Dante's Amour

Chapter 1- Always the Victim

Just a reminder before you read this chapter. It would be wise to read the preceeding books: Lone Pines and Daniel's Babe. Just a refresher Diana is the woman Dante helped from the previous book.

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Chapter  One

Diana’s POV

Dante has been incredibly sweet to me over the past few months; helped me do everything from find a job to hunting an apartment that I could afford.  He always seems like he really cares about me, but he never and I mean never has he ever even tried to kiss me or hold my hand.  At first, I was glad he never tried to touch me because I was more than a little skittish after my assault.  Taking me on what I would consider dates usually at least twice a week has resulted in zero affection from him though.  It’s almost like I am an obligation to him or something.  If I didn’t know any better I would think that he does everything for me out of guilt, but what would he have to feel guilty over?  Several times I have wanted to initiate some sort of intimate relationship between us, not sex per se.  It would be nice to have someone to hold my hand while we watch a movie or someone to put their arm around me as we walk through the cool night air. 

Taking a good long look in the mirror I try to assess myself through the eyes of a man.  The scars from my attack will always be there as an ugly reminder, no doubt.  If you look past the scars though, I have a decent body.  My boobs are fairly large but very perky, my waist is slim and flat, my butt is big but big in a ghetto booty kind of way that guys usually like, and my legs are long and lean.  Guys have flirted with me from time to time since the attack but they all seem to scare me other than Dante.  He is my rescuer, my savior, and I would never be afraid of him.  What does he see when he looks at me?  Does he see a battered victim or does he see a shy, yet confident woman?  How can I show him that I want more than to be his friend? 

One thing I could do is wear something provocative.  I haven’t worn anything remotely sexy since months before the incident.  Working sometimes six or seven days a week has built up my savings account nicely.  I could take some of my money and buy some nice clothes that might impress him.  Still looking in the mirror I raise my chin and turn to get dressed for today.  I will be shopping for all things girly; make up, lingerie, and knock-his-socks-off dresses. 

Walking into the dress shop I felt very out of place.  A very nice saleslady came up to me immediately.

“May I help you find something in particular?” she asked with a charming smile that seemed genuine.

“I am going to be honest with you. I need a dress that will say ‘come and get me, I am yours’” I told her. She laughed and waved me over.

“We have a whole selection of those. What’s your size? No, don’t tell me, eight?” she asked.  I nodded and she pulled three beautiful dresses off a rack handing them to me and motioning for me to go to the dressing room.  The first dress I tried on had a dark peach color to it and it was shorter than any dress I had ever worn.  The second was a tight black dress that made me feel sexy. Finally the last dress was a cream colored dress that was tight at the top emphasizing my chest and then flaring out at the bottom, although it was short it was very comfortable.  After selecting the black and the cream colored dresses I went to pay for them.

“My cousin Chelle is a photographer and her model backed out. Would you be interested in modeling for her. She will pay you well the only catch is she has to do it today and in a hurry,” the nice saleslady asked.

“Um, my scars, I don’t think she is looking for someone as scarred up as me,” I said embarrassed.

“No you are perfect. She needs someone who looks native American. Besides even with the scars you are gorgeous,” she complimented.