Ch.13

Dante was sitting at his desk reviewing a report he had just finished typing up when his computer signaled that he was getting an instant message. He stopped himself in time from turning to Valerie, who was the sender. "Dante," it read, "Do you have plans for tonight?" "I've got a couple of things I've got to take care of—I'm having some furniture delivered after work that I ordered online, I'm going out to Spoon Island to spend some time with Rocco. What's up?" "I found a new recipe that I wanted to try and I was going to make it tonight and invite you to dinner. We can do it another night, though." "I'm planning to be back from Wyndemere around eight o'clock or so—if you don't mind a late dinner, we can still do it." "You sure? I don't want you to rush your time with Rocco…" "It'll be fine. I'd already intended to be back around that time anyway, so no problem." "Ok. Whenever you get done, head over to the penthouse and we'll have dinner." "Will do." Dante couldn't stop himself from catching Valerie's attention and flashing her a smile. He hadn't been looking forward to facing another lonely dinner for one at the loft—now he wouldn't have to.

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Standing back and admiring his handiwork, Dante nodded his head in satisfaction. His new mattress was in place; the bed was remade with brand new sheets and bedcovers. He had good taste, he thought to himself as he took in the light brown/dark brown combination duvet with black accents. New mattress, new sheets, new start. He was feeling positively cheerful as he picked up his keys and headed out the door. Next stop, Wyndemere.

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After being shown to the nursery, Alfred told Dante, "Miss Lulu is not in the residence at the moment, but is visiting friends in town." Dante figured this was Alfred's way of telling him he wouldn't be running into her during his time with Rocco, which was just as well. He was in a good mood since he was finally getting some time with his son and he didn't want anything spoiling that. "Thanks, Alfred," he told the butler with an understanding nod. "You're welcome, Master Dante." Alfred was walking away when Dante stopped him, asking, "Hey listen, Alfred? Calling me 'Master Dante' doesn't sound right to me. Can't you just call me 'Dante'?" "Now that," replied Alfred with a smile, "doesn't sound proper to me, Sir." He inclined his head and disappeared down the corridor.

"Sir? Wow," Dante said under his breath. He could never get used to this type of lifestyle, he supposed. What was it like to grow up with butlers, maids and nannies? Was Rocco really going to grow up here, or was Lulu intending to get her own place somewhere in town? Something else they would eventually have to discuss. He thought back on his own childhood. Noisy, busy, people—family—always going in and out of each other's houses. He wanted something similar for Rocco. The constant chaos that told you that you were part of something special—a huge, loving family. Norma came in carrying Rocco in the middle of his musings and Dante took him from her arms with a little whoop. "Hey buddy, I sure have missed you! I'll bet you've been wondering what's going on, haven't you? Poor baby." To Norma he enquired, "How has he been, Norma? Is he settling in here all right?"

"He seems to be adjusting wonderfully well. He's a happy child with a sunny disposition, which is serving him well." Norma replied. "What are his days like? What does he do when he's here?" Dante wanted to know.

"He plays with Master Spencer at times, when he is finished with his tutoring. Every now and then, Master Nikolas takes him out to the stables to show him the horses, which he very much enjoys. Most of the time, though, he's content to amuse himself playing with his toys. He really is an easy child to manage. I told Miss Lulu I would be willing to watch him all day instead of sending him to daycare, but she declined."

"Yeah, I figured she would have. Since he doesn't have any brothers or sisters"—and isn't likely to have any now, he thought—"we want him to be with other kids, be socialized and all that. It's supposed to be better for his development later on or something."

"There is some truth to that, and it's her choice to make. And yours, of course. I will leave you to have some private time with him. Please excuse me," she said before exiting the nursery.

