Dante's Blackmailed Bride (10 page)

It opened almost immediately. “What the hell…?” Sev took one look at her and swept her across the threshold and into his apartment, ignoring her disjointed protests about dripping all over his hardwood floors. “I don’t give a flying f—” He tempered the expression. “A flying
fig
about the damn floors. I care about you. What the hell’s happened? Are you all right?”

“I’m wet.” She trembled and held out the packet of designs. “Maybe cold, too. I’m shaking so hard it’s sort of tough to tell.”

He snatched the designs from her hand and tossed them aside. The packet hit the floor and skidded under an antique coat closet. Then he unceremoniously swept her up into his arms and carried her into the master bathroom. She couldn’t rouse herself enough to fight him when he stripped first her, and then himself, and pulled them both into the glassed-in shower stall. He turned the jets on high and she stood docilely beneath the blazing-hot torrent and let the water wash away all emotion.

“What happened?” he asked again, more gently this time.

She didn’t even realize she spoke until she heard her voice echoing against the tile. “He didn’t want me, Sev. My father. He agreed to meet me tonight and then sent me away. He said he was sorry. Sorry!” She covered her face with her hands as she fought for control. “Sorry he had an affair with my mother. Sorry she became pregnant. Sorry Tina found out the truth. He said he couldn’t see me ever again.”

“He’s a fool.”

“Why?” She dropped her hands and stared up at Sev. “What did I do wrong?”

He hugged her fiercely. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not a damn thing. It’s them, honey. Something’s wrong with them. But you have me and you have the rest of the Dantes. And they flat-out adore you. We’ll be your family from now on.”

“When they find out we’re not really engaged, they won’t want me, either,” she felt obligated to point out.

“They will. I promise.” He continued to hold her close while the water poured down on them. “Easy, sweetheart. Let it all out. You’ll feel better if you do.”

Let what out? Didn’t he understand that she felt dead inside? Her father rejected her. She couldn’t say why she cared so much. After all, what did one more rejection matter after so many? At long last, Sev shut off the water and left her dripping, naked and alone, in the middle of the tile floor. An instant later he reappeared with an armload of towels. He slung one around his waist and dropped another on her head, before swathing her from shoulders to knees in a third. Then he proceeded to rub her down with a briskness that caused her skin to glow.

“What are you doing?” she asked, mildly curious.

“You’re in shock. I need to get you warm.”

She peered at him from beneath the towel. “I’m not shocked. I’m not even surprised. I knew what would happen if Kurt and Tina found out the truth about me.”

He knelt at her feet, drying her with an impersonal touch that had her responding in far too personal a way. “You’d be rejected, just as you’ve been rejected so many times before.”

“I’m sort of used to it.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s what kills me.”

“Don’t let it bother you. It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore.”

“I shouldn’t ask. But I will.” He rocked back on his heels and stared up at her, his face set in grim lines. “Why doesn’t it bother you anymore?”

She spoke slowly, as though to a backward child. “Because I can’t feel.” Sheesh. Didn’t he get it? “When you can’t feel, it doesn’t hurt.”

For some reason that made him swear. When he’d run out of invectives, he planted a hand low on her back and ushered her from the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

“Several, I think.”

“Hmm. And something to eat.”

Ten minutes later, she was curled up on the floor in front of a fire, dining on a selection of imported cheese and crackers while sipping the smoothest single-malt whiskey she’d ever tasted. Sev lounged beside her, a towel still knotted at his waist. She woke to her surroundings sufficiently to admire the miles of toned muscle rising above the soft white fleece.

Lord help her, but he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He hadn’t bothered to brush his hair, simply slicked it back from his face so it clung damply to the back of his neck in heavy, dark waves. His features reminded her somewhat of Primo, with the same rugged handsomeness and noble bearing. And, of course, the same stunning eye color. But the rest…Oh, my. The rest was pure Severo Dante.

She buried her nose in the crystal tumbler and took a quick sip. Unable to help herself, she peeked at him from over the rim. Memories from their nights together came storming back. They’d made love right here in front of the fire at least a half-dozen times. Several more times on the couch behind them when they’d been too impatient to traverse the short distance from there to the bedroom. Most nights she shared with him a pathway appeared, one strewn with clothes spreading from front door to bed.

