Chapter 2
Inside, Dominic endured the early galleries with polite boredom. His hands remained in his pockets while he studied paintings as though waiting for the obligation to end.
Then Alora stopped before Caravaggio’s The Calling of Saint Matthew.
She explained how the light entered the room, how the painting concerned choice and redemption, and how Matthew had been corrupt and despised when Christ called him.
She pointed out the way Christ’s hand echoed the hand of God in Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam. Every part of the composition, she explained, concerned the possibility of transformation and another chance.
When she finished, she realized Dominic was not looking at the painting.
He was looking at her.
“What?”
“You are brilliant.”
Her face warmed.
“I only care about history and art.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You illuminate the thing you are describing.”
His voice carried complete conviction.
“Continue. Explain everything.”
They remained inside the museum for 3 hours.
Alora guided him through historical periods, techniques, symbolism, and the lives concealed behind canvases. Dominic listened as though each detail mattered. His questions demonstrated that he retained almost everything she said.
For the 1st time since losing her family, Alora felt someone was genuinely interested in the subjects she loved.
When they left, Dominic appeared lighter.
“I never imagined enjoying a museum.”
“Did you?”
“With you, I did.”
He looked at her carefully.
“You make ordinary things extraordinary merely by explaining them.”
When he suggested dinner, Alora expected an expensive restaurant.
“Pizza,” she said. “There is a place I like. It is inexpensive, but the food is excellent.”
“Pizza is acceptable.”
The restaurant belonged to a loud Italian family. The checkered tablecloths were faded, and the air smelled of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh basil.
Dominic looked conspicuously out of place.
After sitting for several minutes, the tension left his shoulders.
“This is refreshing.”
Their conversation began with food and familiar places, then moved toward the parts of their lives neither discussed easily.
“Do you have family?” Dominic asked.
“I had my parents and a younger brother.”
Sadness tightened Alora’s face.
“They died in a car accident 3 years ago. A truck lost control during heavy rain and struck them.”
She lowered her gaze.
“It happened immediately. At least they did not suffer.”
“I am sorry.”
“Books became a way to escape. The library became my work and most of my life because it was easier than confronting the loneliness.”
“I understand loneliness more than you imagine.”
“Do you have family?”
“I had a brother named Leo.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“He died 2 years ago. It was my fault.”
“I am certain it was not.”
“It was.”
His fingers moved restlessly against the table.
“Leo protected me throughout our lives. When I needed to protect him, I failed.”
Alora reached across the table and covered his hand.
The contact was tentative.
Dominic turned his palm and intertwined their fingers.
“You carry everything alone,” she said.
“I had no alternative. Leaders do that.”
“You do not have to carry it alone in this moment.”
His eyes lifted to hers.
Gratitude, surprise, and something deeper existed in his expression.
After dinner, Dominic insisted on taking her home.
His car was expensive and intimidating, matching the public version of him. The silence during the drive felt comfortable rather than empty.
When they reached Alora’s building, neither moved immediately.
“Thank you for today,” she said. “It was unexpected and wonderful.”
“I did not expect perfection either.”
The quiet between them changed.
Dominic leaned closer, looked briefly at her mouth, then returned his attention to her eyes.
“May I kiss you?”
The request surprised her. A man capable of issuing lethal commands without hesitation had asked permission.
Alora nodded.
The kiss was careful and controlled. His lips moved against hers with respect, allowing her to retreat at any point.
She melted toward him.
When he withdrew, her eyes remained closed and her breathing had changed.
“You have never done this before.”
Shame immediately warmed her face.
“It was my 1st real kiss.”
She attempted to smile.
“Pathetic for someone who is 25.”
“No.”
Dominic held her face.
“It is perfect.”
He kissed her again, deeper but still gentle.
“Mine,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Yours?”
“Mine. You do not understand it completely yet.”
He kissed her once more.
“You will.”
He left the car to open her door and walked her to the entrance of her building.
Before returning to the vehicle, he kissed her again.
Alora stood on the sidewalk watching the car leave, confused, deeply affected, and already falling in love.
Inside the car, Jax watched Dominic.
“How was the research?”
“Be silent.”
“There is something I noticed.”
“Jax.”
“You spent 3 hours inside an art museum.”
“So?”
“You hate museums. You once said you would rather watch paint dry.”
Dominic stared out the window without answering.
Jax smiled.
“You are completely in love.”
“I warned you.”
“I told you that you were finished.”
Dominic finally exhaled.
“I know.”
The admission was quiet.
“I have no idea what to do about it.”
“Enjoy it. From what I saw, she is falling in love with you too.”
For the 1st time since Serena’s betrayal and Leo’s death, Dominic permitted himself to feel hope.
During the following 2 weeks, he appeared at the library almost every day.
He always brought an excuse. He required a history book, a biography, or something concerning Renaissance art.
Alora recognized the weakness of the explanations but smiled each time.
Dominic also visited the café where she ate lunch. Sometimes he sat several tables away and watched her read while eating a sandwich. He learned that she bit her lower lip when concentrating and ordered chamomile tea instead of coffee.
At night, he waited outside her building in the shadows until he knew she had entered safely.
Jax occasionally joined the vigil.
“This has become obsessive stalking.”
“It is preventive protection.”
“Protection from what? Nobody knows she matters to you.”
