It had to be better than war.
She stared hard at the door leading to the rest of the plane. No matter how confident she acted with her sister on the phone, the truth was her options were limited. She had no weapons handy, and she didn’t think she could take Dante in a fair fight. More, even if she could, there was sure to be a welcoming party when they landed. She’d have nowhere to run, and she didn’t like her odds of being able to even get the door to the cockpit open to attempt to bribe the pilot.
No, better to play her cards close to her chest for the time being. There were only so many places he could take her, and if he was any other guy in the life, he would head straight for his family. That was the best bet in this situation, too. She didn’t relish the thought of dealing with Lorenzo Verducci, but she’d do whatever it took to get back to her people. Even if Dante didn’t want to put her in his uncle’s hands, he’d go back to LA.
If they were in a city, her options increased dramatically. She just needed to bide her time until then. It was the only logical thing to do. She certainly wasn’t making this decision because of how thrilling it had been to go toe to toe with Dante.
Rose closed her eyes. You can do better than that. She didn’t make a habit of lying to herself. She had experienced both lust and excitement when Dante cut off her wedding dress and she threw the only weapons she had at him—her words. She liked that he didn’t flinch, that he met her at the line she drew in the sand and didn’t pull his punches.
She didn’t expect special treatment, but usually people in the life who weren’t family fell into two categories. They either put her on a strange sort of pedestal that made her uncomfortable, or they thought she was just a pretty face who happened to be born first and sought to use or manipulate her. Either way, they all came to her with smiles and sweet words.
It had even been like that with Jackson, though he wasn’t supposed to know who she was. He’d treated her like spun glass. Like she was some breakable woman who would fold under any kind of harsh treatment. She’d liked it. Of course, she’d liked it. Who didn’t want to be seen as a precious treasure?
Dante? He didn’t treat her like that at all. The way he looked at her when she pushed back? It was as if every snarl and show of strength only increased his interest.
I bet sex with this man wouldn’t be mediocre in the least.
No. That wasn’t fair. She might lie to Dante, but she wouldn’t to herself. Sex with Jackson hadn’t been mediocre. And, no matter what she’d claimed, she hadn’t faked it. It had simply been…normal. There was nothing wrong with normal, but Rose couldn’t quite argue that part of her hadn’t wanted more.
The kind of more Dante seemed to be offering.
She took a breath and then another. Okay. She’d admitted her traitorous feelings. No matter what else was true, she was only human. Her feelings weren’t actions, and they didn’t mean she was about to endanger her entire family for a few hours of potentially good cock. Her feelings existed, and she couldn’t function effectively without acknowledging them, but they did not control her.
Within a few breaths, she managed to let go of the knotted feeling in her chest. There was a way out of this. She just needed the time and patience to see it. Dante didn’t seem the type to let his guard down, even if she played nice, but continuing to threaten him wouldn’t accomplish a single damn thing. She had to try to play the game, even if she didn’t quite understand the rules.
I came to claim what’s mine.
His words from before rolled through her, making her shiver. Surely not. Surely that was just another element of some mindfuck plan he had in place. She’d shot the man, for fuck’s sake. Even people who moved in the circles they did took assault with a deadly weapon as a clear indication of a lack of romantic interest.
But if he did mean it? She could work with that.
Rose ducked back into the bathroom and did her best to freshen up. She didn’t like the idea of walking around mostly naked, so she opened the closet door to see what options she had. She blinked. A dozen identical gray button-down shirts hung in a perfect line. Next to them, a dozen pairs of black slacks. She crouched down and found two pairs of the same exact shoe. Apparently Dante wasn’t a fan of variety.