I wake in my own bed, and for a moment, I'm sure that the whole night was just a bad dream. Then I hear Dante yelling in the other room and I frown. The frown sends a streak of pain across my face and I sigh, knowing that it wasn't just a nightmare.

I sit up slowly. Luckily, all the x-rays came back negative. They seemed strangely concerned with having me cover my torso with the lead apron, but I had been to tired to care. A minor concussion, fourteen stitches on my face and twelve on the back of my head, and a full suite of bruises. The emotional trauma was just as bad. My pride is bruised as much as my body.

I see a voicemail on my phone.

“Ms. Savio. This is the doctor from last night. I need to speak with you when you get a chance. Please call me at this number.”

I frown a little. I hope they didn't find anything else wrong with my labs and tests after I left. I'd call them once I had some food.

I slither out of bed, trying to move as little as possible. I go to the living room to find Dante staring out the window, his fist balled up tight against the glass. He turns as he hears the bedroom door.

“Did I wake you?” He looks frustrated and runs a hand through his dark hair. “I'm sorry.”

“I just need some coffee.” I smile, moving my expression slowly to keep the pain away, and move closer to him. “You look like I feel. What's wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Dante just shakes his head and then forces a smile. “Would you like me to order you some breakfast?”

“Just coffee right now,” I tell him. My stomach is clenched tight with stress. If Dante's worried, then I'm worried. I touch his arm, trying to get him to open up to me. “You can tell me. Otherwise, I'll just worry.”

His smile stays wooden, but he leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Just business. Three new lawsuits, a broken contract, and to top it all off-” he pauses and holds up his phone for effect, “a reporter from the Times is calling to ask me about some rather concerning allegations. The police have already called me twice, and it's not even noon yet.”

“That's terrible.” I bite my lip. I don't like the way this sounds. He shrugs and goes to the kitchen and pours me a cup of coffee.

“It's strange, really,” Dante muses, adding a little sugar to the black liquid for me.

“How bad is it?” I ask, following him to the warm kitchen counter.

“Bad.” He frowns and hands me the cup of coffee. “But I don't want you to worry.”

I kiss him on the cheek and then take a sip of my coffee. It's sweet and perfect. Just like him. “How about I worry just a little bit? So you don't have to quite as much.”

He grins and kisses my head again. “I want you to know, I'm taking care of your problem. It should be solved by the end of the week. I can make it sooner if you want. The price isn't a problem.”

For once, I question my Aunt's lack of desire to use hired killers. In this situation, it feels justified.

“Thank you.” I mean it. I set my coffee down and smile up at him. A weight I didn't know was there lifts from my shoulders. I'm going to be free. Free of the monster that has haunted my dreams for so long. Really free. My mother avenged. And it's all because of Dante.

I kiss him. It starts sweet, but my hormones start to take over. I need him, more than just emotionally. I need to show Dante how much he means to me. How grateful I am that he's saving me.

I don't mean for it to become sexual, but what he is doing for me means so much, and I don't know any other way to thank him. I know how to show gratitude with my body, not my words. I need to show him.

He kisses me back until he remembers I'm injured.

“Vesper,” he says, pulling away . His hands are tangled in my hair. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Then be gentle,” I tell him, grazing my lips against his. “But I need you. I need to show you how much this means to me.”

I look up at him. He's so beautiful. Strong. Young. Safe. I'm safe with him.

He presses his lips against mine, his teeth nibbling on my lower lip as his tongue invades my mouth. He tastes sweet, like heaven.

His hands go to my hips. He makes sure that he doesn't hurt me. He kisses my lips, but then moves his mouth to my throat, down to my collar bone and then to the collar of my nightshirt. A low, happy noise of pleasure is the only sound I can make as he lifts my shirt and hooks his fingers around my panties and pulls. They slide off my legs easy and once I'm free of them, his hands are on my waist again.

With wonderful ease, he picks me up and sets me on the kitchen counter. The granite is cold on my bare butt, but everything else about me is heating up. The fires of lust are burning brightly deep in my belly. My body is craving more.