Playing together on the floor, they rolled toy cars back and forth on the carpet. They made them fly in the air and crash into one another. Typical boy stuff. They played a game Rocco invented where he threw his stuffed bunny at his father and laughed uproariously when Dante failed to catch it each time. When he sensed Rocco was tiring out, Dante pulled him into his lap and read him 'Goodnight, Moon,' one of his own childhood favorites. He was closing his own eyes and rocking his son gently back and forth when he thought he heard Norma return to the nursery. "I guess I tired him out," Dante whispered and then opened his eyes. Lulu was standing there with a faint smile on her face, a face that quickly turned impassive once she realized Dante was looking at her. "I'll take him—it's his bedtime anyway," she said as she reached down to pick Rocco up. He watched Lulu lay him down in his crib and cover him with a light blanket. They both kissed him good night and then she raised the crib bar and secured it into place. Dante finally turned to her and thanked her, saying, "I appreciate you letting me have all this alone time with him. It meant a lot." Again that faint smile appeared as she replied, "That's what we agreed on, isn't it?" "It was, but still, thanks." "You're welcome, Dante. No matter how I might feel about you, you're still his father." Dante took that as his cue to leave and after he nodded his head to acknowledge what she was saying, he left the nursery and the mansion as he made his way to the launch.

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It was almost fifteen minutes after eight o'clock when Dante finally rang the doorbell of the penthouse. He hoped Valerie hadn't been holding dinner long, but he did remember telling her he might be this late. Either way, he was famished, and he was looking forward to her company. She opened the door with a broad smile on her face. "I hope you're hungry," she greeted him. "Actually, now that I think about it, I haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm starving," he replied.

Valerie led him into the dining area, telling him, "Go ahead and sit down. I'll bring the plates in." She started to walk away when he stopped her with, "Don't, Val. You don't have to wait on me, ok?"

"It's not a big deal, Dante. I want you to get the full effect of this dinner, and I want to see your face when I present it. I think I outdid myself. Let's see if you agree." Having said that, she hurriedly turned and dashed into the kitchen while he sat down at the table. Something smelled great—he wondered what exactly she had prepared.

Carrying two bowls into the room, she announced, "This is Farfalle pasta with smoked salmon and cream cheese," after which she placed the bowls on the table.

"Whoa. I can't believe you went through all this trouble…"

"We're not done yet," she laughed and rushed back into the kitchen. Dante began salivating as he leaned over the bowl and inhaled. He was looking forward to this.

Adopting a snooty tone, she grandly announced, "To accompany the pasta dish, this is a simple, yet tasty, cherry tomato salad. The wine of the evening will be Chablis, a perfect complement to the salmon. For dessert, which will be served later if you desire, we have a light mango sorbet. I hope you enjoy your meal."

They both started laughing as he said, "You do that way too well. I know you said you had a recipe you wanted to try, but you really shouldn't have gone through all this trouble. You must have been in the kitchen all evening."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you, but that's the secret. I'm not the kind of person who likes to be in the kitchen all day, so I choose simple dishes that look like they took a lot of work but actually didn't. Total time spent creating these masterpieces, including prep time—one hour, ten minutes."

"No way. Seriously? And you made it all yourself?"

"Yep. Well, the sorbet is store bought, but the rest was done by my own delicate hands. Eat up," she said while pouring the decanted wine into glasses.

Tasting a forkful of the farfalle, Dante chewed in appreciation. "Wow, this is really good! I knew you could cook, but this is something like Enrico would make at Sonny's restaurant. You've got talent."

"Thank you, kind sir. I won't starve, that's for sure! My mom made sure I could at least feed myself and a family one day, but I never got the hang of being in the kitchen all day, creating dish after dish. I like easy to make meals that look difficult. Then you get loads of praise for minimal work!"

"Well, you definitely get my praise," Dante told her with a grin. "This was worth waiting all day for."

"Thanks for being my guinea pig—I've wanted to try this pasta dish ever since I saw the recipe online. It seemed more ambitious than it actually was, once I started making it."

"I'll be your guinea pig any time you want me to be if you're gonna cook like this! But seriously, Val, thanks. I wasn't looking forward to going to my empty loft and trying to figure out what I was going to eat tonight. Thank you for sharing your meal with me."

"You really are welcome—I'm glad you enjoyed it. You don't want dessert?" "I don't think so—I don't have the room for it. Maybe later." She rose from the table and started clearing the dishes when Dante protested, "Look, stop. I'LL do that. You took the time to make this meal, so let me at least get the dishes. Go sit on the couch and chill." He began collecting the dishes and carrying them to the kitchen where he rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. When he returned to the living area, Val was sitting on the couch swaying slightly to a jazz station that was playing on the radio. The wine glasses were on the coffee table in front of her, and Dante couldn't help flashing back to the last time they drank wine together. He sat down beside her and picked up his wine glass. "You like jazz?" he asked her. "I like all kinds of music. Every mood needs its own sound."

