CHAPTER SIX
A LONG LINE OF limousines snaked off the 110, down Flowers Street, slowly heading over to Figueroa to be waved into the secured area by the theater where tonight’s event was being held. As I sat beside Dante in one of those limos, my imagination ran wild with who could be in front of or behind us. I’d been so caught up in the whirlwind of finally being with Dante again, I didn’t even pause to consider I’d be surrounded by celebrities. I prayed I didn’t make a complete fool of myself if I came face-to-face with one of my favorite actors.
“Doing okay?” Dante squeezed my hand in his, forcing my attention away from the window and back to him.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I gave him a sly grin. “You’re the one nominated for an award.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Why not?” I tilted my head at him.
“I don’t do what I do for recognition,” he answered, as if it were obvious. “I do what I do because I enjoy it. I love traveling and experiencing new food, new cultures, new people. It makes me more forgiving and compassionate, I think. Being able to share my journey with other people in the hopes they learn something from the people I’ve met and places I’ve been… That’s what makes my job rewarding. Not the accolades and commendations, but the thought that maybe I’ve opened someone’s eyes just a little bit.”
“That’s probably why you’ve won the past four years. Because you’re humble. Because you’d do what you do even if no one watched your show.”
He chuckled, his lips slowly curving up at the corners. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure the network would have canceled me a long time ago if that were the case.”
“True.” I glanced out the window as the convention center came into view, then looked back at Dante. “Do you have a speech written?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never written a speech. I guess I’m a bit superstitious. The first time I was nominated, I didn’t want to ruin my chances by being too sure of myself. And I won. So, every year, I don’t write a speech.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, revealing a cocktail napkin with a list of names on it, mine at the top. “But I do bring a list of people I want to thank, in order of importance, in case I do win.” He winked.
“Order of importance?” My forehead winkled as I considered his words, staring at his barely legible scrawl on the worn napkin. “My name’s on top.”
“Because you’re the most important person in my life.”
I opened my mouth to respond, then snapped it shut, hesitating.
“What is it?” Dante pushed.
“Nothing,” I replied quickly.
“Eleanor.” He grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes to his. He narrowed his gaze, his expression challenging me. “Remember our deal earlier.” He leaned toward me, feathering his lips against my cheek, the tiniest hint of a charge rushing through me. “You do as I say tonight and you’ll be rewarded. Unless you don’t want to play anymore.” He cocked a brow.
I vehemently shook my head. “No. I do.”
“Then tell me what you were going to say.”
I sucked in a breath. “When did you write this list?” I shifted my gaze back to the napkin in his hand. It looked as if it had been in his pocket for weeks, maybe months.
“When my show was nominated,” he answered in a very matter-of-fact tone.
“Which was when?”
“Mid-July.”
“Mid-July?” I shook my head. “But…”
“But what?
“That was only a few weeks after I walked away from you, just a few weeks after we met.”
“And like I told you the day we said goodbye… I will always love you. No matter what. You’re an important part of my life.”
“Isn’t it too soon? Too fast? Even now?” I paused, then added, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered to be on your list, but at the top?”
“Eleanor.” He licked his lips, gathering his thoughts. “I need you to understand something about me. Something you probably already know, but it bears mentioning. I’m not like everyone else in your life. When I feel something, I say it. After everything I’ve been through, after losing Lilly, then Ali, I vowed to always tell someone how I felt about them. If you wait, you may never get the chance.” His voice wavered, his composure cracking momentarily.
“I would have given anything to have the chance to tell Lilly I loved her one more time.” He swallowed hard. “I have a chance with you. I will always tell you how I feel. How much I love you. How important you are to me. It doesn’t matter if you return those feelings. I’m not saying it to earn a favor or hope to gain something from it, as you’re accustomed to. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. It makes me wild with rage to think your parents made you believe no one could love you without an ulterior motive, that no one would ever simply just love you for you. Because I do. And I always will. Never question my loyalty or devotion to you. I promise never to give you a reason to doubt me. Just lower your guard and let me love you. Bene?”
