His Paradise Wife (13 page)

“
I’m ready to fully
participate now. We have four days left and I promise to make the
most of every moment.”

“
Okay,” he
responded.

“
You don’t seem too excited
about that.”

“
I’m not.”

“
Why? I thought that’s what
you wanted.”

“
It is, but if I knew my
pushing you to participate would have you ending up in a hospital
bed, I would’ve never done it.”

“
But I’m fine,
Dante.”

“
I’m relieved that you are,
but—”

“
Just let that be enough for
right now,” she said.

Dante nodded. “Okay.”

Chapter 23

In the morning, Emily was discharged. Dante
took extra special care to make sure she was comfortable at the
suite. He removed her suitcase from the bed and laid her there.

“
Dante, I’m fine. You don’t
have to cater to me.”

“
I want to take care of you,
Emily. Now you stay here and rest. I’m going to go get us some
breakfast.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

When Dante left the suite, Emily called
Sherita just to check in and to see how things were going at the
shop. Afterwards, she dialed Melanie.

“
Are things getting better?”
Melanie inquired.

“
If you call passing out and
having to go to the hospital
better
, then yes.”

“
You passed out?”

“
Yes.”

“
How did that
happen?”

“
Well, Dante was telling me
how I wasn’t participating...said something about me being
miserable and lonely, and I don’t want
miserable
and
lonely
to be words that describes me.
So I sucked it up and went to group therapy to share my story about
Melvin and I fainted.”

“
Oh...my...gosh!”

“
Before I crashed and
burned, I remember crying buckets and feeling lightheaded. Then I’m
waking up with people huddled around me.”

“
Jeez, Em. Maybe you should
just come home.”

“
Nope. I won’t. I may have
fell and hit my head, Melanie, but I think I had a
breakthrough.”

“
How so?”

“
Sharing my story with the
group has opened my eyes. Dante was right. I
do
feel better after talking openly
about Melvin. It feels like a weight has been lifted from my
shoulders.”

“
That’s good.”

“
Yes, and with four more
days here in paradise, I’m going to enjoy myself.”

“
Well, good for you. You
deserve to enjoy yourself. And maybe you can enjoy a little of
Dante, too,” Melanie quipped. “Oh, no, wait...my bad. I mean
a
lot
of
Dante.”

Emily giggled. “Hey, Dante is coming back
with breakfast in a few minutes, so I’m going to go.”

“
Okay, girl.
Bye.”

As she was placing her cell phone on the
nightstand, she heard the latch at the door. Dante came walking
into the bedroom with a breakfast tray, setting it on the bed.

“
Hope I got
enough.”

Emily glanced at the tray. He’d gotten
plenty of everything...eggs, hash browns, bacon, toast and slices
of fresh cut oranges. She glanced up at him, watching his sexy lips
curve into a smile. She smiled too. “Yeah. You got plenty.”

“
Good.”

Emily took a fork full of eggs to her mouth
and noticed Dante wasn’t eating. Instead, he was looking at her and
she could tell he had a lot on his mind. She continued eating, and
he took his gaze from her to her suitcase that he’d placed by the
door.

Dante rubbed his head.

Emily hadn’t cared for his
company much before, but having found out that he’d been right
about her healing process, she began to notice how, whenever he was
frustrated or worried about something, he would rub his head or
look away from her. When he was nervous, and men
do
get nervous, he would
lock his hands together and rest his chin on them, or if he was
standing, he’d slide his hands in his pockets. And when he was
angry, his eyes and face would darken and everything about him
exuded irritation and frustration. He was the type that couldn’t
mask an angry demeanor.

At the moment, he looked to be worried.
Emily was almost certain that he was. The man had the appetite of a
lion and he hadn’t taken a bite of anything on his plate.

“
Dante.”

“
Yes?” he said, taking his
eyes off of her suitcase and giving her his full
attention.

“
Why aren’t you
eating?”

“
Lost my appetite when I
thought something bad had happened to you.”

“
How many times do I have to
tell you that I’m fine?”

“
I know, baby. It’s just
that, walking those hospital hallways brought back so many bad
memories of taking Anita to chemotherapy, watching her get worse
and worse...hearing the noises from those machines...”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
No,
I’m
sorry. If I hadn’t yelled at you,
you probably would not have been in there in the first
place.”

Emily didn’t respond to him. Instead, she
ate more, then stood up and said, “Be right back,” rushing off to
the bathroom.

After a few minutes, she came out and
noticed Dante hadn’t moved. He was still sitting on the bed, his
head hanging low, like he was sad or in deep thought.

“
So are you going to leave?”
he asked without even looking up at her.

She walked closer to him and when he knew
she was getting closer, he looked up, watching her stand between
his legs. “Do you want me to leave, Dante?” she asked, touching the
sides of his face.

He frowned slightly, confused by her touch.
She’d never touched him intentionally before. As a matter of fact,
no woman had ever touched him like this since Anita. Emily’s touch
was tender, something he hadn’t expected – something he didn’t feel
he deserved because he blamed himself for the bandage on her temple
– for her having to go to the hospital.

Meeting her gaze, he responded truthfully,
“No, I don’t want you to go, but all I ever seem to do is hurt you,
Emily, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“
Then don’t hurt me,” she
said softly, pressing her lips against his forehead.

Dante closed his eyes when he felt her warm
lips against his skin, feeling desire rattle his core.

