Deceptive Hearts

14

The day began like any other, but as the afternoon sun climbed higher, Dante had called her with an unusual request.

"Meet me at the docks," Dante’s voice had sounded smoother than usual, the hint of something mysterious lingering in his words. "I’ve got something special planned."

Alora had hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of her, and before she knew it, she was at the waterfront. The breeze danced through the air, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean. She spotted Dante standing on the deck of a sleek, white yacht, his silhouette crisp against the backdrop of the sparkling blue sea.

Her breath caught as she approached. He looked effortlessly handsome, dressed casually but still exuding the same commanding presence that always made her heart race. His dark eyes were trained on her as she made her way toward him, a slow, knowing smile playing on his lips.

"You're right on time," Dante remarked, his voice smooth as he extended his hand to help her aboard. Alora hesitated for just a second before placing her hand in his. His grip was firm, yet gentle, sending a small shiver up her spine.

As soon as her feet hit the deck, she glanced around in awe. The yacht was sleek and luxurious, the kind of place where you could easily forget the world outside. The white cushions glistened under the sunlight, and the polished wood gleamed beneath their feet. A bottle of champagne was chilling on the small table near the bow, with two glasses waiting to be filled.

Dante stepped closer, his hand still resting lightly on hers. "I thought we could use a little break," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "Just the two of us. Away from all the noise."

Alora smiled softly, her nerves tightening at the thought of being alone with him for the next few hours. "It’s beautiful," she admitted, glancing out at the open water.

"Not as beautiful as you," he said smoothly, his eyes locking onto hers. He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, lingering a little too long. "Shall we?"

Without waiting for an answer, Dante guided her to one of the plush seats, pouring two glasses of champagne as the yacht slowly pulled away from the dock. The city’s skyline grew smaller in the distance, leaving them surrounded by nothing but the endless stretch of the ocean and the soft sound of waves.

The gentle lapping of waves against the hull of the yacht set a peaceful, rhythmic background to the afternoon as the sun hung low on the horizon, casting a golden sheen across the water. Alora stood at the edge of the yacht, hands resting lightly on the polished wooden railing, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

The cool breeze teased her hair, tousling it around her face, as her gaze followed the gentle ripples far beyond the boat. The tranquil setting contrasted with the turmoil in her mind.

Dante stood behind her, silently observing the way her fingers gripped the railing, the faint tension in her posture betraying her inner conflict. He’d been watching her carefully, his sharp eyes catching every small flicker of uncertainty she tried to hide. He wasn’t a man to be fooled easily, but he was far too taken by her to push too hard, at least for now.

"Are you cold?" Dante’s deep, soothing voice cut through the quiet, startling her slightly. Without waiting for an answer, he draped his jacket over her shoulders, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary as they brushed her arms.

Alora turned, looking up at him, her lips curling into a polite smile. "No, I'm fine. Just… lost in thought."

"Thinking about running away?" Dante teased, his tone light, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. His eyes, though warm, held a possessive gleam. He moved closer, his presence enveloping her in a way that made it hard for her to focus on anything else.Alora forced a laugh. "Not quite. Just… taking it all in."