Speechless, I stared at him, my lips parting as I struggled to come up with an adequate response. How could I possibly say anything meaningful to that, to this man who poured his heart out to me with no hint of hesitation. Instead, I simply replied, “Bene.”
“Bene,” he said once more, clutching my hand in his as Bradley stepped out from behind the wheel. I whipped my head to the window, seeing we were at the end of our line, all the limos in front of us having dropped off their passengers. Now, it was our turn, our time to shine.
The door opened and Bradley stoically held his hand out to help me from the limo, although I sensed a bit of reluctance on his part. Careful not to get my heel caught on the hem of my gown, I emerged into the bright California sun, pulling my shawl closer to fight against the slight chill in the September air. I remained motionless for a moment, mesmerized by the frenzy surrounding me. I recalled the many times I lounged on the couch with Mila as her eyes were glued to the television during these specials. Never did I think I’d be walking that same red carpet with a nominee.
A hand fell on my hip and I looked to my left, Dante standing by my side. “Are you ready?”
“I suppose,” I answered, trying to mask my nerves.
He tilted my chin back, forcing my eyes to his. “I won’t leave your side. I promise. It’s my job to take care of you.”
“I’m not some meek little thing in need of protection, Dante,” I reminded him.
“I am more than aware of that fact. But tonight, I want to take care of you. I don’t want you to have to worry about a single thing. I want you to be able to stop thinking and just enjoy life for a few hours. Okay?” He stared at me, the devotion in his dark pools all-consuming.
“Okay,” I squeaked out.
“Bene.” He pulled back. “Andiamo.” He steered me through the media circus, bright lights competing with the luster of the sunshine on this perfect afternoon.
Once we were allowed access to the red carpet, I stared in awe at the atmosphere. I couldn’t help the smile that built on my lips as I remained on Dante’s arm, soaking it all in. It looked just like it did on TV. Stars wore perfectly tailored tuxedos and designer gowns, some of them stretching the envelope. I may have been a bit biased, but Dante was the best-looking man here. He had a sort of rugged appeal. He’d shaven, which made him appear a few years younger than he was, but his hair still had a disheveled quality to it. What made him more attractive was the way he looked at me, even here, surrounded by Hollywood’s elite. He had a way of making me feel like the most beautiful person in the room, and tonight was no different.
Noticing my eyes surveying the lines of his face, he smirked, leaning down to feather his lips against my temple. “What are you thinking, passerotta?”
We stopped walking and I met his fiery gaze. “Sembri molto carino,” I answered, practicing some of the Italian I’d taught myself over the past few months, telling him how handsome he looked.
“Sei così bella, amore mio. Tu sei l’unica donna che vedo.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, my cheeks flushing as I listened to Dante murmur Italian in my ear. There was something so seductive about the sound. He could have been discussing something as mundane as taking the garbage out, but the tone of his voice made my toes curl, the hair on my arms stand on end.
“That you’re beautiful, that you’re the only woman I see.”
I sighed at his words. He’d told me this exact thing on numerous occasions, even as recently as the past few hours, but I still wasn’t tired of hearing it.
“Now, shall we go make all the reporters and photographers wonder who this beautiful treasure is on my arm?”
I grinned, stepping out of my shell. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”
“That’s my girl.”
He gripped my hip, leading me through the area, stopping every few feet to pose for the myriad of photographers present. At first, I attempted to step away, thinking they wouldn’t want me in the shot, but Dante kept his firm hold on me, not permitting me to leave his side. It bound another piece of my heart to him.
Just as we were almost clear of the red carpet area, a heavily made-up blonde reporter for one of the entertainment news stations shoved a microphone in his face. “Dante Luciano,” she said, the lilt in her tone making it sound as if they were old friends. Lights shined on both of us, a cameraman inching closer and closer. “Are you feeling confident about adding win number five to your collection?”
“We’ll see,” he answered, a bright smile on his face. This was the Dante Luciano the rest of the world knew. It wasn’t my Dante Luciano. I counted myself truly lucky to know who he was when the cameras stopped rolling and the lights turned off. “A wise woman once said what’s meant to be will be.” He glanced at me. I gave him a small smile, recalling his mother telling me those exact words. Then he looked back at the blonde. “If I’m meant to take home number five, I’m sure it will happen.”