How she enjoyed those moments, when she finally wrestled him free of that last article of clothing. He had the most incredible body, lean and graceful, yet powerful enough to lift her with ease, which he often did, then tip her onto silken sheets and cover her with that endless length of potent masculinity.

She drained the last of the whiskey and set the glass aside. “I need you to do me a favor,” she informed him.

“If I can.”

“Oh, you can.” The only question was…would he? “I want you to make love to me. I want to feel something again.”

He studied her for a long, silent moment and she could see him preparing a list of excuses. She was too vulnerable. He didn’t want to take advantage of her. There were still so many issues unresolved between them. But something in her gaze, or perhaps it was something buried deep in his heart, must have convinced him otherwise.

Instead of turning her down, he tugged the towel free of her hair and tossed it aside before pulling her onto his lap and thrusting his hands deep into her damp curls. Turning her to fully face him, he closed his mouth over hers in a kiss hot enough to leave scorch marks. She opened for him, welcoming him home. The duel was short and sweet, a battle for supremacy that neither lost, yet both won.

“Do you feel that?” he asked.

The question slid from his mouth to hers and she laughed softly in response. “I’m not sure. I might have noticed a slight tingle.”

His eyes narrowed. “Slight tingle?
Slight?
”

She blinked up at him with provocative innocence. “Very slight.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that.”

He flipped her off his lap and onto her back. Firelight lapped over his determined face and caught in his eyes, causing the gold to burn like wildfire. She missed this. Missed seeing his abandoned reaction whenever they touched. Missed the romantic soul that blunted the contours of his male sexuality. Missed opening to him—physically and emotionally—in the darkest hours of the night and sharing all she hid within her heart. And having him share what he kept locked away in his. But most of all she missed
this.
The intimacy. The passion. Possessing and being possessed.

He kissed her again. Deeper. More thoroughly. He worshiped her with mouth and tongue until she went mindless with pleasure. “Tell me you feel that,” he demanded.

She groaned. “A tickle. Barely a tickle.”

“Right. That’s it.”

Uh-oh. Annoyed obstinance if ever she heard it. He kissed a path downward, mixing the gentle caresses with love nips that had her toes curling into knots. He ripped the towel open and bared her to a combination of firelight and heated gaze. He shot her one last lingering look before applying himself to his appointed task.

He glided his hands along the sides of her breasts, using just the very tips of his fingers so he barely connected with her skin. She shivered at the sensation, shocked that so light a touch could provoke such a strong reaction. Around he circled, edging ever closer to the pebbled tips. She fought with every ounce of self-possession to keep from crying out, almost shooting off the plush carpet when his teeth closed over her nipple and tugged.

If she’d ever questioned The Inferno before, she didn’t now. It erupted, low in her belly, spilling over like molten lava. It liquefied everything in its path as it began an onslaught of hunger so deep and all-consuming, she literally shook with the effort to contain it.

He moved lower, touching her belly with his fingers and mouth. Lower. Brushing the nest of curls that protected her feminine core. Lower. Took the heart of her with his mouth. She went deaf and blind as her climax ripped her apart. She fought to draw air into lungs squeezed breathless, barely aware that Sev had left her side.

She still hadn’t recovered when he returned, carefully protected, and settled between her thighs. “Do you feel alive now? Do you feel wanted?”

Sensations toppled one on top of another, so intense she couldn’t process them all. “Sev…” His name escaped in a husky cry, half concession, half demand. “Please.”

He probed inward, a teasing, swirling movement. “Do you feel this?”

“Yes.” She moaned as he slid deep, driving all the way home. “I’m definitely feeling something I never have before.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. She’d never felt more alive. Never felt more wanted or cherished. Never belonged with anyone as she did with Sev in this moment. Her climax approached again, every bit as powerful as before. Only this time he joined her. To her amazement, it didn’t rip or shred, but melded, uniting them together in something so different, so special, she couldn’t at first find the word to name it. And then it came to her and in doing so, overwhelmed her with the devastating knowledge.

