer.”

  “Then I guess I’m not doing my job well enough.” He turned around, switching the way he was holding my hand. As I was pulled behind him, the powerful man walking us through the crowd, I sensed there wasn’t a single person in the room who hadn’t stopped eating and drinking, laughing and talking to take a moment to stare at the gorgeous couple.

  And we did look good together, stunning in fact.

  Even the reflection of our heated bodies in the windows, white lights twinkling all around us added the perfect illumination to what could appear to be a couple very much in love.

  That made me wonder whether he was even capable of such a thing.

  As he pulled me close to the musicians, I was suddenly more nervous than before. Why? I’d also danced just about every style over the last few years, my experience with the Joffrey allowing for use of varied techniques.

  He allowed our fingers to slip free and turned to face me, giving me a heated yet stern look. “Stay right there. Do not move. You know, Bella, that I would hunt you down.”

  A part of me wanted to try to flee to see what he’d do, but not like before, not because I was terrified of what he was going to do to do. Because I wanted to know what lengths he’d go to in order to keep his possession secure. How strange. How… twisted.

  He spoke with the pianist, even slipping the man what appeared to be money. When Creed turned around, his look was even more primal than before, the hulk of a man taking very slow steps in my direction. There was a moment where it seemed everyone in the room stopped talking, stopped breathing as they waited to see what we would do.

  As soon as the music began, I recognized it immediately. It was one of my favorites, the mention of a beautiful lady in red an homage to the love of the singer’s life. He swept me into his arms, one hand wrapped around my waist, his fingers on the other grasping mine. The music, like the dance, was seductive and more powerful than non-dancers could understand.

  He was masterful in the art, spinning us both around the dance floor with ease. The few moments were so powerful, drawing me into more than just a magical state. It was as if time had stopped, karma putting us together for a reason. When he twirled me, pulling me into such a deep arc, my head almost touched the floor, I heard several people from the closest tables gasp. As if the muscular man would ever let me fall.

  He leaned over while holding me that way, his balance unlike any dancer’s I experienced, the twinkling lights allowing me to see the burning need in his eyes. And as he yanked me against him, our bodies crushed together for a few incredible seconds, I felt something other than hatred and lust.

  I felt alive and adored.

  Even though I suddenly wanted the world to fade away, allowing us to be very much alone, I was also petrified.

  Not of the man.

  Not of his vicious nature.

  Or his penchant for pain.

  But because I had a terrifying feeling this was the beginning of the end of a part of my life, the birth of another.

  And it would involve the man easily able to steal my heart.

  CHAPTER 20

  Creed

  “There’s no place in this world for emotion, boy,” my father said as he stood over me, twisting his fingers around the thick strap of leather, laughing softly, evilly. “No such thing as love. Once you realize and accept that, you will succeed in everything you do. Until then, you will remain the piece of useless flesh you are.”

  He brought the strap down, but I bit back a single sound. He was never going to get the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain again.

  I’d also made a promise to myself this would be the last time he whipped me like some dog. I was over eighteen, outweighed the man by fifty pounds and was ready to end our relationship.

  Permanently.

  He brought the strap down again and I knew the lashes would scar, but I didn’t care. Soon, the bastard would be out of my life one way or the other.

  However, the sperm donor was right. There was no place in my world for any aspect of love, whether from a beautiful woman or a family.

  The memory was unwanted, but my father would say necessary. I’d enjoyed myself with a woman entirely too much, which put all the strengths I’d mastered, the skills I’d honed into a precarious position. Up until now, the only thing I’d allowed myself to feel with a woman was sexual need, quenching a thirst and nothing more.

  Yet while I’d sat beside Bella in the velveted box, allowing her to enjoy watching her favorite ballet company performing Giselle, I could sense a change coming from deep within.

  She’d remained on the edge of her seat, her facial expressions changing with every switch in the mood of music, even shedding a couple of tears as the production had continued. I’d barely watched the ballet, preferring to bask in her beauty instead. She’d delighted me the entire evening, shedding her rebellion at first in her attempt to control the moment and my mood.

  I had to admit she’d shocked me more than anyone had when she’d openly kissed me in front of the reporters. The loving gesture had brought out every animalistic instinct I’d had, the need to possess her more powerful than it had been. And when I’d seen the very reporter who’d been allowed to interview me on two occasions give her a lust-filled look, the bastard had almost felt my fist against his face, the green-eyed monster rearing more than just his ugly head.

  However, after our first drink, when dinner had been ordered, she’d calmed down, even allowing herself to enjoy the music as much as I’d hoped.

  After that, I’d found myself losing the typical moments of controlling need, enjoying our conversation and her hint of flirting.

  Learning about the picture had come close to confirming what Kane had discovered and I’d mentioned it to him in passing when she’d been escorted to the restroom. He was currently ascertaining whether the information on Armand’s whereabouts was correct or a lure into another path leading nowhere.

  With the number of pictures that had been taken, at least one of them would turn up in one or two of the morning papers. That much I’d count on. Was I using her as bait? Perhaps, but there was too much at stake and I wanted to be in absolute control at all times.

  Nothing unusual.

  I also needed to soothe the primal need to force the responsible party into a hunt.

  Maybe that would quiet the demons once and for all.

  Or maybe my luscious companion would. Whatever the case, I had every intention of enjoying the remainder of the night.

  The ballet had been perfect, a cherry on the whipped cream, although dancing with her in front of everyone in the restaurant had been incredible as well, so much I’d never wanted the night to end.

