*“So, Belle …”
Belle glanced over at her brother. They’d ridden in comfortable silence most of the way to Bialga. Jack nursed a takeaway coffee, sipping occasionally, while she’d made do with an orange juice.
“Yes?”
“This thing with you and Dante, is it official?”
Belle clamped her lips closed and looked out the window at the early morning view.
She shrugged.
“That’s not an answer.”
She slumped back into the seat of his dual-cab ute and picked at a bit of window tint that had lifted in the corner.
“No. Not official.”
“Not yet, or isn’t going to be?”
She frowned a little, then blew out her breath. It looked like she wasn’t going to get away from this conversation anytime soon. Most likely he’d report straight back to her father.
“Let’s just say that I’d like it to be, but it’s unlikely.”
Jack frowned. “Because?”
“How would I know? I haven’t discussed it with him yet.”
“Any particular reason why not?”
“Jack—”
“I’m only asking because I actually care.” He glanced at her. “Dante’s good people. I like him, I always have. But I don’t want him hurting you. You know, if he’s pushed it on you or anything like that.”
Belle let out a laugh and looked over to see Jack’s surprised face. “Big Brother, it wasn’t him who propositioned me.”
And she’d gambled everything they had on doing so. Sure, she’d wanted him to be her first, but in all honesty she’d wanted to see what if?
“Ahh …” His posture relaxed into the comfy seat, and he nodded. “I see.” He turned to enter the street where the train station was. “I did wonder.”
Belle rubbed her hands over her black capri pants. “What made you twig to it?”
Picking his brain seemed a good idea. Particularly if Dante wanted to keep things quiet, she could change any out-of-place behaviour so that the locals didn’t catch on.
Jack shrugged one shoulder, then smiled. “At Max’s Halloween party. You were plastered over Dante on the dance floor and he looked like he was in pain. Then you guys disappeared, and you came home the next morning. I mean, I knew you had a room in town for the night.” He laughed and shook his head. “I saw Dante’s car pull in his drive just after dawn. I went for a run nice and early and had just started back up our driveway and heard a car.”
He grinned at her. “So, you got caught out big-time.”
Belle crossed her arms. “You do know Mallory-Jayne has more than one room, right?”
Jack grunted noncommittally. “Yeah, right. I knew he’d spent the night with you, even if it was only sleeping in the same room. But when you called him to come over when the wine got wrecked? He looked at you differently. More, I don’t know … gentle?”
Belle nodded. She honestly didn’t mind that Jack knew. She trusted him. He wouldn’t say anything if she didn’t want him to.
Publicly, anyway. What he said to Dante in private, though, that was another story altogether. She had no control over that.
Jack pulled up outside the station and faced her. “Are you happy with how things are going with him?”
Belle grabbed her small overnight bag and hugged it on her lap. She glanced at her watch.
Twenty minutes early.
“I think so?”
At his continued silence, she finally looked him square in the face.
“So far, yes. It’s not really a thing, as such.” She shrugged and opened the door. “I’m going to have a few days away with my best friend. I’d love it to be more, but I guess I’m going to have to wait and see what happens.”
She pecked a kiss on his cheek and hopped out of the ute. Jack’s chuckle made her look back at him as she closed the door. He pushed the window button to lower it and leaned his arm on his own sill.
“I can tell you now, the look on his face, I’ve seen it before—on my own face. I might not know him as well as you do, but I’m pretty sure he’s falling for you.”
He pulled away, leaving Belle standing in the car park, open-mouthed.
*
I’m here.
By the time she’d flopped into the cab at the station in Sydney, Belle was exhausted.
She chuckled to herself at that. Exhausted from doing nothing at all. She’d sat on her ass almost the entire way there, except the times she’d had to get up and stretch her legs, worried she’d solidify into stone if she sat a moment longer.
She wasn’t used to doing nothing. Her days, and evenings, were often so busy she had to fight to find time to sit. Her weekly evening picnics at the Casellatis’ from spring through to autumn were often the only reprieve she got.
Her phone pinged and the smile and thumbs-up emoji flashed at her.
It flashed again.
I’ve left a key for you in an envelope at the registration desk. It’s under your name.
Thanks.
She stroked her thumb over the tiny icon picture she had of him next to his name in her messages app.
Could Jack be right?
No. Don’t be silly.
But … could he?
She’d waged the same war with herself the whole trip down. She’d ended up listening to a creepy thriller audiobook, just to get the idea out of her head.
She hated how much she wanted her brother to be right. She knew Dante cared for her, loved her—as a friend.
Would that extend to romantic love now that they were technically friends with benefits? Or was that wishful thinking on her part, particularly considering his feelings on permanent relationships?
She loved him more than anything as a friend, but she hadn’t let herself dwell on her feelings for him past that. Hadn’t dared for the sake of her own self-preservation.
She growled in frustration and handed over some cash to the taxi driver when they reached the hotel. Key in hand, she tapped it to the door numbered on the little cardboard cover and sighed in relief when it opened.
She smiled wearily as she looked around the room and popped the key onto the air conditioning tab.
Dante had sure picked a gorgeous boutique hotel. Exquisite furnishings and tasteful art and décor looked back at her.
Perfect.
She’d been so worried she’d oversleep and miss the train that she’d barely slept at all the previous night.
The clock on the bedside table glowed one-oh-nine.
