Author's Note:
Thank you for the reviews! This chapter went by really quickly, probably because I can't wait to get the next one, lol! Where we will be delving into Dante's mind and the reasoning behind his **insert swear word here** actions.
But I think you'll enjoy the end of this chapter a bit. ;)
Lulu locked the door behind her and tossed her coat and scarf negligently on the bench that sat in the entryway of her apartment. She sighed happily, still a little buzzed from the champagne, and sauntered down the hallway. She'd never dreamed she'd feel so satisfied running the magazine that she'd started as a lowly second assistant at. She smiled, thinking of Maxie. The two of them had worked for Kate Howard that by the time Kate had gotten so fed up with Port Charles and quit Crimson, Lulu and Maxie had been the natural replacements. As co-editors, Maxie ran the Port Charles branch, and Lulu had offered to move to Paris and work there.
The timing had definitely worked in her favor, Lulu admitted, opening the freezer for the ice cream she'd thought of earlier. Digging out the carton and a spoon, she leaned against the tall island in the kitchen and drifted back in time.
"Lulu, you have got to snap out of it," Maxie said impatiently. "What is going on? You ran into your bedroom three days ago and have barely come out of it since." She wrinkled her nose. "Not even to shower? Spill. This is about Dante, right? What happened? And you can forget about not telling me. Are we or are we not best friends?" Maxie paused. "Although I'm still not even sure how that happened. But anyway-"
"He hasn't even called," Lulu said dully, laying on her side and staring at the wall. The same wall she'd been staring at for days.
Maxie sat on the bed. "You had a fight?" she guessed, resting her hand on Lulu's leg.
Lulu managed a barking laugh, and managed to gather the strength to sit up. She tucked the blanket around her and shivered. She was so cold – she hadn't been warm since that night. Taking a breath, she lifted her eyes to Maxie's.
"Not a fight," she whispered. "He slept with Brenda." Even the words sounded foreign.
Maxie's mouth dropped open. Before she could speak, Lulu cut her off.
"Not recently," Lulu admitted. "Although he's lied about everything. I don't know. Maybe he did. Or has by now. I'm not making any sense."
Maxie looked at her in concern while Lulu tried to collect her thoughts.
"I was at his loft the other night," she began, trying to block the pain that radiated like a knife through her entire body. "He didn't realize I was there. Michael was spending the night at Carly's and I fell asleep waiting for Dante to come home." Lulu shoved a hand at her hair. "He came in with Brenda. They were talking about when he'd guarded her years ago. I woke up a little disoriented. We'd been working like crazy to make that deadline, remember?" Maxie nodded.
"Anyway, I was groggy, and slow getting up. I heard," Lulu stopped and her eyes welled up. Maxie rubbed her ankle. "Maxie, he lied about it right to my face. A couple of weeks ago when I first found out they'd met before. He claimed she didn't even remember him. And there they were, in Dante's living room, talking about how Sonny could never find out about them." Lulu rubbed her eyes tiredly.
"Sonny," she said bitterly. "My name was never even mentioned. Brenda was freaking out about Sonny, and Dante just sat there and told her not to worry." She looked away again. "I got out of bed. They looked over at me, and Dante – his face was like stone. I've never seen him like that before. It was like he was a different person. I don't even remember Brenda leaving. I tried to ask Dante what was going on. He wouldn't tell me anything. I screamed and cried and threw things and he wouldn't tell me anything." Lulu turned back to Maxie, tears streaming fully now. "He wouldn't tell me anything," she repeated. Maxie felt her own eyes start to water, and she scooted up the bed, wrapping her arms around her friend as Lulu sobbed brokenly.
Lulu took a breath and another spoonful of ice cream. Bad memories, she thought. She'd gotten through it, though. The promotion and the move to Paris had helped. Obviously Maxie would have loved to be the one to relocate. But she'd been like a rock. Telling Lulu that with everything happening in Maxie's family, Mac's house burning down, it wasn't right for her to leave. Lulu should go, spend time with her mom, get a new perspective. So she'd left.
And Dante had never called. Never offered any explanation. The last time she'd seen him had been in a haze of rage and hurt. Lulu slowly licked the last of the ice cream off the spoon. She'd thrown herself into work after that. She was a good boss, she'd found, still a little amazed by it. Her staff respected her, but they also liked her. And sales were at their all time highest. She rinsed the spoon and set it in the sink before walking down the dark hallway. She was satisfied with her career, had a wardrobe and shoe collection most women would, and did, envy, and she was happy. Well. Happy enough, she though ruefully. She still hadn't been able, or maybe willing, to start dating. And she missed sex.