“It’s been a bit of an exciting year for you, hasn’t it? We heard a few rumors about your crew being shot at when you were on location in Beirut.”
My eyes darted to him, my pulse increasing. I hadn’t heard about that. Then again, I hadn’t really gone looking. I knew what he did for a living, what his show was about, but it never dawned on me that he may get hurt…or worse.
“That was just the media blowing it out of proportion,” he answered without missing a beat. “A kid found a gun on the street and thought it was a toy. Our equipment suffered more damage from the few stray bullets than myself or any of the crew.”
“So you’d go back?”
“Without a doubt.”
She smiled a fabricated smile, then her attention shifted to me, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to figure out who I was.
“And your date this evening?” She looked back at Dante. “Someone from back home?”
“No,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes as he gazed upon me. “She’s an American I had the pleasure of running into this summer when she visited the Eternal City. This is Eleanor Crenshaw.”
“Crenshaw.” She turned her attention back to me, her eyes widening as realization covered her expression. “Of course. The daughter of Senator Crenshaw.” She laughed. “He must have a few choice words about your relationship with Dante Luciano, considering they’re political opposites.”
“Eleanor’s a grown woman who is more than capable of making her own decisions,” he responded before I even had a chance to offer a rebuttal. “But rest assured, you will all be seeing much more of her in the months and years to come.” His lips formed into a tight line before saying, “Have a good evening.” He placed his hand on my lower back and steered me away from the reporter.
I cocked a brow at him once we were clear of the cameras. “Years?”
“Si. Years. If you’ll have me.”
“Dante…”
“Shh.” He hushed me, covering my mouth with his, his kiss full, deep, bewitching. For a moment, all the voices in my head shouting the reasons I shouldn’t get my hopes up about a future with Dante had grown mute. In its place was his deep baritone, murmuring words of affection, urging me to see him and only him, to forget about my past and only think about the present. “I told you. Tonight isn’t about thinking. We’ll do all that later. Tonight is for you to enjoy yourself. Shut your big, beautiful brain off for a few hours and let go.”
“Okay,” I murmured, still breathless from his kiss.
“Good.” He gave me a sly smile, guiding me into the theater that was abuzz with even more activity. Attendees mingled in their gowns and tuxedos, imbibing in champagne under a gilded ceiling and lavish chandelier, my surroundings reminiscent of the heyday of Hollywood.
“Do you need to use the restroom beforehand?” he asked. “I’d recommend it.”
“Actually, yes.”
“This way.” He led me through the lobby, stopping outside the ladies’ room.
“I’ll only be a minute.” I was about to turn from him when he stopped me, yanking my body against his. His sudden movement nearly took the breath from me.
“I want you to do something for me,” he murmured in a seductive voice that made part of me want to rip off my dress and have him pin me against this very wall.
I swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“I want you to bring me your panties.”
My breath hitched and I blinked, peering into his dark, hooded eyes. Smiling a playful smile, I raised myself onto my toes, brushing my lips against his neck. I felt a shiver roll through him, loving that I had such an effect on him.
“I’d rather you take them off.”
His grip on me tightened. “As do I,” he answered, his voice almost a growl. “But remember our little game. You do as I say and you get rewarded. I’d love nothing more than to bend you over and rip those panties off with my teeth. But that will have to wait until later. So go in there, do what you need to do, and bring me your panties.” He cupped my ass, squeezing hard. “Do you understand, passerotta?”
All I could do was nod in response, rendered mute.
“Bene.” He released his hold on me, and I began to walk away. I’d only managed a few steps before I felt a hand grab my elbow, my eyes widening as I was tugged against his body again. “One more thing, Eleanor.”
“Yes?” I swallowed hard, my heart in my throat as heat bloomed on my cheeks.
He leaned toward me, peppering kisses down my jawline. “Are you wet right now?”
My chest heaved as my cheeks heated. I was sure my appearance had grown flushed over the course of the past few minutes. Licking my lips, I closed the distance between our mouths. “Soaked,” I whispered.
He clenched his jaw, then released me from his hold. “Go. Now.”
