Dante's Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

control the power of fire, especially as a young man full of testosterone and rage. Now his control was razor sharp. After all, he’d learned the hard way after taking his first life.
    His last life.
    Life was not about an eye for an eye.
    Justice, yes. Healing. Forgiveness. And punishment.
    But not a life for a life. This was not his call, as much as he'd love to be the final power in charge.
    Dante gazed around the bedroom. Its twist of warmth and stark efficiency reflected her personality. The king size, four-poster bed was deep cherry, with matching furniture that held an almost masculine appeal. But the bright yellow walls, candles, and frilly throw pillows gave off a feminine touch uniquely hers. One wall boasted a bookcase that overflowed with treasures. The thick book of sonnets termed her a closet romantic. The impressive pile of business, statistics and marketing texts termed her an intellect.
    Fascinating.
    He’d longed to see her personal space and dig deeper into her mysteries. The office only allowed a glimpse of her hidden soul to peek through, like a scatter of sunrays filtering through a partially closed blind.
    A breathy hitch broke the silence. His gaze took in her bruised, swollen cheek and the upper cut on her brow. More marks on her hip. Black and blue on the delicate swell of her stomach. His gut twisted in nausea but he fought it back with an ironclad control. Nothing physically broken. Now he prayed he’d gotten there in time before sexual penetration. Her jeans had been on, so maybe she had been spared that horror. Of course, he learned early on a damaged soul was just as traumatizing as a shattered body.
    Dante half closed his eyes, fists tight, as the tornado force of emotions shook him to the core. How long had he watched her from the sidelines, greedy to be invited into her inner sanctum? From the moment they’d met, an odd connection forged between them, as if they’d known each other in a previous life. She was so familiar, yet out of reach. She haunted his dreams on a regular basis. But never did he want to be close to her in this way.
    How long had he been alone now? Chase teased him mercilessly about his monk ways and refusal to engage in another relationship. Since his last broken affair with Sara, he’d focused on Inferno Enterprises, and the many women who required his healing touch. Rarely did he experience any need to venture out of his safe haven, though Chase tried desperately to tempt him. There had been no women to stir either his body, mind, or heart.
    Until Selina.
    She always smelled like a delicious ice cream cone—vanilla. His absolute favorite flavor. While he foraged her bathroom looking for first aid supplies he found the body lotion, gel and shampoo; all vanilla scent. Mystery solved. Long black lashes lay against her cheeks as she slept, but Dante knew the mysterious swirl of green and gold rivaled a pirate’s treasure chest, changing color depending on the light and her mood. There was gentleness in Selina's soul that cried out to his, as if finding its perfect match. As if deep inside, she was as lonely as him.
    Dante smothered the humorless laugh. There was no soul mate meant for a modern day superhero with his mission. No Lois Lane. No Batwoman. No Piper. No Jane.
    Just an endless line of broken women who needed healing.
    As she stirred, Dante tamped hard down on the messy emotions mocking his very existence and used all of his strength to concentrate on the task before him.
    She was awake.
     
    ***
     
    Selina sucked in a breath as her heart thundered, and sharp pain battered every muscle in her body. As the scene of the assault suddenly emerged in her vision, she flew up from the bed with a scream lodged in her throat.
    "You're okay. You're safe."
    She turned her head, looking for the voice, blinking her eyes, unable to focus. Where had she heard that voice before? The strange familiarity reached deep within her subconscious and stroked like a velvet glove.