“So, we both agreed to give it a try with her counseling. He continued to live in the apartment and we started to have dates that we then dissected in her office during our appointments.” Mary sighed. “At first, it was hard. There were still a lot of emotions to work through, but she helped us get through them. And eventually, we started to find each other again, but this time it was better.”
Dante couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice as he asked, “How?”
“I’d always looked up to Joe and kind of put him on a pedestal,” she said, trying to explain. “First he was the “senior boy” to my freshman in high school, and then he went and got his degree while I didn’t, and then he got the big impressive job while I was a housewife. In my mind, we weren’t so much a couple as he was the star and I was just the supporting cast,” she admitted quietly. “But after everything that happened, he was no longer on that pedestal. He was just Joe. On top of that, I realized that I needed to boost my self-esteem and think more of myself, so I started taking classes at the university.”
Dante glanced to her with surprise. “In what?”
Mary hesitated, rolled her eyes and then admitted, “psychology.”
His head swiveled toward her, his eyebrows flying up in surprise and she shrugged helplessly.
“I wanted to better understand myself so I didn’t mess up again,” she admitted wryly, then added, “And I wanted to help others who might be going through the same things I had. Joe and I had wasted so many years on useless emotions we didn’t even understand.” Mary was silent for a minute, then sighed, and said, “So I got a bachelor’s, then a master’s, then went on for my doctorate.”
“You’re a doctor?” he gasped, unable to hold back his shock. That surprised the hell out of him. He’d got used to the idea of her being the housewife she kept talking about. This news was a bit surprising.
“Dr. Winslow, psychologist, at your service,” Mary said lightly with a nod, and then admitted, “It took me a while to get it. I was thirty-four when I started taking courses, and that first term I only took a couple classes. But then I started going full time, and even taking summer courses and I got my doctorate just before turning forty-four.”
Dante didn’t care how long it had taken; it was damned impressive.
“A psychologist,” he said with a smile. “Nice.”
They were both silent for a minute, then he glanced to her and teased, “So how does a psychologist end up with body issues?”
Mary’s eyes narrowed and then he saw her nose rise before he turned his gaze back to the road, and wasn’t really surprised when she snapped, “Actually, I don’t have body issues.”
He was starting to smile at the show of spirit when she added, “At least not with my body.”
Dante’s head snapped around with shock. “Surely you are not suggesting you have problems with my body?”
“Eyes front,” Mary said sweetly, using his own line on him. Once he turned his attention back to the road, she said, “Yes, I’m afraid I do have issues with your body. If you looked more like Dave I’d be dancing around the RV naked and jumping you at every turn.”
Caught briefly by the image of her dancing around the RV naked, it was a moment before the rest of what she’d said sank through his muddled brain. Once it did, Dante squawked, “Dave?”
“Well, not like Dave,” she said quickly, and then soothed his ego by adding, “I’m not attracted to him like I am to you. I just meant if you looked like you but more his age.”
Dante relaxed a little, a slow smile coming to his lips before he reminded her, “I am older than him.”
“Yes, but you look twenty-five,” she pointed out with exasperation.
“So?” he asked mildly.
“So my children are older than that,” she said with disgust.
“And that bothers you,” he said gently, and then pointed out, “Many women would take pleasure and pride in being able to show off a handsome younger man as their lover.”
Mary snorted. “Then they’re idiots. Because everyone is snickering behind their hands and assuming he’s there for money or something.”
“I have a great deal of money, Mary. I am not with you for anything but yourself,” he assured her solemnly.
She fell silent for a minute, and then said quietly, “It’s okay when you’re kissing me. Then I forget about how young you look and how old I am. But when you aren’t kissing me, all I can think about is that you look twenty-five to my sixty-two, and I feel like a dirty old woman contemplating raping a child.”
Dante chuckled at the claim, and then assured her, “I am not a child. And trust me, it would not be rape.” He glanced in the side mirror as a car whipped past them on the highway, then cast a smile her way and offered, “I could tie you down the next time so you can be sure you are not raping me.”
Mary’s eyes widened and he could hear her heart rate speed up at the very thought, then she swallowed thickly and said, “Anyway, Joe and I—”
“Coward,” Dante interrupted, affectionately. “I know you would like me to tie you up. Your heart sped up at the suggestion.”
Mary flushed, but forged on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “Joe and I got back together, but this time it was totally different than the first part of our marriage. We were equals, and friends. We had learned how to communicate with each other, and made sure we did. The last twenty-eight years of our marriage were wonderful. We enjoyed ourselves and each other and did everything together.” She paused then added, “But maybe it wasn’t as great as I thought. Because I trusted he was faithful to me after that, but apparently Dave—”
“Dave was much younger in his memories of his catting-around days with your husband,” Dante interrupted solemnly. “It is most likely they occurred during those fifteen years when you and Joe were having your war of a thousand tortures.”
Mary breathed out a little sigh of relief at this news, obviously glad Joe hadn’t betrayed her again after all the work they’d done to save their marriage. Dante supposed it would have put a pall on what she presently considered the happiest years of her life. But he intended to show her what true happiness was. He would spend the rest of his days doing so. He would never betray her, would always want her, and once he turned her, she would be able to have those children she had always longed for. And Dante would be happy to give them to her. In fact, he knew without a doubt that he would enjoy planting them in her belly and fully intended on practicing doing so the first chance he got. And he would continue that practice until he could convince her to accept being his life mate and agree to the turn, then he would keep her in bed for a year whether she got pregnant quickly or not.
Dante glanced to her again and almost sighed aloud. The woman might think she was too old for him, but he could not look at her without thinking about getting her naked. The things he wanted to do to her . . . and would already be doing to her if not for the constant interruptions and then the arrival of the box and the need to save his brother. But once they had captured his and Tomasso’s kidnappers . . .
By the time he was done, Dante was determined the woman would know how beautiful and sexy she really was.
“War of a thousand tortures?”
Dante glanced to her at that squawk. She’d obviously just realized what he’d called the fifteen years of misery during the first part of her marriage. Shrugging, he said, “That is what those years sound like to me.” Smiling to soften his words, he added, “And I will be most careful not to anger you ever.”
Mary chuckled at the claim, and then fell silent for a moment before glancing at him curiously. “Can you really hear my heartbeat?”
“Si.”
“How?” she asked curiously. “I mean the engine is humming, the windows are cracked open and a breeze is coming in, and everything is jingling and rattling in the back. How can you possibly hear my heart over all of that?”
“The nanos—”
“And where the hell did the fangs come from?” she burst out suddenly, bringing up something that had been nagging at the back of her mind since he’d bitten Dave. “You said the nanos kept your people at peak condition. Peak condition for humans does not include fangs for sucking blood.”