Humor hooked his mouth into a high curl. “I think I can handle that.”

I extended my hand to him for the first time and watched as he took it in a firm, cold grip. When we shook, I had that feeling in my gut I got sometimes when I met someone I felt a kindred connection with. It didn’t surprise me I felt that with Tiernan, it seemed we were cut from the same black sheep’s wool.

“I did get you a present,” he reminded me as he pulled away to reach into the breast pocket of his bespoke suit.

I laughed when he pulled out a bar of Bonnat chocolate wrapped with a bow. When I took it, I saw two tickets to see the best concert pianist of our time, Louis Lortie, tucked beneath the ribbon.

“You did your research, I’ll give you that,” I told him.

His eyes sparkled in the low light, but he didn’t smile. Instead, his gaze cut to a place over my shoulder and he jerked his chin up in acknowledgment.

“Happy Christmas, Elena Lombardi, I look forward to working with you.”

“Happy holidays, Mr. Morelli.”

“Tiernan,” he pressed with a sour expression. “I prefer Tiernan.”

I watched him walk away, but didn’t turn even when a second pair of footsteps echoed under the patio roof.

I’d know Dante was close even if I was blind, deaf, and dumb. I could feel the energy in the air shift as if to make way for his presence.

When he stepped up behind me and pressed his torso to my back, all I felt was warmth and security. I tipped my head back and up, tucking my nose under his chin to catch the scent of him, lemons and musk.

“Tiernan clearly doesn’t know it is bad manners to give a married woman a Christmas gift,” he groused, but there was humor in his tone as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Anyone with working eyes can see there’s no man for me but you,” I replied.

It still shocked me that I could make declarations like that when once I’d been so guarded with my heart that I sometimes forgot to feel at all.

A low growl worked through his chest, vibrating into me. “You know I can’t resist my fighter when she’s sweet.”

“We can go home now,” I suggested, the words breathy because his lips were at my ear, teeth nipping the lobe.

One of his big hands splayed across my belly, fingertips almost at my clit.

“Can’t wait,” he mumbled against my neck as he bent to lick at my pounding pulse. “Want to take you right here. Seeing you so perfect brings out the heathen in me. I want to stain you with bruises and mark you with my cum so when we walk back through the party all those stronzi will know you are mine.”