HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD

17. SOMETHING RECKLESS

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SOMETHING RECKLESS

I’ve tried to get Mark off my mind. God knows I’ve tried. But the more the drinks keep coming, the tighter the ache grips my chest like a fist refusing to let go. The pain doesn’t dull. Instead, it sharpens, wrapping around my throat like a noose. I hate that he broke my heart. I hate that he ruined my ego. I hate that he made me feel like I wasn’t enough. That I’m still sitting here thinking about him while he’s probably fast asleep in our bed like none of this even matters.

I stare down at the glass in my hand, watching the amber liquid swirl like it holds the answers. Maybe if I drink fast enough, hard enough, I’ll forget everything; him, the lies or how he couldn’t believe me until the detectives showed him proof.

I’d left my phone back at the hotel, powered off and buried under a pile of throw pillows for this exact reason. I didn’t trust myself to bring it out tonight. Not when I knew the alcohol would make my loneliness louder. Not when I feared I might call him just to hear him lie to me again.

Eric’s at the bar counter, casually flirting with the manager, his hands expressive, his smile devilish. He’s always had a way of pulling attention without trying. Diane’s somewhere on the dance floor, swaying with a tall, broad-shouldered man whose eyes haven’t left her for the past hour. I practically shoved her in that direction and told her to have fun. Someone should. She deserves it. Her love life hasn’t been exactly rainbows either.

“Someone’s having a shitty night,” a deep, unfamiliar voice cuts through my haze.

I glance up, and I swear, just for a second, I forget how to breathe. The man standing beside me looks like he walked off the cover of a magazine meant to be hidden under your mattress. He’s tall, lean but muscled, dressed in a dark shirt that fits too well, sleeves rolled up to reveal veined forearms and a silver watch. His skin is smooth, warm-toned, and his dark brown eyes meet mine with quiet confidence and a hint of mischief. I narrow my gaze and lean in slightly, voice cold and clear.

“I’m going to say this as politely as I can: f**k off.”

He chuckles, completely unfazed, and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. I respect a woman’s wishes. If you don’t want me here, I’ll walk away, no questions asked.”

His voice is calm, smooth, unbothered. Something about it feels…genuine. And infuriatingly charming.

I arch an eyebrow. “Is this your thing? Hitting on women just trying to enjoy a drink alone?”

He grins, slightly crooked. “Not exactly. Usually I keep to myself. But you looked like you could use a distraction. A little company. And for the record,” he gestures toward the room, “I wasn’t trying to take you home. Just figured I’d keep you company while your friends are busy living their best lives.”

I glance toward the dance floor. Diane’s laughing, her curls bouncing as she twirls, and when she spots me looking, she flashes me a giant grin and a big, unmistakable thumbs-up. Subtle. Real subtle, Diane.

I can’t help but laugh under my breath. I shake my head, then glance back at the stranger who’s still waiting patiently, not pushing but just standing there like a devil I might just say yes to.

“Alright, what’s one drink? I doubt my life could get any shittier than this,” I say slowly, meeting his gaze.

His lips twitch into a smile. “One drink. Scout’s honor.”

I slide the stool beside me out with my heel.

“Then sit, mystery man.”

He does.

“Name’s Dante,” he says, holding out a hand.

I hesitate for half a second before slipping mine into his. Damn! Is that heat crawling up on me? It’s like somebody poured gasoline inside me, then lit a match.

“Nice to meet you, Dante. Let’s see if you’re as charming as you think you are.”

He grins. “Challenge accepted.”

There is something dangerously sexy about him that I can’t quite put my finger on it. Its disarming, really. Maybe all my life I’d only ever seen Mark but now, with everything going on, I’m beginning to see just how f*****g good other people look. By the time our new drinks arrive, I’ve stared at the man sitting opposite me long enough.

He leans forward ever so slightly, the corner of his lips carved into the tiniest smirk, his veined right hand wrapped around his glass, “Like what you see?”

I take a hard look at him, registering every single detail of his out-of-this world face, down to the way his dark hair sits casually at almost shoulder length, “ Maybe I’m just wondering what exactly is your deal. You didn’t just approach me, did you?” I drag my next words deliberately, “ You marked me. How else would you know who exactly my friends were unless you’ve been watching me?”

He releases a chuckle; a deep-voiced one that could have you begging the heavens for just one chance to bury those f*****g lips between your thighs and hear him groan in absolute pleasure while he eats you out. f*****g hell! Am I really that drunk that I can’t stop my mind building up the dirtiest scenarios in my head? But you know what? Screw it. I want to be reckless too. I want someone to look at me the way Dante is staring at me right now like I’m a f*****g prized possession.

“Alright. You got me. How honest do you want me to be on a scale of one to ten?” he asks instead.

I taste his edges, “Eleven,”

He laughs again; just a light chuckle in that baritone voice that somehow is getting my panties in a twist, “God, I like you,”

“So?”

“Fine. Yeah, I noticed you from the moment you walked in and those legs- f**k those legs- I imagined them wrapped around my waist,” His voice drops a bit lower as he leans closer, “I wanted to f**k you until you forget whatever douchebag fumbled you. I wanted to remind you that you are f*****g goddess,”

Breath catches in my throat for two reasons. First, the way he has a way with words. It’s like he is that s****l fantasy in your head but in an actual man. Two; did he recognize me despite the wig? Well, I’m too drunk to care.

“A man fumbled me?”

“Oh, please. I’ve seen that look one too many times and by the heavens, I cannot begin to fathom how any sane man would want to lose out on you?”

Its an irrational thought in my head but suddenly I lean closer enough he can have a good look at the slight cleavage of my double Ds. I could have sworn he sucked in breath when his eyes landed right where I wanted them to be, “Well, how about…you make me forget this douchebag then?”

The smirk returns, “ Well, how about we get out right now? My hotel is just a few blocks away,”

“Good,” I stopped, frowning, “ You are not some sadistic serial killer, are you?”

“If I were a serial killer, would I tell you?”

“Good point. I’m going to let my friends know,” I say, rising up from my seat.