Dante puts his hands on my knees and spreads them wide. He goes to his knees, kissing up from my feet. He is so careful it makes me want to cry. From my feet, up my shins, up to my thighs, he avoids every bruise and scrape, concentrating on kissing only the skin that won't hurt at his touch. By the time he reaches the top of my legs, I'm panting with want.

His beautiful dark eyes flash up to mine once before he lowers his head and presses his tongue against my sweet spot. I whimper with pleasure, tangling my hands in his dark hair as he begins to work his magic. His tongue swirls and his lips suck and play with me in all the right ways.

My legs start to vibrate as I approach the precipice of my climax. All the stress of yesterday melts away under his careful ministrations. Mr. Norwood is going away and it's because of Dante. I'll be safe. No more fear.

I let myself go. Lights and colors fill my vision as my entire body clenches and rocks on ecstasy. This is what it feels like to be happy.

Slowly, once the colors fade, I open my eyes. Dante is staring up at me, watching me with those beautiful eyes of his. They are blue sapphires of adoration and care. His mouth curves upward slightly when our eyes connect. I can't help but smile back at him.

His hand grazes one of the large purple bruises on my thigh as he stands and I wince. I'm surprised that something so superficial can hurt so much, but the after-effects of my orgasm quickly diminish due to the sudden pain.

“Sorry,” Dante apologizes, moving his hand to a different spot. I can't help it. I squirm slightly at his touch, afraid that he will accidentally hurt me again. “I won't hurt you,” he says, putting his hand firmly on the counter where it won't do any harm.

I bite my lip and look up at him.

“Let me in, Vesper,” he coaxes, putting his hands on my knees and carefully avoiding the bruises. I let him push. I want to let him in. I want to have him with me. I relax and he steps into the space between my legs.

He kisses me again. I close my eyes and focus on the way his soft lips feel against mine. The gentle scratch of his stubble on my cheek and how his masculine, wonderful scent is taking me away. I love how good he smells.

Dante's hand slides down from his kiss, gentle and feather soft as he searches for my breast. He cups the swell of my breast though my nightshirt, teasing my nipple with his thumb. He's so gentle and his kisses are so warm.

My hands go to his belt and I fumble with the button on his pants as he continues his kissing. He's hard and long already. My fingers wrap around his shaft. It's like steel covered with satin. Suddenly, everything within me needs him. A need so strong that I can barely remember to breath because of it overcomes me. I need him in me. Now.

I wrap my legs around his waist, positioning his swelling girth and then guiding him into me. My legs tighten, drawing him further in. I love the small gasp he makes as he enters me. It's pure pleasure. I want more of him. I want all of him.

Dante pumps his hips in and out in a slow, lazy motion. There is no urgency, not yet, to his motions. This is all about my pleasure and showing me that he cares. This is slow and loving, not fast and hard. This is what I need. But I want more.

I tighten my legs around him, pulling him deeper and arching my back to give him even more.

“Vesper...” he groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and his fingers tightening on the counter. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

But I do. Because he does the same thing to me.

I put my hands on either side of his face and peer into his eyes. There's so much emotion there, yet so much youth. He is everything I want and shouldn't have. I don't deserve a love like his. He has so much potential that I almost feel guilty about marrying him and keeping him for myself. Almost.

“Don't hold back,” I whisper, looking deeply into his dark eyes. “I want you. Please.”

I squeeze my legs tighter, showing him what I mean in addition to the words. His pace quickens. Every thrust fills me with pleasure. I've forgotten the bruises and the pain for a moment. I'm lost on the pleasure he's giving me.

I watch with heavy lids as his brow furrows in concentrations, his motions becoming stronger and more insistent, until his eyes go wide. I feel the hot splash of his seed as he finds his release. It's like a gun going off and filling me with warmth and light. I draw him into me, pulling of much of his essence and strength into me as I can. I need him. I wish I could have a part of him inside of me like this forever.

“You drive me insane, Vesper,” Dante gasps. His eyes hold nothing but innocent love for me.