Laughing at herself a little, she turned into her bedroom, not bothering with the light. She looked back, though, at the knock on her front door. Frowning, she started back down the hallway. Who could possibly be knocking on her door at…she looked at the clock on the wall…2:13 a.m.?
She checked the peep hole and squealed. Unlocking the door, she threw it open. "Lucky! What are doing here?" Lulu laughed and threw herself into her brother's arms, squeezing her eyes closed and just basking in his presence.
That was how Dante saw her first. Laughing, that gorgeous hair flying. He hadn't thought it would be like this. Like a punch to the gut to see her again. He kept his emotions in check, though, and had a feeling her reaction might be a little more...dramatic.
Lulu opened her eyes, still smiling, and saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. Her heart dropped with a thud as she turned slowly and looked into the eyes of the man she thought she'd never see again.
Dante cleared his throat as Lulu busied herself making coffee. Lucky had taken over, ushering them both into the apartment as Lulu tried to collect herself. She had yet to say a word to him, but she also hadn't kicked him out, which had been a relief. Now she was messing around at the counter, heating water on the stove, scooping coffee into some kind of odd canister with a lid that pressed down. Intrigued, he stepped closer, and immediately cursed himself as she stiffened.
He stepped back and exchanged a glance with Lucky. So far her reaction hadn't been as bad as he'd thought, for the most part. This might work out after all. They just had to talk rationally about why they were there.
Lulu was seething. How dare he come here? And what the fuck was Lucky thinking? She had half a mind to shove both of them out the door. Only pure shock had had her allowing them to come in at all. Now they were standing in her kitchen, and she was making coffee. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before turning to face them. There was no way she was letting Dante see how tumultuous her feelings were. He was here for now, and she would treat him civilly and get him out of her life again as quickly as possible. She would not, by God, let him see any pain, or any emotion from her, at all.
Dante watched her carefully. The initial shock seemed to have worn off, and her face looked calm. He was wary though, remembering her temper. As she moved around the elegant kitchen, gathering cups and saucers, he remembered a lot of things. She looked…well, amazing, he thought. That dress was a killer, and was short enough that the silk kept fluttering around her legs as she walked. High on her legs, he thought, and tried to remember to exhale. Her feet were bare, and he saw her toenails were painted a shade of purple that should have looked ridiculous, but on her looked insanely sexy. His gaze wandered up, and he cleared his throat again and tried to look away from the strapless neckline.
Lucky kicked him under the table. "You're about to start drooling any minute, man," he said under his breath as the water began to whistle. "Pull yourself together."
Dante knew he was right. This was not the time to think about her body, or how vividly he could remember how well he knew that body. How it felt wrapped around his, under his…
He jolted as Lucky kicked him again, and he scrubbed a hand over his face.
Lulu brought the coffee to the island where the men were sitting. She poured a cup for Lucky, adding a heavy dose of the sugar he couldn't live without. She glanced at Dante. "Cream or sugar?" she asked, as though he was a stranger.
He tucked his tongue in his cheek. So she didn't remember how he took his coffee, huh. "Black. Just like yours," he added, unable to resist. Lulu pushed down the urge to punch him in the face, and purposefully added cream to her coffee. Dante fought the sudden urge to grin.
Sipping slowly, she smiled at Lucky. "So how long are you in Paris for?" she asked. "You're lucky you caught me, you know. I just got in."
Dante's eyes narrowed. Was she trying to get under his skin? He watched her lick her top lip and was certain she was.
"We just-" he began, but she cut him off.
"You're more than welcome to stay here," she said smoothly, still speaking only to Lucky. She spared a glance at Dante.
"There's a very nice hotel down the street," she offered helpfully. This time he couldn't quite disguise the laugh as a cough, and Lucky took over.
"Lulu, I'm sorry for just showing up like this," he said, and hoped she would forgive him eventually. "But there is a reason." He glanced at Dante again.
"We think you're in danger."
Lulu tossed in bed, thinking about the conversation. It was like the universe was conspiring against her, she thought bitterly. Lucky had said only that Interpol had contacted him after learning of his connection Lulu. They'd had suspicions for some time that she was being targeted by a very dangerous man. The same man who had stalked Brenda Barrett. She pushed the pillow under her head and grimaced. She would die happy if she never heard the name Balkan again.
