My Favorite Kidnapper Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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Of all the spots she could wander into, Winters’s gaudy tourist trap was the last place I wanted her. I doubted he was there, but nevertheless, it wasn’t where she should be. And the area was getting risky.

I was grateful for my knowledge of the city and my fast pace. I cut through alleys, between buildings, and down the center of a couple of streets, arriving by the house of trash, as I called it, just in time to see Brianna rush out the door and begin to run. Fury tore through me as Winters appeared behind her at the door, shouting. He saw me and ducked back inside, coward that he was.

Brianna saw me, the panic on her face evident. With a burst of speed, she barreled into me, gasping for breath. As soon as my arms went around her, I felt the relief that eased her body.

“Dante,” she murmured over and over.

I pulled back, gazing down at her.

“Are you hurt?” I was going to kill him if he had injured her in any way.

“No. Winters—he was there. He was—” She burrowed herself back into me. “He was just vile.”

“That’s one word,” I replied, bending and lifting her into my arms, cradling her to my chest. I turned and hurried away from that street. I knew she was upset when she didn’t protest being carried or object to the fact that people would stare. No one even glanced our way. It was Italy, and they were used to odd sights. Once we were far enough away, and her trembling stopped, I set her on her feet and examined her face. Her color had returned, and her eyes were no longer wide and scared. I led her to a café and ordered lattes—her favorite.

“Tell me.”

She repeated what had happened, telling me what Winters had said. “I think I broke something trying to get out of there.”

“He can send me a bill.” I paused, letting her drink her latte. “Why did you go that way, Brianna? I told you to avoid it.”

“I’m helpless with directions. I was just wandering, and I got lost in the crowds. I went in there hoping someone spoke English and could tell me how to get back to your gallery.” She drew in a fast breath. “To you.”

“Right into the spider’s lair,” I mused.

“I’m sorry.”

I ran a finger down her cheek. “As long as you’re okay. I think I’ll wander with you from now on. At least here.”

Her smile was tremulous. “Good idea.”

“Home or lunch?”

“You mean the villa?”

Something warmed in my chest that she considered the villa home. “The condo.”

“Can we have lunch on the way there? Are you done for the day?”

I waved off her concern. I wasn’t leaving her alone again today. “I have a few things to take care of from the condo. I can do that while you relax.”

“Dante, if I relax any more, I’ll be in a coma.”

I threw some money on the table and took her hand. “Humor me.”

Chapter Twenty-One

DANTE

We stopped by the gallery and I picked up what I needed, then we had a simple lunch, eating slices of pizza as we headed back to the condo. “Everything tastes so good here,” Brianna mused.

“The food here is delicious,” I agreed, pleased she seemed okay after her run-in with Winters.

That bastard.

We sat on the terrace when we got back, and I brought us each a cold drink.

“Who are we having dinner with tonight?”

“We’re having dinner with an associate who is helping me broker a deal. I expect you to behave. No wild kidnapping stories.”

I had little hope she would do so, but I had to say it.

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “As if I would embarrass you.”

She ignored my raised eyebrows.

“Now tell me about this associate so I can prepare myself.”

“He has a lot of contacts in America that I don’t have. There is a piece of sculpture I have coveted for years. The owner passed, and his family is open to selling it. I am trying to get it before it goes to auction. Richard is friendly with the family and is acting as an intermediary for me, getting it authenticated and valued. All done very hush-hush as to not alert other collectors who would try to outbid me. If it becomes a free-for-all, the family will simply send it to auction. I’d still fight for it, but this is so much more civilized.”

“Oh, very cloak-and-dagger.” She hummed a tune, and I laughed at her silliness.

“It’s not Mission: Impossible, Little Bee. Just a business deal.”

“Don’t spoil my fun, old man.”

“What did you just call me?”

She shrugged. “Slipped out. Now, we’re discussing your associate.”

I tried not to laugh. She was pushing my buttons. Deliberately.

“Is he married?”

“Several times,” I replied.

“Seeing anyone?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Children?”

“No idea.”

“Hobbies?”

“Collecting art. Selling art. Brokering deals.”



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