In that brief moment, she no longer stood on the outside looking in. Love opened the door and she flew inside.

M
orning found Sev in bed wrapped around Francesca in a complicated tangle of arms and legs. He had a vague recollection of scraping her boneless body off the carpet and tossing her over his shoulder before staggering to the bedroom. Or maybe they’d just crawled here.

She stirred within his embrace and flopped onto her back with a groan. He smiled at the sight. She’d gone to bed with damp hair and now it surrounded her head like a fluffy halo. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate her appearance anywhere near as much as he did.

His smile faded as a new and unfamiliar realization took hold. Last night their relationship had changed, a change that went way beyond what it had been before, on either the work front or as former lovers. Somehow, it had shifted them into an entirely new realm, a realm neither of them anticipated.

“Who glued my eyes shut?” She forced one open. “Hey, we’re in bed.”

“Excellent observation.”

“How’d we get here?”

“Beats the hell out of me.”

“Maybe I carried you in before I had my wicked way with you. Again.”

He grinned. “That’s entirely possible.”

“Is it just me…” She hesitated, an innate wariness flickering like a warning light. “Or did something peculiar happen to us last night? Even more peculiar than The Inferno, I mean. Although how that’s even possible is beyond me.”

He framed her face, tracing the delicate bone structure with his fingertips until the shape and texture became as familiar to him as his own. The need to remain in physical contact with her had become an urge he no longer bothered resisting. The Inferno had won.

“I believe we both realized the truth last night,” he admitted.

She regarded him with some reservation. “Which is?”

“This isn’t going away.” He lifted her left hand and studied the engagement ring she wore. The inner fire seemed to erupt from the center of the diamond, fiercer than he’d ever seen it before. “Maybe we should consider making this permanent.”

He absorbed her jerk of surprise, felt her heart rate kick up a notch. “Are you serious?”

“I think it’s worth discussing, don’t you?”

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. It grew until her entire face radiated with it. “I wouldn’t mind,” she admitted softly.

On the nightstand table, his cell emitted a soft buzz and Sev swore beneath his breath. “I should have left the damn thing in the other room.”

She jackknifed upward and snatched a swift kiss. “Go ahead and take it while I get cleaned up.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

She bounced off the bed and darted into the bathroom. Her muffled shriek of dismay put a grin on his face. Something told him she’d just discovered a mirror. He snagged the phone and flipped it open. “This better be good,” he growled.

“It’s Lazz. And it’s not good. In fact, it’s an effing mess. If you’d bothered to come to work this morning—”

“Get to the point,” Sev interrupted.

“Seriously, bro, what the hell are you doing and why aren’t you here? There is a fan sitting on my desk cranked to high and you can’t believe what just hit it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Francesca.”

Hell. He glanced toward the bathroom. Water ran in the sink and he could hear her humming, the sound light and happy and slightly off-key. “What’s the problem?”

“Bloom’s rep called. They’ve decided to go with Timeless.”

“Not good, but we knew winning that account would be a long shot. What’s it got to do with Francesca?”

At the sound of her name, she appeared in the doorway. She’d tamed her hair, much to his disappointment, and—even more disappointing—slipped on one of his shirts. She shot him a questioning look as she rolled up the sleeves, an incandescent happiness pouring off her in waves. After the meeting with Kurt, he didn’t think she’d ever find joy again. But she had, and it humbled him that she found it in his arms.

“Francesca’s the one who convinced Bloom to go with TH,” Lazz said.

Sev shot off the bed. “Not a chance.”

“I’m dead serious. Sev, I spoke to the rep. Personally.”

He bowed his head and stared at the floor. “She wouldn’t have done that. I want you to double-check, Lazz. Triple-check, if that’s what it takes. Find out why Bloom’s rep would lie to you.” And then he looked up, straight into Francesca’s eyes. What hovered there in the shadowed darkness had him breaking off with a word he’d never normally use in her presence. He flipped the phone closed. “Lazz doesn’t need to triple-check, does he? Bloom’s rep told him the truth.”