"What sound is this, then?"

"This sound? This sound says 'I'm relaxed, I've eaten well, and I'm enjoying your company.' It says 'Release the pressures of the day and just be'. That's what I hear, anyway. What does it say to you?"

He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch as he thought about it. Finally he said, "It says 'I like being with you.' It says 'Good food, good company, and good wine— the perfect end to a long day'." He sighed and then turned to her. "I'm gonna ask you something, but I don't want you to take it the wrong way."

"Ok, I've been warned. Ask."

"Maybe—never mind."

"Dante! Don't do that. Speak your mind."

"It's just that sitting here with you right now, this is the most peaceful feeling I've had in a while. Would it be weird if I stayed the night? I could sleep on the couch—I've been doing that a lot, anyway. It's just, I don't know; I don't want to go home right now. What I'm feeling right now I want to feel for a little bit longer. But only if that's ok with you."

"First of all, you wouldn't have to sleep on the couch because your father has three bedrooms here. And yeah, it probably will be a little weird knowing you were right across the hall, but you know what? You gave me a haven when I needed one and a place to lay my head. I don't see anything wrong with returning the favor."

"As long as I'm not pressuring you or anything…"

"You haven't figured me out by now, Dante? I rarely do anything I don't want to do."

He yawned hugely and she laughed as she remarked, "I think that's the high sign saying you're ready for bed."

"I'd love to stay up and talk but I'm exhausted. Do you mind? I haven't been sleeping well at all lately. I actually feel like I could crash and get some good sleep for the first time in days."

They stood together and Dante drew her into his arms and then hugged her gently before softly kissing her cheek. "Thanks again for the great dinner, and for the use of one of your rooms. I appreciate it."

"Well, your father's rooms, more like. And once again, you're welcome. I'm just glad you liked everything."

"You're staying here for now. You don't have to keep referring to it as 'Sonny's penthouse', ok? He would want you to feel at home here. Say it. 'You're welcome to stay at my place, Dante'."

She laughed when he gave her a little shake and then responded, "Fine. You're welcome to stay at my place, Dante." She smiled and shook her head at his silliness.

"That's better." He angled his head toward the staircase, and they went up together, each to separate rooms.

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She was in a huge room. Although the furnishings were different than she remembered, she recognized it as her bedroom. The sun was beaming in brightly through the open French doors and a gentle breeze was blowing the scent of the ocean into the room. She stretched luxuriously in the middle of her bed as she writhed on what felt like high-end Egyptian cotton sheets. She smiled. Nothing but the best for this girl, she thought. She looked down at herself—she was wearing a black lace teddy, which she thought was strange. Not that she hadn't had her share of lingerie, but she didn't recognize this one as something she would own. "Well, sleepyhead," said a voice at the foot of the bed, "I thought you'd never wake up. I missed you." She looked down to see Dante crawling up from the end of the bed toward her. He was wearing a pair of white mesh sleep pants and nothing else. Her heart began beating faster as he advanced closer and closer to her. He took her in as he looked down at her, fingering the panty part of the teddy with his thumb and forefinger. "I don't know why you wear these things when you know I'm just going to rip them off you," he said, giving her a predatory look. "I thought you would like it," she replied. "I do," he answered, "But sometimes, they just get in the way." After saying this, he gripped both sides of the teddy and ripped it in half, causing her to gasp aloud. "Now that's what I want to see," he said hungrily as he licked his lips. He began kissing her stomach above her navel, long wet kisses that he dragged over her belly and torso. He gently nipped her under her rib cage and she arched upward involuntarily before he pushed her back down to the bed. "This won't do at all," he said before taking what was left of the teddy from her body and throwing it over his shoulder. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, murmuring, "So many things I want to do to you, but-" he spread her thighs widely apart—"I'm hungry." He lowered his head and passed his tongue over her intimate flesh, humming as he gathered every drop of moisture his actions were creating. She began panting as his tongue probed deeper, deeper. She grabbed his hair and grimaced because she felt the tiny contractions starting within her, and she began crying out, "Dante. Oh, God, Dante. Ooh, yess, Dante. Ahhh, DANTE!"