With a smile, I turned from him, glancing over my shoulder. Satisfaction coursed through me when I saw he was barely maintaining his composure as he watched me with an unwavering gaze. Blowing him a kiss, I ducked into the restroom, my body trembling…in the best way possible.
I walked past a long row of stalls, although stall wasn’t quite the right word. Each toilet was in its own small room. I stepped into one toward the end, locking the door behind me just as I felt my phone buzz in my clutch. I retrieved it, seeing a text from Dante.
Tick-tock, passerotta.
My cheeks flushing, I hurriedly went about my business. When I was done, I crumbled my panties into a ball, shoved them into my clutch, then stepped out of the stall, heading to the long line of sinks to wash my hands.
As I emerged back into the lobby, Dante’s eyes raked over me, a devious glint in his gaze. He slowly walked toward me, a scintillating dominance in his stride.
“I believe you have something for me?” He cocked a brow.
“I do.” I opened my clutch, doing my best to discreetly remove the bright red lacy panties and hand them to him.
He made no effort to hide them. Instead, he brought them up to his nose, inhaling a long breath. My eyes widened and I reached to take them from him, shooting a nervous glance at everyone surrounding us. What if a camera had picked that up?
He grasped my wrist, preventing me from ripping them out of his hands. “Don’t. You have no idea how much I want to bury my face between your legs, Eleanor. This is the next best thing.”
“But people might see you.” I chewed on my lower lip.
“Let them. I don’t care. In fact, I want them to see me, to see us.” Smiling deviously, he arranged my panties in the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket, ignoring the horror crawling across my face.
I knew there was no winning this battle with him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him using my panties as a pocket square didn’t excite me even more than I already was. “Just promise you won’t whip them out when you go up there to make your acceptance speech.” I placed my hands on his lapels.
“I make no guarantees for my behavior tonight. I never can when you’re around. You bring out something inside me.” He clasped my hand, leading me across the lobby.
“What’s that?” We followed the crowd, everyone getting ready to take their seats for the start of the awards.
“It’s hard to explain.” He tugged me closer as we navigated our way down the long aisle toward the front of the theater. “A strange sort of protectiveness. I want everyone to see you with me, but I want to throttle every man who even thinks about looking at you in a way I don’t like. I want everyone to know you’re mine…” He leaned toward me, his lips close to my skin, heating my flesh. “That only my cum has ever filled you, that only my teeth have ever tugged on your nipples, that only my tongue has ever licked your pussy.”
My breathing grew ragged as I tried to maintain my composure, cameras and lights everywhere. Any number of photographers could have snapped my picture and seen how flushed and unhinged I was just from Dante’s words. I was ready to haul him out of this theater, award be damned.
“If you keep going, I may just come right now,” I murmured, feeling lightheaded.
“You’d better not. Not unless I say so.” He narrowed his gaze as he slowed to a stop about eight rows from the stage. “Remember our game, as long as you’re still willing to keep playing.”
I lifted my lips to his. “I never want it to end,” I said against his mouth.
“Good girl.” He paused, then pulled away, acting as calm and unaffected as usual as he turned his attention toward several members of his production team who had already arrived. He introduced me around, all of them saying something to the effect of “So this is Eleanor,” to which Dante simply smiled, tightening his hold on me.
When the show was about to begin, Dante pulled me into my seat beside him right on the aisle, which increased my suspicions he was probably going to win. The lights dimmed, and I was immersed in a mesmerizing display of talent. I normally hated sitting through speech after speech, but being here in person was completely different. It was inspiring to sit mere feet away from some of the most gifted people in this industry, to hear them talk about how they never thought they’d get here, how they truly believed some higher power intervened and made it all possible.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Dante leaned toward me during one of the music breaks, resting his hand on my thigh. I could have been wrong, but I was fairly certain he had the slit in the skirt elongated so it ran almost all the way up to my hip.
I met his eyes, smiling. “I am.”
He leaned even closer. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sit next to you knowing you’re not wearing any panties.”
I studied his demeanor, the epitome of composure and poise. But what his behavior masked, his eyes couldn’t — the fire, the heat, the unmistakable urgency I saw making me breathless with a yearning of my own.
