Studying Dante

Chapter 1

March 3^rd, 1998, San Francisco:

On Pier 15 on a chilly and foggy night, a tall, brooding man stood on the weathered wooden planks, looking down at the old man lying lifeless at his feet. He took a cigarette from the silver holder he carried in his pocket and lit it. Taking a deep inhale, he contemplated whether to leave the body there and walk away. His brow furrowed at having to even make this decision. This job was really starting to get to him, though he knew that removing such a dangerous man from the streets of San Fran was a good thing. He decided to dump the man into the bay and leave it at that. The water here was so murky, he would never be found. And he would certainly never be missed.

After rolling the body into the water, he stood up, brushed his hands off. At that moment he heard a noise. As if someone watching had stumbled from their perch. He looked up at the tops of the shipping containers and, seeing nothing there, wondered if he imagined it.

The only light on the dock landed on his face and showed his chiseled jaw line, stark blue eyes, and a slight scruff of beard on his face. He pulled the collar of his coat up slightly to fight off the cold ocean air. He had always enjoyed the water, but not this far north. He preferred a warmer climate.

Deciding he really had heard nothing he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his boss. Once he heard the phone on the other end of the line pickup, he simply said,

“It’s done. I’m out.”

The tired look on his face betrayed him, showed just how this job was wearing on him. He had always been alone through this, could never attach himself to someone for fear of actually sharing emotions with someone. It was so much easier to do this job when he never had to deal with actual feelings. And surely, he had convinced himself, it would be too dangerous for anyone who dared get close to him.

He just had not planned on her, the woman who would forever alter his existence.

Chapter 2

July 22, 2008, Santa Cruz

Feeling the need to relax in her outdoor hot tub on a perfectly cool summer evening, Fiona Patrick walked to the edge of the tub and lit the candles she had placed around its perimeter. She dropped her robe on the floor, and eased into the water. Pushing the jets button, she leaned against the side and lowered herself into the bubbling water. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and remembered him: Dante, the almost absurdly handsome hit man. She remembered the last time she had seen him. She had left him in Monaco, wanting more of her. Smiling, she reached up to pull her hair into a twist and clipped it out of the way of the water. Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who she would find. He had been on her mind every day for a long time, and she had heard him walk across this floor on many an evening.

He stood behind her, enjoying the view.

“Fiona. It’s been too long.”

Fiona set her jaw slightly, feigning her disdain for the fact that he had shown up here again.

“I never wanted to see you again.”

Dante smiled at this, knowing that their little cat and mouse game had begun yet again.

“Never?”

His eyes twinkled at this, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She turned her head just slightly to the left, so that she could just see his frame over her left shoulder. Taking this as an invitation, Dante unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the chiseled, muscular torso that Fiona found so breathtaking. With one quick motion, he had removed his black leather belt and allowed his trousers to fall gracefully to the floor. She heard him slide his Italian leather loafers off, one foot at a time. She had forgotten how much he enjoyed this little game of theirs.

Dante slid into the hot tub facing Fiona and gave her a half smile. She raised one eyebrow at this, and asked,

“Are you planning something, Dante?” He leaned in close to her, until he was only an inch from her face.

“Yes, my love, I have a plan.”

The kiss he brought her was no less passionate than every one that had come before. He had a talent for making her forget where she was or what she was supposed to be doing with those kisses. She had never understood how he managed to make her lose track of herself so easily. She was not one to stop him, either. She felt herself start to forget again, and she pulled herself away before it was too late. He looked at her and smiled, raising one eyebrow at her,

“Is something wrong, sweetness?” he asked her, with a hint of amusement in his voice. Fiona leaned back against the tub wall again, her head swimming from that kiss. With a deep, slow breath in to calm herself, she whispered only,

“Amazing…”

Dante smiled, and allowed Fiona to remain in her reverie. How he enjoyed seeing her lost in her imagination like this. She was still amazed that he could make her feel so light, so dizzy, and so breathless. He was surprised that she hadn’t gotten used to him yet. The pair remained in the tub as long as they could, and then retired to her bed, worn out from the heat of the water and the heat they always felt whenever they were within three feet of one another. Dante made sure food was delivered regularly for them, and they only got out of bed when it was absolutely necessary.

Four days later, they were still in bed but Dante was aware of the world enough to enjoy the view. Wind gently blew the floor length sheer curtains and the sounds of the ocean reached Fiona's ears as she slowly woke up. Dante watched her move from deep, restful sleep into this new, refreshed state of being. As she opened her eyes upon his face, she realized that Dante was the only person she ever wanted to wake up to. She smiled as she stretched that first perfect full-body stretch of the day.

“You never told me your plan.” Her words felt slightly blurred to her, as she tried to focus on his face.

She lazily draped one arm across his as she said this, and her hand rested such that she could playfully run her fingers through his short hair. She gradually became more awake, and he smiled at her inability to wake up quickly.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.” Dante’s face was suddenly serious as he said this.

Fiona's face fell, although she was used to hearing this from him. She nodded without answering him and looked up to him for a kiss. Dante leaned in to kiss her and then got out of bed. She wrapped herself in the soft, 300-thread count cotton sheets Dante had bought for her, and sat up to watch him get dressed. This always made her a little sad; the pair would have the most incredible escape from the world and suddenly the journey was over and he was leaving.

Dante turned to look at his beautiful Fiona and she thought for a moment she saw his face falter. He quickly recovered, of course, and just gave a little half smile. Fiona lied back down on her bed, and replayed the last four days in her head.