“They will eventually.”
Dominic did not look away from Alora’s illuminated window.
“When they learn, she will become a target.”
“You could admit that you are obsessed.”
“Obsession is too strong.”
“You spent 3 hours in a museum and enjoyed yourself. You are in love.”
Dominic looked toward Jax.
“If I am, what do you suggest?”
“Stop fighting it, at least privately.”
Ruby noticed Alora’s happiness as quickly as Jax noticed Dominic’s.
Ruby worked at a café and had been Alora’s closest friend since before the deaths in her family. Her concern appeared whenever Alora avoided details.
“What does he do?” Ruby asked while preparing tea.
“Business. Import and export.”
“Importing and exporting what?”
“I do not know. He dislikes discussing work.”
“Does that not seem strange?”
“Some people separate work and personal life.”
“Some normal people do.”
Ruby placed the tea before her.
“The suits, the car, and the way he always watches the room do not seem ordinary.”
Alora had noticed those things and deliberately avoided examining them.
Dominic had brought happiness into a life that had contained little of it for 3 years. She feared questions that might alter what they had begun.
“Be careful,” Ruby said. “You deserve happiness, but you also deserve honesty.”
“I know.”
Alora did not promise to ask.
The days became weeks.
Dominic accompanied her to additional museums. His photographic memory allowed him to retain details she had explained during earlier visits.
“Do you truly enjoy this now?” she asked inside a modern-art gallery. “Or are you pretending for me?”
“I enjoy it.”
His arm rested around her waist.
“When you explain, art becomes living history instead of paint.”
The opera was less successful.
Dominic obtained tickets to Puccini’s Tosca because Alora loved it.
Fifteen minutes into the performance, he leaned toward her inside the balcony.
“This is refined torture.”
She covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
“It is Puccini. It is beautiful.”
“It is too long, and I am becoming sleepy.”
“You are impossible.”
“You like it.”
“Possibly a little.”
He took her hand and held it during the remainder of the performance, despite clearly disliking almost every minute.
While Dominic became increasingly involved in Alora’s life, Roman Cross began receiving reports.
Roman had informants throughout Boston. When he learned that Dominic Wolfe repeatedly appeared in public with an ordinary librarian, he became interested.
“Dominic Wolfe has a girlfriend.”
He spoke inside his office while Serena Vaughn sat across from him.
“That is useful.”
“He has not had a serious relationship since me,” Serena said bitterly. “He was married to the organization.”
“Then she matters.”
Roman’s fingers tapped the desk.
“That makes her a weakness we may exploit.”
“Do you want me to identify her?”
“Not yet. Allow him to become comfortable.”
Roman smiled.
“Weaknesses are most effective when the victim believes they remain hidden.”
Jax noticed men from the Cross organization near the library.
“We are being watched,” he told Dominic. “I recognized 2 of Cross’s men yesterday.”
“Did they see Alora with me?”
“Probably. You visit almost every day.”
Dominic’s blood seemed to cool.
“Place discreet protection around her immediately. Two men at all times. If anyone connected to Cross approaches, I want to know.”
“It is already being arranged.”
Jax regarded him carefully.
“You should tell her the truth.”
“Not yet.”
“She will learn eventually. If she learns after someone threatens her, the concealment will damage everything.”
“She will hate me.”
Dominic’s voice hardened.
“I am not prepared to lose her.”
He knew Jax was right.
Still, he could not force himself to destroy the way Alora looked at him—as though he contained something good, as though he might deserve the happiness she offered.
Three weeks after their 1st date, Dominic invited Alora to dinner at his apartment.
He cooked the meal himself.
“Where did you learn this?” she asked after dessert.
“My mother insisted every man should know how to cook.”
A nostalgic smile moved through his face.
“She said women were not servants and that I needed to care for myself.”
“She was wise.”
After dinner, they sat on the large leather sofa overlooking the city.
“Come here,” Dominic said.
Alora settled against his chest, and his arms closed around her.
For a while, they remained still.
Then he tilted her face and kissed her.
The kiss began gently before deepening. His fingers moved into her hair as she held his shoulders.
“I want you,” he said against her mouth.
“I want you too.”
He lifted her and carried her to the bedroom.
The room was dark except for the city light entering through the windows. He removed her clothing slowly, touching her with a care that made her feel precious rather than exposed.
When his hand moved along her thigh, Alora panicked.
Tears came before she could explain them.
Dominic froze and pulled away immediately.
“Alora, what happened? Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
She covered her face.
“You did not hurt me. I have never—”
He lifted her into his arms and held her against his chest.
“Look at me. Tell me.”
“I have never done this.”
“Never as in—”
“Never.”
Her voice broke.
“No one has wanted me this way. I am a virgin, and you will think I am strange and childish.”
“Stop.”
He held her face and forced her gently to meet his eyes.
“Do you believe that matters to me?”
“It matters to everyone.”
“I am not everyone.”
His entire body had become tense.
“You have never been touched?”
“No.”
The silence that followed altered him.
Something possessive, protective, and primitive entered his expression.
“Then I will be the 1st.”
His voice was hoarse.
“And the last. Only me. Always.”
“Dominic.”
“No one else touches you this way. No one else kisses you this way. No one else has all of you.”
May you like
He softened his hold on her face.
“Only me.”
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