"We're here," he says as the car pulls to a stop. "Behave and later we can play."
The way he says the word play sends a small shiver down my spine. I like it when we play.
The door to the limo opens and the driver helps me out. I leave my coat in the car and my breath catches in the cold afternoon air. Dante is right behind me and I can feel his warmth. In front of us is the Hayden Sphere. I'd seen it, but have never been inside. I know it is part of the American Museum of Natural History and that they just redid it a year or so ago. It looks like a clear cube with a giant ball inside. It certainly makes me think of something from space.
"The planetarium?" I ask, turning my head to look at Dante. He grins.
"You said you never get to see the stars anymore," he explained, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and guiding me toward the building. "Well, this afternoon we are going to see some stars."
I barely remember saying that in passing. I'm impressed he remembered at all. The clear night sky is something I miss from my old life. I am more than happy to trade those small twinkling lights in the sky for the sparkling lights of the city.
We enter the the glass doors of the museum and start to wander through the exhibits. I'm not really paying attention to Jupiter's red spot or even that Pluto isn't given its rightful place as a planet anymore. I'm focused on Dante.
His hand is on my shoulder as we read an exhibit display. It's hot through my thin, silk blouse. I close my eyes and try to think, but all I can concentrate on is how good it feels to have him touch me. For a moment, I let myself dream. The two of us, married and happy. A wedding with me in a white dress and him waiting at the end of the aisle.
Except, as I walk down the aisle in my thoughts, Victoria Russo is there. Her cold eyes pierce my happy thoughts and ruin my imaginary wedding. I open my eyes and let Dante guide me to the next display. I need to talk to Aunt Sophia about her.
The museum is blissfully quiet with only a couple of other patrons browsing the exhibits. It seems strange to see anywhere in New York quiet, but it is a weekday. A small boy, no older than four years old, points up at one of the planets lining the museum and shouts with glee. His mother smiles and picks him up, keeping his excitement in check. He is the only child here. It must just be a slower day until school lets out and the children come flocking to see the planets.
"Are you close with your parents?" I ask Dante, watching the mother whisper to her child about the stars. The happy duo look like something from a sappy Mother's Day card commercial.
“I'm a good son,” Dante answers noncommittally, his eyes following mine to the mother and child. It's slight, but his jaw tightens. “I know where my family loyalties lie.”
"Do you talk to your mom a lot?" I keep my voice light and easy, even though my heart is squeezing into my throat. I want him to say no. I want him to say that he doesn't listen to a thing she says and that the woman has no real power over him. I want the conversation with her to be nothing but an empty threat.
Dante turns his full attention to me. There's something ancient and dark in those dark eyes. His face is hard and I know I'm treading on dangerous ground with this subject. "She runs the Russo Family and she is my mother.”
I try to smile like it was just an innocent question, but my heart sinks a little. She runs the Russo Family... which means she has power over him. For a moment, I wonder if we're going about this all too fast. There are too many ways that Victoria can sabotage this.
Dante walks to the next display, leaving me to catch up. The edge is gone from his voice and the easy-going smile of youth crosses his features as I join him. "What about you? You close with your parents?"
"They're dead, so not really," I say, bitterness making my words short. “Sophia is my mother's sister. She took me in when my mother died.”
"I'm sorry," Dante says, wrapping his arm around me. He's warm and I am safe. For a moment, I wish that we were different people. I wish that we were normal. That we didn't have the family pushing us together or anyone wanting us to stay apart. I wished that this could be a boring story without any of the danger or stress.
"It was a long time ago," I say.
He kisses my head and smooths my hair with his hand. "Any siblings?"
"No. My dad died when I was a toddler and my mother never remarried.”
"A brother and a sister," he answers, but doesn't offer up any more information.
He guides us to the next display. I wasn't finished reading the last one, but I go with him anyway. It takes me three steps to realize that he's been subtly moving us through the museum on a schedule. I didn't even realize he had been doing it. Something about the ease of which he moves me along bothers me. I don't like not being in control. If we're to be married and our families joined, I need to be in control as much as he is.
"You said you used to be able to see the stars," Dante says, pointing to a display with a picture of North America. "Where did you live?"
I know he doesn't mean anything by the question. It's something that a fiance should know about their betrothed, but it irks me. I should be glad that he hasn't pried into my life and found out all of this from other people. He's asking me, yet I don't want to talk about it.
Unjustified anger heats my center. The fact that it's unjustified just makes it worse and now I'm angry at myself too.
“It doesn't matter. There's no one there to go home to.” The only person left in that town is the one person in this world I need to run from. They are the person that killed my mother.
I want to snap at him, but that isn't fair. I take a deep breath. It isn't his fault that I have a tragic past. I remind myself that he's in love with me and that I am in love with him.
"Dante..." I turn to look at him, and my heart aches. His dark brow is tight and it just makes him more beautiful. “It's not that interesting. Or important.”
“It is to me,” he says, taking my hands.