Dante was a hard nut to crack. I couldn’t read him. One minute, I was positive I saw him checking out my tits, and the next he was jumping up from the couch like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

What was his story? I wondered.

He sure looked the part of the big, bad scary biker, even if he said he wasn’t like the others. Not to mention he was sexy as fuck. But it’s true, he wasn’t like any of those assholes back at the bar. I wasn’t afraid of him at all.

In fact, I was intrigued. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I watched the way he moved, drinking him in as much as I could.

He was dripping masculinity, his jaw twitching as he walked away, his tight jeans hinting at the muscles hiding under his clothes.

He was this hot, and yet he lived way out here in the middle of nowhere, hidden away in the woods, with not another soul in sight. Why didn’t a man like him have a woman waiting for him at home? This place was quiet as a church.

Well, except for that mess of a dog that was currently snoring loudly, as he napped by the fire.

Something didn’t seem right.

“Do you know a girl named Bella?” I asked, suddenly wondering if this was Bella’s biker. That would suck, I thought to myself.

“Nope, should I?” he asked, looking over his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with two glasses full of whiskey. I’d barely taken two drinks of my beer. He worked fast, I noted. He sipped from his glass as he waited for my answer. Sitting next to me, the warmth coming from his large frame competed with the fire. Light flickered in his long wavy hair and I resisted the urge to reach out and touch it to see how soft it was.

“Well?” he prodded.

“What?” I replied, staring up at him like I’d never seen a man in my life. I shook my head, trying to shake the fog from my brain. “Sorry…never mind.”

“Who’s Bella?”

“My best friend…well, I mean, she used to be,” I replied, reminding myself that I was pissed at her for getting me into this situation.

“Used to be? Why’s that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because she - um — I — never mind,” I stuttered, clamping my mouth shut quickly.

“Tell me,” he said, prodding me again, adding a gentle smile this time.

“Let’s just say she gave me some bad advice,” I said, dragging my eyes from his smoldering gaze.

“We’re going to be here all night, you might as well tell me,” he said, scooting over closer to me.

I hesitated, biting my bottom lip as I tried to decide how much I should tell him. I didn’t know anything about him, hell, I didn’t even know if I was really safe here, but all I had to go on was my gut, so I decided to trust it until it steered me wrong. Still, I chose my words carefully.

“Bella is the one who convinced me to go to Otto’s. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have been there…” my voice trailed off, the lie sliding off my lips, leaving a lingering taste of guilt on my tongue. So, she hadn’t convinced me exactly - in fact, she didn’t tell me to do it, nor did she even know I was there, but in my defense she had gone on and on about her biker. That was just about the same thing, if you asked me.

“Only two reasons a girl goes to Otto’s,” Dante said, raising an eyebrow.

“And what are those?” I asked, a ripple of electricity running through my body as I met his gaze again.

“Drinkin’ and fuckin’, basically,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, winking at me. “Mostly fuckin’.”

A hot blush crept into my cheeks as I pulled my eyes away again. For fuck’s sake, was it that obvious? Of course it was. What was I thinking?

I was being completely naive. What the hell was wrong with me? I knew better than this. I was a Loprinzi, for fuck’s sake. I knew not to trust anyone.

“Look, I really should go home,” I stood up quickly, more determined than ever to get out of here. To get away from this man who’s eyes peered into mine like he was looking into my soul, as if I were standing stark naked in front of him.

“Sure, sure,” he said, leaning back on the couch, stretching his long, thick arms along the back of the couch, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his incredibly beautiful face. “Tomorrow, Gabby.”

“What? Tomorrow?! I’m sure those guys are gone by now,” I protested. There was no way I could wait till tomorrow.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But we haven’t even had dinner yet. Tell you what, you sit here and enjoy the fire, I’ll make us a few steaks and we’ll talk about it again after dinner,” he reached over and patted my knee, his hand hot and heavy, before he stood up, leaving me alone with Bear, the flickering orange flames, and my frustration.