And on the ride back to the hotel, he took another call from a woman in another country who I could hear begging to come see him or fly him out to see her.
It reminded me that Dante was a man of the world and I was a woman in her own Eat Pray Love fairy tale. I needed to conquer number five more than ever.
If I couldn’t, my whole time here would be ruined.
I mumbled a thank-you to him and slammed my door before he could say anything else. I was happy I’d kept the dating app, even though I hadn’t responded to any of the messages until last night. That was when I’d decided Troy might be able to at least get me out of the hotel to go have a few drinks at a bar.
I could get drunk on mojitos and explore guys tonight. It was a win-win.
I dressed in the yellow two-piece outfit I’d worn out with Dante just the other day. His eyes had been glued to me from the moment I’d put it on, and it made me feel attractive.
When I opened my hotel door, Dante stood there in the hallway. His eyes ate up my whole body as he looked me up and down, burning every part of my exposed skin with the heat we shared between us. “Fuck, Delilah, not that dress.”
“Jesus, Dante. Why are you outside my door?” I let it slam shut behind me.
“I should have burned that thing the first time you wore it,” he grated out, his eyes still stuck on the material.
“You seemed to like it. You stared at it then like you’re doing now.”
Those piercing jade eyes sliced up my body to meet my gaze, and they burned bright with emotion. “I like it enough to know I’m going to ruin it later. And if your date touches my friend in it, I’ll probably ruin him too.”
I breathed in and out, chewed on my cheek, and then bit my lip as our standoff in that hallway went down. “If we’re friends, we won’t ruin each other’s things. I didn’t ruin your call with that woman on the way back to the hotel tonight, did I?”
“Did you want to, Lamb?” he asked and tipped his head.
He caught me combing my hand through my hair angrily as I said, “No, of course not.”
He smiled. “Go on your date. Bring him back to meet me, huh? Let’s see if he can make you forget the way your pussy feels with my cock in it.”
My jaw dropped at his words, and he brushed past me as if he could talk like that and get away with it.
I should have smacked him across the face, but he was gone before I picked my jaw up off the floor.
I stewed all the way down to the lobby and stomped to the stupid black SUV with Leonardo in it.
Of course Dante had set up my ride.
My date was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and had a way of smooth-talking that didn’t exactly feel slimy. Not that I was paying that much attention.
Instead, I was downing my drinks and glaring at my phone, willing Dante to text me to say he was watching me through Leonardo. I even danced to a couple of songs with Troy in the hopes that it would push Dante to text.
When the third song turned fast and pushed the bass and tempo to new levels, I rolled my hips into Troy’s and felt his hands slide over my midsection.
I held my phone in my hand the whole time I was out on that dance floor, and when it vibrated, I practically preened because I was being an immature teenager still wanting her first crush to get jealous over her.
I excused myself to hurry to the bathroom and see what the text said.
Dante: I’m coming to get you. Tell me the name of the bar.
Jesus, typing to him after I’d had four mojitos wasn’t the easiest.
Me: I’m having a good time. Let your friend have a good time with her date.
Dante: Your date is a handsy fuckboy. What bar?
Me: Like you can’t get the name from Leonardo
Dante: Fuckers won’t give it to me. I even called Cade. Don’t make me go to every one to find you.
Me: Troy and I are coming back to the hotel soon. Go to bed, friend. I’ll be doing number five.
Me: Lol doooing … get it?
I was going to regret drinking and texting in the morning.
Dante: How many drinks have you had?
Me: Two or three … or …
Me: Seven brings heaven, right?
Dante: You bring him back here and I’ll remove every part of his body he’s placed on you.
Me: Not very military of you.
Dante: I’m not military anymore. I’m an Armanelli. Get your ass back to the hotel. Now. Or I’ll find you and drag you back myself.
He couldn’t tell me what to do. But suddenly, Leonardo was knocking on the bathroom door and shaking his head at me. “We have to go. I can’t lose my job over this.”