Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 233

Gianna's POV

I fumbled with the headset as the rotors above us began to spin. The noise was incredible, vibrating through my entire body.

Dante's hands moved over the controls with expert ease, confident and completely in command.

It was absurdly attractive.

Then we were lifting off the ground, the helicopter rising smoothly into the air.

Chills shot through me, and I grabbed the edge of my seat, my knuckles white as Monaco spread out below us.

"You okay?" Dante's voice came through the headset, warm and amused.

"Fine," I replied quickly, trying to sound braver than I felt. But my grip on the seat did not loosen, and my breathing was shallow.

"Gianna." His voice was softer now. "Look at me."

I turned my head, meeting his gaze even through the dark lenses.

"You're safe with me. Always." His hand left the controls briefly to cover mine, warm and steady. "I've been flying for years. Trust me."

"I do trust you." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "It's just... we're so high."

"We are." His thumb stroked over my knuckles. "But I've got you. I'll always have you. Just breathe, pretty doll."

I took a shaky breath, then another. His hand squeezed mine before returning to the controls.

"Keep your eyes on me if it helps," he said. "Don't look down if you don't want to."

So I did. My eyes followed the way his face turned serious, his hands flexing as he moved over the controls with absolute confidence. The sunlight streaming through the cockpit caught the sharp line of his jaw.

The fear did not disappear entirely, but it shifted into admiration.

"Better?" he asked after a moment.

"Better," I admitted.

"Good girl." The approval in his voice sent heat through me.

"You did not tell me you could fly."

"You did not ask." I could hear the smile in his voice. "There is a lot you do not know about me yet, pretty doll. But we have time."

I could not tear my eyes away from him.

He looked like some kind of fantasy, powerful, skilled, completely in control.

"Stop looking at me like that," he warned, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

My cheeks flushed. "Like what?"

"Like you want me to land this helicopter right now so you can climb into my lap."

My breath caught. "I was not..."

"Yes, you were." He glanced at me then, and even through the dark lenses I felt the intensity of his gaze. "And believe me, I want that too. But I need to get us there first."

"Get us where?"

"You will see." His hand left the controls just long enough to reach over and squeeze my thigh, high enough to make me squirm. "Patience."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head, and turned to look out the window again.

We flew along the coast, the Mediterranean sparkling below us. The view was breathtaking, but I kept finding my eyes drawn back to Dante.

"You're staring again," he drawled.

"Can you blame me? You're flying a helicopter. That is..." I trailed off.

"That is what?"

"Hot," I admitted, my face burning.

His hand found my thigh again, this time higher. "You think so?"

"You know you are."

"I like hearing you say it." His thumb stroked the inside of my thigh, sending sparks through me. "What else do you like about it?"

"Dante..." My voice was breathless. "You're supposed to be flying."

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