The morning arrived slowly, the first light spilling across the cove, illuminating the jagged cliffs and the rhythmic pulse of waves below. Isabella stirred, cocooned in the warmth of Dante’s embrace, her mind still lingering on the intensity of the previous night. Every touch, every whisper, every shared breath had left a mark on her that was more than physical—it was emotional, consuming, and utterly undeniable.

Dante was already awake, eyes open, scanning the horizon with the precision of a predator attuned to danger. He had shifted slightly to hold her close, his hand resting lightly on her hip, fingers brushing against her skin in a gesture both possessive and...