Stolen: Dante’s Vow by Natasha Knight
Mara
Drake Gray is waiting downstairs when Dante and I are shown into an informal living room half an hour later. This one is much smaller than the other, with a fire raging in the stone fireplace. He has changed into a beige sweater and dark slacks, crouching before the fire, arranging a new log onto the already large stack.
On our way down I’d peeked inside some of the rooms. It’s strange, the house is so impersonal that it’s almost like a hotel. Like anyone could move in and call it theirs. It’s a little lonely, actually. But this room looks lived in. Personal. I’m glad to see it because when I look at him, he looks as lonely as the house.
He straightens, replaces the brass poker and sips his drink as he turns to us. I’m wearing a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie with the softest lining I’ve ever felt, along with a pair of combat boots. The closet and dresser were full of new clothes with their tags still on, all in my size. Did he think I’d just move in? This is all so weird.
Dante changed into a charcoal sweater and slacks the housekeeper sent up. We threw our other things away.
“Better?” Drake Gray asks.
I nod and study him, see the crow’s feet crinkle his temples, note the shade of his eyes so much like mine. His hair is a darker shade of graying blond, but I recognize the dimple in his chin. I see it every time I look in the mirror.
“Drink?” he asks.
Dante nods and he turns to me. “You’d better take one too,” he says.
I don’t argue and a moment later we’re settled on the couch in front of the fire. Dante sips his whiskey, while I just hold my glass and study Drake Gray who is seated on the wing chair. He’s studying me too.
“I don’t understand this,” I say. “My mother died when I was very young. I don’t have a father. If I did, I’d know about it.”
He looks into his glass, nods and sips before he turns to me. I take a sip of mine and have to work through the burn, but it feels good once it’s down.
“I didn’t know about the pregnancy. We had a brief affair. I was married at the time, Mara.”
Ah.
“I am ashamed of how I handled things and I don’t want to make excuses, but I was young and ambitious and quite frankly stupid.”
“Did she try to contact you?”
He nods gravely. “She did. And I ignored the calls until she stopped calling. But I never stopped thinking of her.”
“That didn’t do her any good, did it?”
Dante squeezes my hand.
“No, it didn’t. And I’m sorry. Very sorry.”
“Where’s your wife?”
He drinks a big swallow of his drink. “We separated a few years ago.”
“Do you have kids?” Do I have brothers or sisters?
“No, we never had children. Her pregnancies were unsuccessful.”
“Oh.” At that his face darkens and I see a sadness in his eyes. That loneliness in his posture. “I’m sorry.”
He nods, drinks, then gets up to refresh his empty glass. My glass is still full, and Dante declines so after refilling his drink he sits back down.
“What’s your connection with Jericho St. James?” Dante asks.
Drake Gray looks at him. “Jericho St. James?” He shakes his head. “I know the name but can’t say I know the man.”
“So David put you in touch with Felix Pérez to find Mara?”
He nods.
“What did he want in return?”
“Connections. I’m part of a powerful organization. A founding family member.”
“IVI.”
He nods. “David wanted in.” His lip curls in disgust. “And he planned to sell me my own daughter to get what he wanted. When I contacted Pérez and learned about the Russian, well, things weren’t easy to say the least. The plan was to kidnap you from the Russian, but that’s no easy task against a man like Petrov. Then Pérez had an idea to put the truth about who you are out there. I didn’t know he’d do that. I wouldn’t have agreed to it knowing it would put you at risk, Mara. I hope you weren’t hurt because of that.”
I don’t answer but drink a sip of my whiskey instead, liking the warmth, the lightness of my limbs.
“It’s late,” Dante says, putting his empty glass down and getting to his feet.
“You can’t take her back to the island.”
“I don’t think you get a say in what Mara wants or needs.”
“I’m her father.”
“I’d like to see a DNA test before I accept that.”
“You can have it.” Drake turns to me. “Anything you want or need.”
“How about if I get a say in what I want or need,” I say, standing.
Both men turn to me.
“I’d like proof,” I say to Drake although looking at his face, I know it’s true. I see it more and more. And I feel it.
He nods. “Tomorrow. We can get a test.”
Dante looks at me. “If it’s what you want, I’ll take you.”
Drake gets up. “Why don’t you two spend the night here? Your man too. You can call anyone you need to. We can talk some more in the morning. Go together to the lab.”
“I don’t think so,” Dante says. He takes my hand and walks toward the door.
“Please,” Drake says, eyes on me. “I’ve only just met my daughter.”
Dante turns to him and is about to tell him no again, but he continues.
“You’re free to go whenever you want,” Drake adds. “I would just like a chance to know you after all this time,” he says to me.
I see the emotion in his eyes. And in a way, I feel his loneliness. I turn to Dante and nod. “One night,” I say quietly. “I’d like to stay. It’s late anyway.”
Dante isn’t convinced but after a long moment, he nods. I think about how this day started and how it’s ended. How destiny has sought us out. All of us. And brought us together. I won’t be so quick to trust this stranger yet. Even when it is proven who he is. But I want to. God, how I want to.