“Right back at you, Bond.” I grin and kiss his forehead. I can't believe how good I feel right now with him. “Thank you.”

He waits until his breathing is back to normal before stepping back and leaving me aching for him again. I feel strangely full and empty at the same time.

I grab the roll of paper towels from beside me and hand him several before getting some for myself. I slide off the counter, wincing as I catch a sore spot on my way down. We clean up, stealing smiles and glances.

It takes me a minute to find my panties, but I put them back on. I'm suddenly very tired. I need a pain pill and some more sleep. Or caffeine.

I reach for my coffee and find that it's still warm, which makes me smile. I take a pain pill and the antibiotic. I have to remember to check my birth control prescription, but that is low on my list of priorities. Life is good right now.. When John Norwood is dead, I can have mornings like this everyday. Without the bruises. I feel the world opening up with possibilities for me and Dante without Norwood haunting my past.

My phone, the one I only use for emergencies, starts to ring on the counter. Dante answers, then frowns and holds the phone out to me. “It's for you.”

I set down my coffee and take the phone with a bad feeling coming over me.

“I hear Mr. Russo is having a bad day.”

Mr. Norwood's voice makes my knees give out and I drop into a chair. My heart is pounding and I'm glad the only thing in my stomach is a couple of sips of coffee because I'm fairly sure I'm going to be sick.

“You want his problems to stop? Reign in your dog and I'll let him survive this.” I can hear the derision in Mr. Norwood's voice drip across every word like spilled blood. “You're mine, but I know how unhappy you'll be if anything bad happened to your young pet. Stop him from making a very stupid decision or the Feds will find his hit-man's receipts. He has some secrets I'm sure he'd rather not be shared.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because it's fun. Oh, and if you say a word of any of this to your little Dante-y, I'll have him killed. You know I can make it look like an accident.”

My mouth is dry as the line goes dead. All my happy, good feelings are gone. I'm empty and suddenly cold.

I wasn't free. I would never be free. I am doomed.

I drop more than set the phone down, but I twist my face into something that doesn't look like terror before I turn back to face Dante.

“Who was it?” he asks, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“My hair stylist just confirming an appointment.” Lying to him is surprisingly easy. I stand up and go to him. I need to protect him from this. Mr. Norwood wasn't bluffing. “Dante, I've been thinking. I don't want you to take care of Norwood. Stop whatever it is that you have planned. I've changed my mind.”

Dante frowns, confusion twisting his perfect brows. “You sure?” He looks me up and down, taking stock of all the bruises and stitches in the daylight. “I still want to kill him for what he did to you.”

I smile, ignoring the twist of pain it causes and place myself into his open arms. “I don't want him dead.” Yes, yes I do, but I don't want you hurt more. “It's just not the right timing.”

The words fall like drops of poison from my lips, but he tightens his arms around me.

“If that's what you want,” he murmurs, kissing my hair again. “I'll do anything you want to make you happy.”

I snuggle into him, trying not to feel like the biggest liar in the world. “I know.”

He checks his watch before sighing and releasing me. He peers at the stitches above my eye and frowns. “Are we still on for dinner tonight? My family will understand if we don’t make it.” His fingers trace the edge of the bruise and it's all I can do not to shy away from him. “We can call out for pizza if you prefer.”

“With the pizza you eat?” I think of the disgusting pizza he made me try not that long ago. “No way. Besides, the fancy risotto always makes me feel better.”

“Okay.” His face softens, but his eyes still hold concern. “I need to go to work now. Are you going to be all right here alone?”

“You can't stay?” The question comes out more like the plea of a small child and I feel embarrassed when he frowns.

“These lawsuits... they could be bad. I need to find out exactly what is happening.” The muscles of his jaw tighten slightly. “I can stay if you need me to, but--”

“No, no... I'll be fine,” I assure him. I can't be the reason for any more trouble on his part. “Promise. You go get things fixed and we'll have a nice dinner later.”

“I love you, Vesper.” His eyes tell me it's true.

“I love you, Bond.”