Chapter 415: Are you sure my father won’t locate this place?

POV: DANTE

Dante was sitting on the bed with his laptop, reviewing operational details and surveillance reports.

The safe house was secure. The perimeter was covered. Everything was in place. But he was monitoring the situation constantly, watching for signs that Lorenzo’s people had located them.

He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open.

He didn’t know Isabella was there until he looked up from the screen.

And then he saw her.

Isabella emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, wrapped around her body from her breasts to her mid-thigh. Her dark hair was wet, clinging to her shoulders and back. Her skin was flushed from the warm shower. And she was drying her hair with another towel, her movements casual and unselfconscious, completely unaware of the effect she was having on him.

Dante’s body responded immediately.

His dick hardened, not gradually but suddenly, completely, intensely. Just from seeing her like this. Vulnerable. Intimate. Wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her wet hair. Her bare shoulders. The knowledge of what was under that towel.

He closed the laptop.

He got up from the bed and walked toward her.

Isabella turned when she heard him approaching, and there was something almost shy in her expression, despite everything, despite the fact that they’d been intimate before, despite the fact that she’d chosen him over her entire family.

"Hi," she said softly.

He didn’t respond with words.

Instead, he reached out and gently took the towel from her hands, the one she was using to dry her hair. She let him take it without resistance.

He led her to the bed and guided her to sit down.

Then he began to dry her hair.

His hands moved through her wet hair with the towel...slow, deliberate strokes that were about care more than efficiency.

Isabella closed her eyes and melted into the sensation.

There was something intensely intimate about this moment. Not sexual, but deeply tender. His hands moving through her hair. The warmth of the towel. The care he was taking with her.

She’d never experienced this before. Her father had never done something like this. Dante....her family’s enemy, her chosen lover,was doing something so tender that it made her want to cry.

His fingers moved through her hair, squeezing gently to remove moisture. His palms cradled her head. His thumbs stroked against her temples. Everything about his touch was gentle and present and completely focused on her.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, and there was something almost reverent in his voice.

Isabella didn’t respond. She just sat there, eyes closed, completely surrendered to the sensation of his care.

When most of her hair was dry, he dropped the towel and picked up the hair dryer from the bedside table.

He turned it on and began to blow-dry her hair.

His hand moved through her hair with the dryer....his fingers working through the strands, massaging her scalp as the warm air dried her hair.

She was completely relaxed now. Melted into him. Her body language was open and trusting. She’d put herself completely in his hands, and he was handling that trust like it was the most precious thing anyone had ever given him.

The sound of the dryer filled the room....a constant, soothing white noise that seemed to isolate them from everything outside this space.

Isabella’s head tilted slightly, giving him better access, completely surrendered to the moment.

Dante moved the dryer over her hair methodically...top, sides, back, front, making sure every section was completely dry. His free hand moved through her hair constantly, fingers working to ensure even drying, but also just because he wanted to touch her.

When her hair was completely dry and silky, he turned off the dryer and set it aside.

For a moment, they were just there....her sitting on the bed with her back to him, him standing behind her, both of them in the quiet of the moment.

Then he bent down and kissed her neck.

His lips made contact with the soft skin of her neck, just below her ear.

Isabella gasped, her body going rigid for just a moment before relaxing completely into the sensation.

He kissed her slowly, His lips moved against her neck, his teeth grazing gently, his tongue tasting her skin.

She melted into him.

Her head fell back, her body leaning back against his legs, completely surrendered to the sensation of his mouth on her neck.

"God, I love you," he whispered against her skin, and she heard the truth in those words...heard the absolute sincerity beneath them.

"I love you too," she responded, her voice breathy.

He continued kissing her neck...slow, deliberate kisses that made her entire body respond. Her hands reached up and gripped his thighs. Her breathing became ragged. The towel around her body suddenly felt like a constraint rather than a comfort.

But before things could escalate further, Isabella pulled back slightly.

"Dante," she said, and there was a note of concern in her voice that hadn’t been there moments before. "Are you sure my father won’t locate this place?"

The question hung in the air between them.

"He wouldn’t let me go easily like that," Isabella continued. "He will look for me."

Dante raised his head from her neck and kissed the top of her head.

He settled on the bed beside her, sitting so he could look at her directly.

Isabella turned to face him, the towel still wrapped around her, her hair now dry and silky, her expression vulnerable and concerned.

"I’m not scared of your father locating where we are," Dante said simply.

Isabella’s eyes widened slightly.

"I’m not scared of him coming," Dante continued. "I’m not scared of him finding out that you’re with me. And knowing how smart your father is, he should know by now that I took you."

"Then why are you not scared?" Isabella asked. "He’s going to look for this place very soon, Dante. He’s going to search Rome. He’s going to use every resource he has."

"Because we will be gone before he gets here," Dante said with absolute certainty.