In a shameful instant, he imagined an alternate reality, where Elise belonged to him, her widow's garb flung away along with her memory of the strong, honorable mate she had loved so deeply and lost. In Chase's private dream, Elise's small body would be grown full and ripe with his child. He would give her a son to love and hold close. He would give her the world.
"You deserve to be happy, Elise."
She made a small noise in the back of her throat, as though he had embarrassed her. "It's very sweet of you to care. I don't know what I would do without you, especially now."
She stepped toward him and put her hands on his shoulders, just the lightest touch, but enough to send a flood of heat racing through him. He braced himself, hardly breathing as she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. The kiss was brief, heartbreakingly chaste.
"Thank you, Sterling. I couldn't have asked for a more devoted brother-in-law."
Tess perused the pastry case of a North End coffee shop, finally deciding on a decadent seven-layer brownie drizzled in caramel sauce. She normally didn't indulge and probably had no right to now, given her tight finances, but after a long day at work--a day that came on the heels of a long, nearly sleepless night--she was going to enjoy her brownie and cappuccino without a moment of guilt. Well, maybe just a small moment of guilt, which would be forgotten the instant all that sticky sweet goodness touched her tongue.
"I'll pay for that," said a deep male voice from beside her.
Tess drew up sharply. She knew that low, beautifully accented voice, even though she'd heard it only once before.
"Dante," she said, turning around to face him. "Hi."
"Hi." He smiled, and Tess's heart did a crazy flutter in her chest. "I'd like to pay for your, er... God, don't tell me that's your dinner?"
She laughed and shook her head. "I had a late lunch at work. And you don't have to pay--"
"I insist." He handed the barista a twenty and didn't accept the change. He didn't seem to notice the pretty cashier's coy look either, all of his focus rooted on Tess. The intensity of his gorgeous eyes, his entire presence, seemed to suck some of the air out of the too-warm room.
"Thank you," she said, taking her bagged brownie and the paper cup away from the counter. "Aren't you having anything?" "I don't do sugar or caffeine. They're not my thing."
"They're not? It just so happens they're two of my favorite vices."
Dante made a soft sound in his throat, almost a purr. "What are your others?"
"Working, mostly," she said quickly, feeling her face flush as she turned to grab a few napkins from the dispenser at the end of the counter. A peculiar heat also traveled along her neck, tingling like a mild electrical charge. She felt it down to her marrow, in every surging vein. She was eager to change the subject, far too aware of the heat he was putting off as he trailed her casually toward the coffee-shop door. "This is a surprise, seeing you here, Dante. Do you live nearby?"
"Not far. And you?"
"Just a couple of blocks away," she said, walking with him outside into the cool night air. Now that she was standing next to him again, she couldn't stop thinking about their strange, sexually charged encounter at the museum exhibit. She'd been thinking about those incredible few moments pretty much constantly ever since, wondering if he might have been just a figment of her imagination--some dark kind of fantasy. Yet here he was, flesh and bone. So real that she could touch him. It shocked her how much she wanted to do just that.
It unnerved her, made her twitchy and anxious. Made her want to get away before the urge became something even stronger.
"Well," she said, as she tipped her steaming cappuccino cup in his direction. "Thanks again for the sugar and caffeine buzz. Good night."
As she turned to walk up the sidewalk, Dante reached out and touched her arm. His mouth curved into an amused, if suspicious, smile. "You're always running away from me, Tess."
Was she? And really, why the hell shouldn't she? She hardly knew him, and what she did know of him seemed to send all of her senses into overdrive. "I am not trying to run away from you--"
"Then let me give you a ride home."
He pulled a small key ring out of his coat pocket, and a black Porsche parked at the curb gave a chirp, its lights flashing once in response. Nice car, she thought, not really surprised to find him driving something sleek, fast, and expensive.
"Thanks, but... that's okay, really. It's such a nice night, I was actually going to walk for a while."
"May I join you?"
If he'd insisted in that confident, dominating way of his, Tess would have turned him down flat. But he was asking politely, as if he understood just how far she could be pushed. And although Tess had been craving alone time, tonight of all nights, when she thought about making excuses to leave him, the words simply wouldn't come. "Um, sure. I guess so. If you want to."
"I'd like nothing more."
They began a slow stroll up the sidewalk, just another couple on a street full of tourists and residents enjoying the quaint neighborhood of the North End. For a long time, neither one of them spoke. Tess sipped her cappuccino and Dante surveyed the area with a hawkish intensity that made her feel both anxious and protected. She didn't see danger in any of the faces they passed, but Dante had a fierce vigilance about him that said he was ready for any situation.
"You never did tell me the other night what you do for a living. Are you a cop or something?"