  Even the way she’d clung to me after we’d left, walking out of the building to the waiting limo had been endearing as fuck. Too much so. She’d kept ahold of my arm, even resting her head on my shoulder. Meanwhile, I’d scanned the busy street, convinced that the person responsible for the earlier attack was keeping tabs on my whereabouts.

  Or hers.

  Either way, I’d gone to great lengths to keep us both protected. Kane and another man stood outside the suite’s penthouse door while the other two had gone on a hunt of their own.

  Now we both stood on the lower level of the suite in the living room, the Conrad in the heart of Manhattan. The views were just as spectacular as the posh restaurant, but I couldn’t give a shit about the glistening lights of the Big Apple.

  I only had eyes for the woman now standing barefoot, swaying to the jazz music I’d selected. I adored watching her dance, the subtle nuances evoking one too many emotions inside of me.

  Continually watching her, I removed my tuxedo jacket, tossing it to the arm of one couch, tugging at the bowtie until I was able to yank it from under the collar. I pitched it aside and began to unfasten the buttons on my shirt. I was finished with feeling like some formal penguin.

  When she noticed I was staring at her, a warm flush crept up both her cheeks. The hint of her vulnerability made my cock swell, my balls tighten.

  “You looked very handsome in your tux,” she said as she eyed me in the floor-to-ceiling window.

  “Why, thank you. Keep dancing for me, beautiful creature. I do so love to watch you.”

  She laughed and took a sip of her drink. “It’s a little difficult in this tight dress. All I can do is sway to the music.”

  “Hmm…” I growled and placed my drink on the piano, taking calculated steps toward her.

  The closer I came, the more her face flushed, her cheeks now matching the stunning gown.

  “I think I can take care of that,” I told her as I took the glass from her hand, placing it next to mine on the baby grand’s surface. I’d purposely booked the suite at the Conrad because of the piano, not the view.

  It was also extremely secure, which was required.

  “And just what do you think you’re going to do?” she asked, the tone sounding remarkably like a purr.

  I eased around her, running the tips of two fingers down the back of her neck. When I tugged on the diamond comb secured in her hair, I studied her reflection in the glass. She was trying not to feel anxious or excited, but I could sense she was as aroused as I was.

  As her hair cascaded past her shoulders, I took a deep whiff of her perfume, savoring the way the fragrance tickled my nostrils. When I started tugging on the long zipper of her dress, her breathing hitched.

  “I’ll make it easier for you, unburdening you of the tight confines.” I took my time unzipping, allowing the heat of the moment to swell within both of us.

  As soon as the dress was unfastened, I helped gravity take it to the floor, shaking my head at the sight of her matching lacy bra and thong. She didn’t move, didn’t act but so embarrassed at her state of undress as she stepped out of the material.

  I was the one who snagged it from the floor, tossing it over the back of one of the couches. As I rolled my finger all the way down her spine, she turned her head slightly, her lovely mouth pursing.

  Just to touch her in this way, slowly and without feeling the need to do nothing more than shoving my cock into her wetness was a powerful aphrodisiac, a special moment. It was strange to think I’d never allowed myself to take my time with a woman under any circumstances.

  I couldn’t care less about walks in the park or in the froth of the ocean water as the sun was setting. I certainly had never taken a picnic or spent time watching a movie in a theater or anywhere else. That wasn’t my style.

  Which was why having thoughts of doing all those things caught me as much off guard as everything else had during the evening.

  She was quivering to my touch, her skin shimmering from the lighting in the room. I continued my trail, moving from one side of her waist to the other. When I backed away, she bit her lower lip in the way I adored. I grabbed my unfinished drink, sitting down on one of the chairs where I could command and see everything she did.

  “Dance for me,” I told her. “Dance like you’re ready to wrap your fingers around the entire world, claiming it as your own.”

  She took another deep breath, listening as the song shifted into something a touch darker than what had been playing.

  As she started to sway her hips back and forth, tossing her head over her shoulder, a smile crossed my face. For all her innocence, she could be a perfect tease.

  “Take a look out the windows, my perfect dancer. Imagine everyone inside the building across the street is watching you.”

  She turned her head fully toward the wall of glass, lifting one leg in front of her. As she pointed her toes, she eased her arms to the sides, fluttering them as if a beautiful butterfly freed from its ugly cocoon.

  I was instantly mesmerized by the way she took a purposeful step forward, rising on her toes, extending her other leg behind her and leaning forward. She was even more beautiful in form as she slowly began to feel the rhythm of the music, tossing her long hair and moving as if she owned the room.

  While I’d wanted to relax and enjoy my drink, I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat, my heart thudding as she dropped to the floor, tossing her arms out over her head. As she began to rise slowly, as if still the butterfly learning to fly, I could barely contain myself. My cock was pressing hard against my trousers, the arousal almost painful.

  I placed my glass on the coffee table, wringing my hands together as she unfurled her body. As she almost marched toward the window, keeping her toes pointed with every step, I envisioned her required discipline was as strict as mine had been, even brutal at times.

  But still entirely different.

  She’d chosen to dance as an outlet for the horror her mother had put her through. When Bella had confided in me the way Carmine had behaved, I’d almost made a phone call and had her life stripped away. However, my dancer’s words had prevented me from providing another moment of sadness.

  As she planted one palm on the cool glass then the other, slowly tipping her head over her shoulder, her dance moves shifted to something more evocative.