He reached for my shawl that was draped haphazardly at my side, arranging it over my legs. My eyes widened as his hand slithered beneath the sheer fabric, sliding under the slit of my dress, urging my legs apart.
I held my breath, staring at Dante, my inner voice telling me this was wrong. He simply smirked, leaning toward me once more. “I want to feel you, Eleanor.”
The sensation of his breath so near my skin sent a ripple through me and my muscles relaxed, my legs parting slightly. His finger lighted against my center, and a sigh fell from my lips.
“I know you want this, too.”
I did my best to maintain the little composure I had left, my body wound tight from the lead-up to this moment. I’d wanted Dante to fuck me in the elevator of the hotel. Hell, I was ready to crawl onto his lap and straddle him while we waited in that long line of limos. Once we’d arrived here, having to stand at his side and see him smirking at me all evening, my panties stuffed in the pocket of his tuxedo jacket, I was ready to lose all control. I needed to lose all control.
“Tell me you want this,” Dante whispered, his voice still demanding.
“I want this,” I murmured back.
He released a subtle groan, his nose grazing my neck, inhaling. “They’re getting ready to announce the nominees for my category,” he said, his voice still a low whisper as he continued rubbing my slickness all over me, inserting a finger, then another, stretching me.
I moved against him, my hunger for release overpowering all sense of reason or propriety. With each word, each kiss, each whisper of his desire, everything my parents had ingrained in my subconscious was slowly being dismantled by this amazing, passionate, sensual man.
“The cameras will be on us for a moment when they do so.” His rhythm increased. “I have no intention of taking my hand away.”
I held my breath, gripping the armrests tighter as my body loomed perilously close to the peak.
“And I have no intention of doing so until you come, even if they announce I’m the winner. I’m not going up there until you come all over my fingers. And every time you see me lift my hand to my nose, you’ll know it’s your scent I’m inhaling, your scent I’m getting hard over.”
I bit back the moan that wanted to fall from my lips, moving with more urgency, but still trying not to be obvious about what we were doing. This man was going to be the death of me. Death by orgasm sounded like the best way to go, though.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard the announcers come on stage to introduce the category Dante was nominated in. One of the cameramen approached, crouching down in the aisle to get the shot needed. This only forced Dante to fuck me with his fingers even harder. I tried to pretend the camera wasn’t there, to act as if my obviously flushed expression wasn’t about to be plastered all over television screens across the country while Dante had his hand between my legs, to act as if my parents weren’t about to throw a fit of epic proportions when they realized I was with him. None of that mattered right now. All that did was making Dante happy. And giving him my orgasm would make him happy.
They began announcing the nominees, and Dante clutched my chin with his free hand, forcing my eyes to him. “Look at me. Just see me. No one else right now.”
“Only you,” I breathed, keeping my gaze locked on his, even when he broke away to smile at the camera as they announced his name as a nominee.
I didn’t look away until one of the announcers said those familiar words. “And the winner is…” The seconds seemed to stretch as one of the celebrities on stage opened the envelope, then smiled at the audience. My body climbed higher and higher, my motions becoming more and more frenzied as I chased my orgasm. “Dante Luciano, for No Stone Unturned.” My breathing becoming even more ragged, my muscles clenching, I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming from the ecstasy shooting through me, my body quivering around Dante’s hand at the same time as the audience erupted in applause.
Shooting me a devious smile, his hand lingered between my legs for a moment longer, then he withdrew. He slowly stood, turning to me and bringing me to my feet, although my limbs felt shaky as my orgasm still swelled through me.
I tried to give him space, to let him bask in this moment of victory. It was his. He worked hard for this and deserved the spotlight. Instead, he folded his arms around me, crushing my body against his, his lips moving against mine, leaving me breathless. Much to my surprise, I made no move to push him away for fear the world would witness this exchange. In fact, I wanted them to see us, to see that this man was mine and I his, to see how much he loved me, how much he craved me, how much he burned for me.
I curved into him, running my hands through his hair as I felt the final chain my parents had shackled around me incinerate with the heat of Dante’s kiss, the ecstasy in his touch, the admiration in his love.