His shirt hung on her, making her appear small and fragile. Or maybe it was the barriers she slammed back in place. He never realized how utterly they enshrouded her until she emerged from their protective folds. Last night she’d bared herself in a way she never had before, not in all the time they’d been together.

Francesca shook her head. “There’s no point in his checking again.”

“You contacted Juliet Bloom’s representative?” At her nod, he hit her with his accusation. “You advised her to go with Timeless.”

“Yes. I guaranteed she wouldn’t lose if she did so. That it would only benefit her.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Payback, Francesca?” he asked softly.

She tilted her chin to a combative angle and fixed him with a cool, remote gaze that shot his blood pressure straight through the roof. “I prefer to call it insurance.”

“Explain,” he rapped out.

“Timeless Heirlooms owns the designs that Juliet Bloom is so crazy about. The ones I created. She wants to wear them in her next film. Dantes plans to purchase TH, not put them out of business, so Timeless will endure regardless of ownership. Once the company is safely tucked back into the Dantes’ fold, you’ll receive the continued benefit from having someone of Bloom’s caliber as your spokeswoman.”

“
If
we tuck TH back into the Dantes’ fold,” he corrected tightly.
“If.”

“You’ve already assured me it’s going to happen, regardless of me or the Fontaines, or even Juliet Bloom.” She lifted an eyebrow. “A lie, Sev?”

His back teeth clamped together. “It’s no lie.”

“Then what’s the problem?” She stepped from the bathroom, wary enough to keep her distance. Smart woman. “All I’ve done is ensure that you honor the contract we signed and pay the Fontaines a fair price for TH. Now that Bloom’s agreed to be the spokeswoman for them, Kurt and Tina will reunite. They’ll have no other choice if they want that contract. Knowing Tina as I do, she won’t let a little thing like an illegitimate daughter stand in the way of a deal of this magnitude.”

“It will, however, make it more difficult for me to acquire TH.”

She graciously conceded the point, which had him backing up a step so he wouldn’t give in to temptation and throttle her. “But it will happen. And when that day comes, since I work for you, I’m also available to work with Ms. Bloom should she wish to expand the current collection I designed for her, or have me create a whole new one for her at some point in the future. And if you don’t buy out TH, Ms. Bloom will most likely jump ship and become Dantes’ spokeswoman, since I now work for you. As far as I can tell, everyone comes out of this a winner.”

“Except for you.”

That stopped her. About damn time. “What are you talking about?” For the first time a hint of uncertainty crept into her voice.

“I’m talking about the fact that I have the option to either fire you, in which case I’ll see to it that you don’t work in the industry for the next two years. Or I can transfer you to another office. Either way, Bloom will no longer be your problem.”

“Which do you intend to do?”

Francesca asked the question so calmly, if he didn’t know better he’d have thought she didn’t care. But if he’d learned nothing else about her, he had learned that designing jewelry was as much a part of her as her heart or soul. In fact, it
was
her soul. He couldn’t take that away from her, no matter how badly her actions had hurt him.

And they had hurt him. This wasn’t about business, anymore. In fact, she’d shown a ruthlessness he could almost admire. A ruthlessness he, himself, had been forced to employ on occasion. No, this had become personal. It felt personal. It felt as though he’d risked opening himself to her, only to have her use what she’d learned to hurt him.

“I believe there’s a spot open for you in our New York office. I’ll make your transfer effective immediately.”

She jerked as though he’d struck her, staring at him for an endless moment with huge, wounded eyes. Without a word, she turned on her heel and moved through the apartment, gathering her possessions. Sev hardened himself as he waited for her to finish and leave.

Even so, it tore him apart watching her. One more rejection. One more door slammed in her face. Once more out in the proverbial cold. They made one hell of a pair. He scoured his face with his hands. All the while, The Inferno consumed him, raging with the urge to go to her. To fix this. To take her back into his arms and make her his again. His jaw tightened. The hell with it. This was just one more roadblock. A huge one, granted. But surely they could—

The front door opened and quietly closed, locking behind her. Sev charged into the living room, but she was gone, leaving nothing behind but a cold gleam emanating from the fireplace. Sitting on the hearth he found the engagement ring he’d given her. He crossed the room and picked it up.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he could have sworn the fire deep within the heart of the diamond had dimmed.