Lucky hadn't wanted to go into detail yet. She couldn't figure out what he wasn't telling her, but he was definitely hiding something. After she'd been unable to pry it out of him, she had finally thrown her hands up and told him she was going to bed. She hadn't said another word to Dante, though she figured he'd probably still be there in the morning. She was determined to stay calm. Her comment about the hotel had slipped out accidentally, and she knew it had amused him. The bastard, she thought grimly, turning over almost violently to lay flat on her back. She stared at the ceiling for a moment before tossing the duvet aside and tiptoeing to her bedroom door. Listening carefully, she thought they probably had gone to bed. Her apartment was huge, and she had several guest bedrooms. She opened the door silently and stepped into the hallway. The apartment was dark and quiet. She started down toward the hallway toward the kitchen again. If she wasn't sleeping, she might as well finish the ice cream. Shaking her head, she smiled ruefully. If this kept up she'd put on twenty pounds in a week.
A hand grabbed her ankle. She gasped even as she went down, and landed on something hard and warm. As she found herself on the floor, pinned beneath Dante, she struggled. He caught both of her hands in one of his and shoved them over her head. She met his eyes, and his were dark and flashing with…could it be fear that she saw glinting behind the normally amused brown eyes? She kept struggling, even as he bent his head to rest it against her forehead.
He was relieved. He'd camped outside her bedroom for her own protection. Lucky had seemed confident that nothing would happen tonight, but he also hadn't told Lulu everything. They had decided it would be Dante who would have to fill in the blanks, since so much of it had to do with his past. And he just wasn't ready to do that yet.
He'd fallen into a fitful sleep while leaning against the wall, and awoken instantly, terrified he'd allowed one of Balkan's men to slip past him. Taking Lulu down had been instinctive, and now that he realized she was safe, that no one had come to grab her in the night, he reacted with another instinct.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her with the ferocity of the emotions he'd been fighting to keep in check since he'd seen her again. She continued to struggle under him, fighting his grip on her wrists, but he didn't register it. The moment their lips met, he was back in time, and the feeling of her mouth, the movements of her body, spurred him on. Her mouth was a dream, her lips plump and soft. And he plundered it, pressing his body intimately against hers.
That was what stopped her struggle. The haze of fury faded as she felt his desire hard against her. They'd landed on the floor in such a way that he lay in between her parted legs, and she could feel every inch of him straining against her. Her body betrayed her as she responded to him, lifting her hips to feel his erection fully, and her lips parted under his. When his other hand streaked up to palm her breast, she pressed against him there too. It had been so long since she'd felt this. The intense desire surpassed everything. In that moment the urge to mate overtook all sense. He stroked her nipple with his thumb, and it hardened instantly through the silk of her night slip. She let out a strangled moan as heat pooled low in her center. His hand was hard and hot on her, and he was moving against her hips where her slip had ridden up, pushing hard against the tiny matching panties she wore. His jeans were rough against her thighs, his erection pulsing against the center of her pleasure, his hand tugging her top down to feel her bare skin, pulling and twisting her nipple so that she gasped against his mouth.
He was lost in his desire. This was what had haunted his dreams for months, this woman, this body. He groaned when his hand came in contact with her breast. She was full and warm and soft, but for the hardened nipple that he couldn't resist. He slowly twirled his tongue with hers, changing the angle of the kiss, and thrusted his hips against hers in an age-old rhythm. She followed his movements, her slim body lifting against his, one of her legs coming up to wrap around his as she quivered under him. God, he could come like this, he realized.
It was that thought that brought him back. He wrenched his mouth from hers, furious with himself. Staring down at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his tried to catch his breath. She stared up at him, and he realized he was still holding her wrists captive in his hand. He released them quickly, and pulled her slip back up over her breast. He gritted his teeth as he moved off of her, and saw her nipples straining against the thin fabric. The nightdress had ridden up, exposing her flat stomach, the tiny panties she wore. He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. This was not what he'd intended to do. If there was even a chance of winning her back, he had to be smart. And molesting her on the floor at the first opportunity was not smart.
He got her to her feet and they stood for a moment in the dark hallway. "Ah," he started, his voice low and husky. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – ooof," he grunted as her fist plowed into his stomach.
She stormed back to her bedroom and slammed the door. He heard a lock click and he blew out a breath. "That went well," he muttered.