“
I have a private therapy
session with Dr. Stacey at ten,” Emily said. “She told me I could
bring you for support if I needed to, and I would like for you to
come with me if that’s okay.”

“
Are you sure?”

“
Yes, Dante. I’m
sure.”

* * *

After the two-hour long therapy session, the
two went to lunch together and when Dante asked her what they would
do with the hours they had to burn before dinner, Emily had a
suggestion.

She took him by the hand and led him to the
docks.

“
This is what you want to
do?” Dante asked, surprised. “You want to get on a rowboat, because
the last time you were so angry with me, I thought you were going
to jump in the water and never resurface.”

Emily laughed. “The last time was rough, I
know, but I want to go again. I owe you.”

Dante nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Dante checked out a boat, helped her onboard
then stepped on himself. They both used the oars to row along
quietly for a while, enjoying the weather.

“
It’s a beautiful day,” she
told him.

“
Yes it is,” he responded,
staring at her from head to toe. She was beautiful, wearing a white
sundress with her curly strands blowing in the wind, her eyes
hiding behind a pair of dark shades.

When they were further along, she said, “I
was wrong about you.”

“
How so?”

She shrugged. “I thought you were arrogant
and egotistical.”

He smirked. “That’s what most people think
about me. It comes with the success, especially for a man.”

Emily nodded in agreement. “And I didn’t
think you were the least bit interested in me other than to have me
in your bed once or twice.”

“
Has your opinion
changed?”

She smiled and nodded, feeling the wind
against her face, staring at the strong man sitting in front of
her, using his upper body to row. He wore a gray T-shirt today and
a pair of jean shorts. With every stroke of the oar, she could see
his arm muscles bulge.

“
Last night, when I was
sitting on that hospital bed and I looked up and saw the panic in
your eyes, my opinion changed.”

“
Changed how?” he asked and
stopped rowing.

“
I knew you actually cared
about me. I could see the worry in your eyes.”

“
I
was
worried, and you’re right. I do
care about you, Emily. Very much.”

Emily smiled, her hair blowing in her
face.

Dante raked it away and then, in a bold
move, he pulled her sunglasses from her eyes.

She squinted because of the brightness of
the sun and said, “You take my sunglasses off, but you leave yours
on? That’s not fair...”

He pulled his shades from his face and said,
“Is that better?”

“
Yes, that’s a lot better.
Now I can see those gorgeous, hazel eyes of yours.”

He leaned in close to her and when she
hadn’t resisted, he planted a soft kiss against her lips, tasting
her in a more provocative way than he had in the hospital last
night. When he pulled away from her, he noticed her eyes were still
closed, the wind still blowing her hair in front of her face.

Then she opened her eyes, looked at him and
smiled.

“
What?” he asked.

“
You, literally, almost took
my breath away.”

“
You have no idea what I’m
capable of doing to you, Emily,” he said with arrogant
eyes.

Emily smiled. She knew exactly what he meant
and she knew he had the tools, the passion, and desire to do
whatever he claimed he would. “Can I have my sunglasses back
now?”

“
Sure,” he said, handing
them to her.

She slid them back on his face, and he
followed suit, sliding his sunglasses on as well.

“
So how do you keep it all
together? You have your multi-million dollar business, your
personal life, then dealing with loss...how do you not choke under
the pressure of it all.”

“
I give.”

“
Huh?”

“
I give. A great man once
said, there’s more happiness in giving than there is in
receiving.”

She nodded.

“
So I give...I donate money
to shelters, food banks, schools...I even formed a foundation that
offers grants to help people who are suffering a loss to be able to
afford therapy. Knowing that I’m helping others gives me
satisfaction.”

“
That’s very admirable. A
lot of wealthy people don’t give money to charities or anyone else
for that matter. People tend to be greedy and stingy these
days.”

“
You’re right.”

“
I had a discussion with my
friend Melanie not too long ago about how these famous people get
on TV and ask the public for donations to help feed children who
are living in poverty, but they got
way
more money than the general
population...seems weird for a millionaire or billionaire to
practically beg for money to help the poor when they are filthy
rich and can help in ways that someone like myself can’t. I don’t
get that.”

The smile on his face had her curious.

“
What?” she
asked.

“
I can’t believe we’re
actually having a conversation and you’re not trying to kill
me.”

Emily looked amused. “You know what I mean
though, right? About the rich...”

“
Yes. I get it, but I’ll
tell you why that’s the case. See, these non-profit organizations
seek famous people to do commercials because they know people can
relate to this person. They’re stars. Household names. People will
be more apt to donate money if someone they feel like they
know
are the ones
asking.”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. I suppose that could be
the case. My point is, they can skip the commercial altogether and
give the organization a few million of their own money and call it
a day.”

“
That’s an interesting
perspective.”

Emily’s cell phone rang, interrupting their
flow.

“
You brought your phone?”
Dante asked with a smirk.

“
Yes...just in case you
tried something,” she said, suppressing a smile while taking her
phone from her small purse. “It’s my friend, Sherita. She’s running
the shop for me while I’m here.”

“
You need to take
it?”

“
No. I’ll call her back
later.” Emily slid the phone back into her purse.

“
Are you sure, because you
can take it if you need to?”

“
Nah. She just calls me to
keep me up-to-date on the store. I’m sure everything’s
fine.”