Francesca sat at her drawing board in her New York office, an office not that dissimilar from the one she’d occupied in San Francisco. Exhaustion dogged her thanks to an endless round of sleepless nights. She’d only been in New York for a month, but already it felt like a lifetime. She rubbed her eyes, struggling to get them to focus on designs that could only be described as mediocre, at best. For some reason, her heart wasn’t in her work anymore.

But then…how could it be? The past few weeks had been some of the darkest and most difficult of her life, far worse than anything she’d gone through in foster care. Worse even than her father’s rejection. She’d made a hideous mistake when she’d contacted Bloom’s rep.

Why hadn’t it occurred to her that by helping the Fontaines, she was betraying Dantes…and more specifically, the man she loved? She’d been so busy easing her own guilt over leaving TH, that she never gave a thought to how her decision would impact Sev, or that thanks to their feelings for each other, he wouldn’t see her actions from a business standpoint, but take her betrayal personally. She’d simply reacted to what she’d perceived as an unfair situation, and taken matters into her own hands.

That still didn’t explain why he hadn’t acknowledged the designs she’d given him on their last night together. She’d hoped he’d understand what they meant. Hoped he’d realize that while she’d won the Bloom account for TH, she’d left him something far more valuable.

A familiar longing filled her as The Inferno gave her a small, petulant kick. Even after all this time the connection remained—stretched thin and taut, granted. Yet, it held with unbelievable tenacity.

The phone on her desk let out a shrill ring and she picked it up, surprised to have her greeting answered with a cheerful, “
Ciao, sorella.
It’s Marco.”

Pleasure mingled with disappointment at the sound of his voice—pleasure to hear from a Dante and disappointment that it wasn’t the right Dante. “It’s good to hear from you,” she replied. “Though I’m surprised that any of you are willing to talk to me.”

“You’d be surprised by how many of us are on your side.” He hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t talk right now. I actually called to ask about some missing designs. Sev would like to know what happened to them. They’re not in your old office. I don’t suppose you took them with you to New York?”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. I gave them to Sev.”

“When, Francesca?”

“The night—” She broke off. The night they’d last made love. “The night before I transferred to New York. I brought them to Sev’s apartment.”

“He claims he doesn’t have them.”

Memory kicked in. “It had been raining the night I gave him the designs and I was soaked through. I vaguely recall he took them and tossed them onto the floor, out of the way.” An image flashed through her mind. “I think they slid under that lovely old armoire he has in the entryway. You know the one I mean? He may not have noticed.”

“Got it. Thanks, Francesca.” He hesitated. “Are you…are you doing okay?”

No. Not even close to okay. “I’m fine.”

“Right.” She could hear the irony slipping through the line. “About as fine as Sev, I’d guess.”

Francesca closed her eyes. “I have to be fine,” she whispered. “We both do. There isn’t any other choice.”

“You didn’t need to come with me,” Sev informed Marco. “I’m perfectly capable of looking under my own coat closet.”

“I came to try and make you see sense, as you damn well know.”

“I always see sense. I’m the most sensible one of the lot of you.”

“Not about this. Not when it comes to Francesca.”

Sev shoved his key into the front door lock and twisted so hard it was a wonder the metal didn’t snap off in his hand. “What’s gotten into you, Marco? What part of ‘she betrayed us’ don’t you get?”

“And how many times did you betray her?” his brother shot back. “I know. I know. You had valid reasons. It was all about protecting Dantes. So answer me this, hotshot. What makes that okay and what she did not okay? She was protecting her family the same as you.”

That very question had been tearing Sev apart. How could he explain to his brother that it wasn’t about business anymore? How could he explain the irrational belief that
this
betrayal felt personal? That this time he’d allowed his emotions to override his common sense? For the first time in his life, he, the Dante who prided himself on cool emotionless deliberation, who used calm logic and rational thinking to govern all of his business decisions, hadn’t been able to utilize any of his skills or abilities.