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Two things happened simultaneously. Valerie bolted upright in the bed gasping for air, and her bedroom door came flying open, a wild haired Dante flipping on the light switch as his eyes moved rapidly throughout the room. He rushed to her side and gathered her in his arms, which was difficult because she was tangled up in the bedsheets. "Hey," he said with concern in his voice, "Everything ok in here? Did you have a nightmare? I heard you calling out…"

She struggled to get out of his arms, which caused him to hold her even more tightly. "I'm ok, Dante. I'm fine. More embarrassed than anything. You can let me go."

"Look, anyone can have a bad dream—there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm just glad I was here-"

"It wasn't a bad dream, ok? Seriously, you can let go-"

"Why are you being so silly? Not a bad dream? But I heard you crying—out—to—me…" A different thought occurred to him, and he began smiling at her. "Exactly what kind of dream was it, then? I know I heard you calling my name."

"If you laugh at me, I'm going to smack you!"

"I'm not laughing at you," he said right before he started chuckling. He finally released her and moved back slightly on the bed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said hurriedly when he noticed that she had balled her fist and was getting ready to strike. "Tell me, though," he went on, "what was happening that made you cry out like that?"

"Oh my God, let it go, would you? Can't you see I'm mortified?"

"You're mortified, but I'm curious." For the first time since he had entered the room, he noticed the low cut red lace bralette she was wearing. He looked down at her breasts and unconsciously, he used the back of his fingers to lightly stroke her cleavage. "You're all tangled up in the sheets—your hair is all over the place… Tell me, was I doing this, do you remember?" He inquired as his fingers moved back and forth.

"Dante, what are you doing?"

"I'm just asking a question, one I'd really like an answer to. What was I doing to you that made you scream my name?"

"I wasn't screaming your name."

"Would you like to be?" He asked teasingly before replacing his fingers with his lips. He dropped little light kisses over the tops of her breasts, increasing the pressure as his lips traveled upwards to her neck, which he lightly nipped with his teeth.

Her breathing quickened and she was able to gasp out, "Dante-" before he took her lips with his own, kissing her voraciously. His tongue tangled with hers and he let out a small groan as his excitement increased. Once again he pulled her into his arms, gathering her close before he lowered her to the bed. His hand slid beneath the lace, cupping her breast, gently rolling and pinching the nipple. Valerie moaned deep in her throat as his hands began roaming her body. He broke off the kiss to suckle and nip at each breast in turn while his hand slid down toward the center of her body, and she finally took a shaky breath.

"Dante," she gasped out, trying to regain his attention. When he didn't seem to hear her, she tried again, "Dante!" Ultimately, she had to grab ahold of his head to get him to listen to her. "DANTE!"

"What? What's wrong, baby? You want me to stop?"

"Do you have condoms?"

"Huh?"

"Condoms. You know. Rubbers, gloves, jimmy hats. Do you have any?"

What she was actually asking him finally registered, and his head dropped to her breasts as he groaned, "This can't be happening!"

"I'll take that as a 'no' so you're right, this can't be happening."

He whined and pouted playfully before sobering up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't even have approached you like that. I get around you and I don't know what happens sometimes. No excuse. I just went for it and got us both all wound up—I didn't even make sure you were ok with it. I'm a jerk. A condom-less jerk."

"No, you're just horny, same as I am. And I didn't stop you because I didn't want you to make love to me, but because we have enough complications going on in our lives without adding an unexpected pregnancy to the mix. We were lucky last time—I'm not trying to tempt fate twice."

"I don't even know what to say."

"Say 'good night, Val'. And say next time, you'll be better prepared."

"So you're actually saying there'll be a next time?"

"I'm not gonna lie; I want you, Dante. I want you, and the feeling's obviously mutual. I'm pretty sure eventually, there's gonna be a 'next time'."

He leaned forward and softly kissed her lips. "Good night, Val." He got up and walked over to the light switch, which he turned off before closing her bedroom door. She threw herself back onto the bed, put one of the pillows over her face, and groaned out her frustrations into it.

Dante got back into bed, shaking his head. What a rookie mistake, he thought with a snicker. He'd come at Val like some virgin getting his first lay instead of like a married man with a child… Whoa. The smile left his face instantly. Papers had been filed, true, but for all intents and purposes, he was still a married man. He shouldn't have come at her like that. He didn't yet have the right to. He wanted her to know that he respected her, and she was more than just some lay. Somehow, he was going to have to do better at showing her how special she was becoming to him...

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