He released Emelia and stepped back—the air thick with something...he refused to call it arousal. Mateo watched him, a frown marred his brow before Dante averted his eyes, putting more space between them.
After Emelia’s outburst, they remained silent, but with relief, he spotted Sebastian McKenzie heading toward them.
With little or no explanation, Dante excused himself and moved quickly away before anyone could decide to follow him. He needed a clear head and, right now, it was full of Emelia, and the whiskey he drank hadn’t helped.
Perhaps if he drank more, he’d be so numb with alcohol that Emelia would become a distant memory, and he certainly wouldn’t get an erection. Men lost the ability to get ‘it up’ when under the influence, or so he’d read. As a priest, he led a celibate life, and being hard as a steel rod wasn’t a huge problem. It was the urge to go somewhere and yank his own change that was the problem, and a sin for him as a priest in the eyes of God.
As he approached the fence, around the main paddock, he quickly rearranged himself to a more comfortable position before he leaned forward and watched a couple of horses frolic around.
He just needed a breather before he hunted out more alcohol. His body throbbed with unwanted desire, which couldn’t go on.
In the six years since he’d given his life up for the church, he hadn’t touched himself—masturbated—not even once. The thought, and on occasion, the desperation in him to do just that had eventually been overruled by his will to stay true to his vows. It would be the biggest sin of all to not only masturbate but to do it with his sister in his head.
He would watch Ramon and Noah get married, and then he’d plunk his ass down at the bar and stay there until he was too numb to remember his own name. Perhaps then, he’d be able to forget hers.
Chapter Eight
“You need to do something about Dante,” Eric demanded, standing next to her while she brooded.
She didn’t want to go near him right now because all he’d done was ignore her all day, since her run in with Caprice. It hurt being ignored by the one man who made her heart beat faster, but there you had it.
“Emelia?” Eric said, his voice layered with impatience.
“I heard you,” Emelia turned to face her brother, “the first time.” She sighed. “You can’t seriously expect me to go and talk to him while he’s drunk, can you?”
“We both know why he’s drunk, and I can’t leave right now. Diego has gone off with a guest and I’m not sure where the others are.” Eric dragged his hands through his hair. “Look, I know you’re both hurting, and if there was a different way¸ then I’d choose it but there isn’t. He’s had far too much to drink and needs to be taken back to the hotel.”
She wanted so badly to go over to Dante and hold him close, but she didn’t think her heart could take being pushed away from him again.
“If he’s so drunk, how will I get him in the car?”
“I can help you do that and then the doorman at the hotel will help you inside with him.”
Against her better judgment, she searched the room until she found Dante...her vision filling with red when the woman next to him leaned into him, flashing her boobs.
She heard Eric chuckle as she marched over, and peeled the woman’s hand from Dante’s arm. “I’ll take it from here,” she snarled, her fist curling in an effort to control her rage…all she wanted to do was rip the woman’s fingers off.
“You don’t have to be like that. I didn’t know he was taken,” she mumbled.
“He’s taken by God, so keep your hands to yourself.” Emelia faced Dante and met his gaze.
He might be drunk, but his unwavering gaze burned into her soul. “C’mon, let’s get you back to the hotel,” she mumbled, and reached for his arm.
Dante swayed when he got to his feet, and would have face planted the floor if not for Eric’s grip on his arm.
When he’d looked at her, he’d looked totally Dante, but as she watched Eric help him to the waiting car, she wasn’t sure if her Dante was still inside. Dante sprawled out on the backseat, which didn’t leave much room for her as she climbed in after him.
“Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all,” Eric observed.
“Didn’t I already say that?”
“I should have listened.”
“Eric, go back to Sylvia. We’ll be fine.” With her words final, she pulled the door closed and gave the driver the address of the hotel.
All the while she felt Dante’s dark gaze on her. It felt like he could see through her clothing to the heart and soul of her beneath. The heat that came from him made her afraid to turn her head to look at him, but when she did, she was captured in the blackness that surrounded him.
The man sprawled beside her took up most of the backseat with how he sat. His back was in the corner, with one leg out to the side on the floor and his other leg bent at the knee as it rested against the seat. Her gaze moved over him in a slow caress that she was unable to prevent.