Catherine's POV
The moment Julian left our presence, I turned to Dante's and shot him a hard glare, shoving him back. My hands were trembling, and my chest felt like it was going to explode. I stared at him, my breath coming in short, jagged gasps. The shock of the kiss was replaced by a hot, rising tide of anger.
"What the hell was that for?" I demanded, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, glare still fixed on him. "Why did you do that, Dante? I didn't give you permission to touch me, let alone kiss me."
Dante didn't look remorseful. He didn't even look flustered. He just stood there, smoothing out the front of his shirt, his expression was as calm as if we were discussing the weather. He let out a short breath that was half-sigh, half-laugh.
"Calm down, Catherine," he said, his voice low and irritatingly steady. "It was just a kiss. You're acting like I committed a federal crime."
