But he was already stepping inside, closing the door behind him with the kind of deliberate slowness that made her skin prickle.
Isabella backed away, her hand moving to the drawer beside the couch. The gun was where she'd left it...fully loaded, safety off. She pulled it out and pointed it directly at his chest.
"Get out of my apartment now," she said again, and this time her voice was shaking. "I will shoot you. I'm not joking."
Dante stood in the center of her living room, looking at her like she'd just offered him the greatest gift. His dark eyes traced over her body, the bare legs, the thin shirt with no bra underneath, he could see her nipples, already hard, the gun pointed at him with trembling hands.
"You know you won't shoot me, Isabella," he said, his voice casual. Like she didn't have a loaded weapon trained on his heart. "So drop the gun."
