Dante’s Girl (The Paradise Diaries #1)(48)
Author: Courtney Cole

And then he moves slightly and winces.

And that reminds me that this is definitely not a dream.  And he is still injured.  We shouldn’t be doing this.

I tell him that softly.

“Dante, you need to rest.  You’re still injured.  The doctor said you have to rest.”

He looks at me, his eyes all soft and liquid and my heart melts.  Because he seems so vulnerable and his fragility in this moment makes him seem even more beautiful than usual. Even more beautiful than the tanned and handsome and confident Dante that he normally is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to me.  And I startle.

“Sorry for that?” I ask in surprise.

“For taking advantage of you.  You’re trying to help me and I’m taking advantage of that.”

He is so serious and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re the cripple,” I point out.  “Aren’t I the one taking advantage of you?”

He laughs quietly and I laugh, because it’s sort of true.

But then again, it’s not. 

Because he wants me just as much as I want him.

And he tells me so.

And his voice is husky and sexy and I almost melt into a puddle.

“I’ll be rested up soon,” he tells me.  And his voice contains a promise.

A soft and silky promise.

The fire shoots up through my belly again and I nod.

“I know,” I answer.  I lean down and kiss his forehead and pull the coverlet up over him.  “Sleep tight,” I tell him.

“Dream about me,” he answers as he closes his eyes.

Always, I think.

“Maybe,” I say.

He smiles with his eyes still closed and I decide that I could stand and watch him sleep forever. Then I decide that that’s creepy and stalkerish.  So I quietly walk back to my room.

And I do dream about Dante.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Holy cow.  Would you look at him?” Mia breathes.

Our noses are practically pressed against the window of the shop and we’re staring into the olive groves.  There are tons of sweaty men out there but we’re focused on only one.

And sadly, it’s not Dante.

It’s a guy named Vincent.  A summer field hand who Mia has decided that she cannot live without.

As I watch him sweating in the sun with his biceps bulging in the heat as he works, I have to hand it to Mia. If you’re going to decide that you can’t live without someone, it should definitely be someone as sexy as Vincent.

“What do you know about him?” I ask absently.  Because honestly, with looks like his, it doesn’t matter.  He’s tall, sandy-haired, brown-eyed, muscular and has a smile that girls would kill for.  He also fills out his jeans like nobody’s business.

“Not much,” Mia admits.  “His parents live out in the valley, apparently. They’re farmers.  And so he’s an experienced field hand.  As you can see,” and she motions toward him.  “He makes an excellent and amazing field hand.”

I giggle and so does she.

Coincidentally, he looks in our direction and grins.

And we both sigh.

He’s completely sexy.

And Mia has a date with him tonight.

“I wonder how experienced his hands actually are?” Mia wonders aloud.

I know that she’s not talking about field-work now and we examine him again.  The muscles in his back ripple as he twists on a cherry-picker to prune the trees back.  His muscles flex and his hands are deft.  We both sigh again.

“Experienced, I’m betting,” I finally answer.

“That’s alright,” Mia replies confidently.  “It’s just as well.  I’m not worried.  I can handle anything.”

“So says the girl who’s never had a boyfriend,” I say.

She rolls her eyes and then the next group of tourists come in.  We get busy and then I’m even busier watching for Dante, so we stop talking about it.  But I know Mia is excited.

And I’m excited too, but for a different reason. Dante was finally released by the doctor to come back to work today, just two short weeks after his accident.  His ribs have healed up and his bruises are almost gone.  He feels great and I have to say, he looks great too.

Right this moment, he’s in the fields too, working with Darius.  I find myself hoping that he doesn’t over-do it trying to prove himself.  I watch as he bends over an olive branch and Darius shows him something on the bark.  I have no idea what they’re doing or what they’re looking at, but Dante looks interested in it.

I hand out a few more cheese samples and look back for Dante.

He’s not there.

I sigh and turn back around.

“Looking for someone?”

He’s so cocky sometimes. I love that.  I smile and fight the urge to drop the tray of samples and launch myself into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist.  But I don’t want to re-crack his poor ribs.  So instead, I smile.

“No one in particular.  You here to get a sample?”

“Yep.”

I start to hand him a cracker, but he reaches around the tray and wraps his sweaty arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him for a kiss.

He tastes salty but I don’t care.

This is very uncharacteristic for him, to show this much of himself in public.

So I enjoy it while I can.

I enjoy it a lot while I can.

And I don’t care that tourists are watching us and smiling.

He finally pulls away and I’m breathless.

“Oh.  That kind of sample.  I don’t give those out to just anyone.  So you’re lucky today.”

He smiles and I decide that I’m the lucky one.

“I came here for a purpose,” he announces.  “Well, two purposes.  One, to get a bottle of water.  And two, to ask you out. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?  Alone?”

Alone?  What a concept.

We haven’t been alone since Dante left the hospital.  Marionette has practically been Dante’s shadow over the past couple of weeks, fretting about him like a little mother hen.  Dimitri has even been here a few times.  He felt so horrible about not being able to bring Dante home from the hospital himself.  We’ve had dinner in the main dining room with a group of people every night.

A real-honest-to-god date would be amazing. I nod.

“I’d love that.  Where are we going?”