Dante wouldn’t be back for hours yet. She set her alarm for four-thirty; that would allow her plenty of time to wake up and make herself presentable before he got in at five.
At the least, she wouldn’t look all sleep rumpled and messy.
Nodding to herself, she stripped to her knickers and dumped her clothes over the back of the fancy chair that sat in front of the desk. She pulled the curtains closed, slipped into the bed, and hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness.
She shivered at the coolness of the crisp, thick sheets on her naked skin. Her nipples pebbled and she cupped her breasts, imagining it was Dante doing it.
She’d know soon enough if he was interested in fooling around while she was here, but in the meantime, she was in serious need of sleep, not touching herself in a hotel bed.
Thinking about Dante and beds had made her as horny as hell. It had been barely a week since they’d had their night together at Mallory-Jayne’s.
She grinned into the dark.
Maybe she’d play just a little …
*
Dante let himself into his hotel room and squinted into the dark. He shut the door quietly and used the torch on his phone instead of turning on the lights.
A lump on the bed brought a smile to his face.
Belle wasn’t an early bird. Up late most nights with the restaurant, she often slept in way past his own rising time. During summer particularly, he was out in the shed or looking at the vines by six AM.
He toed off his shoes and set his notebook down on the desk, taking note of the clothes bundled over the back of the chair.
A lime-green bra sat haphazardly on top.
He sucked in a breath and faced the bed again.
Was she completely naked?
He closed his eyes for a moment and held his breath.
Nope. Wasn’t going to work. Just the thought of her being naked, whether she was in reality or not, had his blood singing and his body reacting.
He couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed by it. She was in his bed, after all.
He moved over to the side of the bed and sat down carefully beside her hips. She was sprawled on her stomach, the sheets and blanket pushed down until they were just covering her ass.
His heart clunked. It suddenly seemed too big for his chest.
He stroked her spine gently, from nape to the top of the sheet covering that delectable ass from view. If he tugged it down a little …
He almost let free the laugh that tried to cough out of him.
If she woke up with him fondling her ass without permission, she’d likely slog him one.
He contented himself with long, slow strokes down her back. It would eventually wake her up and then he could gauge her reaction and receptiveness.
He shook his head at himself. She’d come all this way and the first thing he wanted to do was grope her. He was the very epitome of pathetic.
Dante reached over to place his phone on the edge of the side table and left the torch on. It only illuminated a small patch, making sure Belle wouldn’t be disturbed by it.
The puddle of light highlighted some fabric on the floor near his foot that he hadn’t seen.
Knickers.
Oh, crap. She is naked.
His heart sped up then registered the item sitting tucked into the folded-over lacy pants. He frowned and flicked at it with his toe.
Holy Mother of …
Belle’s pint-sized vibrator.
Dante clenched his fist, closed his eyes, and counted to ten as slowly as he could.
He swore under his breath and continued stroking her back.
Control. He needed control.
He almost laughed. That was the one thing his body didn’t want. Every part of him screamed to ditch his clothes and get in with her. Touch her. Kiss her. She’d pleasured herself in his damned bed. His control hung on by the most tenuous thread.
She sighed heavily, taking her time to wake. Sleek muscles moved in a sensual display over her back in the gloom. He couldn’t help himself, he stroked her soft, warm skin again, taking his time.
A low purr-like sound escaped her at his touch. If he hadn’t been sitting already, he’d have fallen in a heap on his knees.
Belle rolled over, a slow smile winding across her mouth. Her heavy-lidded eyes drank in his face, her contented expression tumbling his gut into a seething mess of want. He couldn’t hold her gaze, it was too intense, too there. He looked down.
The sheet now lay crumpled low on her hips, just covering the crease between her legs. A tantalizing expanse of naked flesh taunted him, called to him, begged him to touch.
She had the most beautiful breasts known to man.
Shivers sent goosebumps exploding over his entire body at the touch of her hand on his jaw. He pulled his gaze from her body to her sleep-satiated face.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Her soft voice turned the shivers into shudders. Her hand slid from his face. She blinked, becoming more aware of her surroundings.
She drew in a sharp breath. He couldn’t see it, but he knew her cheeks were pinking, a flush spreading up from her neck to her face. She slapped her hands over her tits to cover them.
Bit late for that, B.
He hid his grin behind his hand and pretended to rub his face.
Belle tilted her head to glance at the clock on the side table. “You’re early. I set an alarm.”
He grinned. It was only just after four.
“If that means you wouldn’t have been in my bed when I got back, then I’m glad I’m early.”
She bit her lip and tried to shove herself up by her elbows. “I might, ah, have a shower.”
“B?”
She looked up at him as he stood, and she shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I kinda saw those sexy boobs that you’re trying so hard to hide. You may as well just let me look.”
She sent him a haughty, pursed look and stood up. The sheet fell from her hips, half on the floor. She stood there for a moment, motionless, then walked straight-backed and as elegantly as possible while buck naked, around the end of the bed toward the bathroom.
Dante’s blood combusted. She covered her tits, but the rest of her glorious body wandered past as if it were the most normal thing ever to walk around stark naked.
He spun and fell backward onto the bed and groaned out loud. He’d never get that image out of his head. Never wanted to.
“By the way, you left something on the floor here.”
He couldn’t help it, he had to tease her about it. Just payment for using it when he wasn’t around.
Feet slapping on the floorboards as she ran, then the slam of the bathroom door made him laugh aloud.
This was going to be the best few days of his life.