Chapter 17

Alina POV

The pasta was almost done when I heard the click of the front door.

Not rushed knocking, it was a smooth, deliberate way Dante always entered a room,like he owned the air before he even stepped through it.

I didn’t turn right away, I just kept stirred the sauce, letting the scent of basil and garlic bloom between us.

“Smells like you decided not to starve tonight,” he said from behind me.

I could hear the faint clink of something being set on the counter,glass, maybe,and then the low zip of his jacket being shrugged off. A moment later, the warmth of his presence was at...