Dante's Blackmailed Bride (11 page)

When it came to Francesca he was neither emotionless, nor logical, let alone cool and calm. The very thought of her caused a burning desire so overwhelming that it didn’t leave room for anything else.

Marco followed Sev into the apartment. Stooping, he reached under the coat closet and snagged a large, thick envelope. “Here it is. Right where she said it’d be.” He sent the packet spinning in Sev’s direction. “Happy now? Glad you didn’t accuse her of selling her designs to the competition?”

Sev jerked as though punched. “She’d never—” he said automatically.

“You’re right. She’d never.” Marco glared at him. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Do you have any idea what the rest of us would give to feel The Inferno for a woman like Francesca? To know that we could actually share a life with a woman like her, instead of longing for what we can never have? Instead of settling for second best? I never thought I’d say this to you, of all people, but you’re a fool, Severo Dante.”

Without a word, Sev ripped open the envelope and pulled out a sketchpad. He flipped it open and spared it a swift glance. And then he froze. “Marco…”

“What now?” He shifted to stand beside Sev, and whistled softly. “If you needed proof how much she loves you, here it is.”

Sev nodded. Page after page revealed some of the most incredible jewelry designs he’d ever seen—designs ideal for the expansion Dantes’ planned for some point in the future. It didn’t take much thought to understand what she’d done…or why.

He understood all too well why she’d left these designs, designs she’d clearly been working on for years. She’d taken with one hand by giving the Bloom account to TH, and given with the other by presenting Dantes with these designs, dispensing a rough sort of justice. Only, she had more than compensated Dantes for what she’d given to Timeless Heirlooms.

She’d left him an incomparable gift, one that decimated the priorities he’d set in stone the day he’d first taken over from his father. A gift that made him realize there could only be one priority in his life from this point forward, and it wasn’t Dantes.

The gift she’d given him wasn’t the designs contained in her sketchpad. She’d left behind the gift of her heart.

Another month passed after Francesca’s conversation with Marco. A month of pain and sorrow and regret. During those weeks, she’d come to the realization that Sev’s feelings for her were truly dead, that The Inferno no longer burned for him the way it still burned for her.

Even when she received instructions to return to San Francisco on company business, she’d been unable to summon so much as a spark of hope. After all, miracles didn’t exist. She’d learned that at the tender of age of eight when she’d been discarded by the people she’d hoped would one day be her adoptive parents. She knew better than to expect the door to open and for her to be welcomed in. She’d been disappointed too many times. And Sev had made himself abundantly clear before sending her to New York. She no longer belonged to the Dante inner circle.

She crossed to the mirror and examined her dress. She’d been specifically asked by Sev’s assistant to wear red in order to fit in with the theme chosen for this evening’s festivities. What theme, no one had bothered to explain. So, Francesca picked the brightest, most glorious shade of red she could find.

The fitted bodice glittered with Swarovski crystal beads, while the chiffon skirt drifted outward from her hips to the floor in layers of handkerchief veils that lifted and swirled on an invisible breeze. After some debate, she chose to leave her hair down and it fell in heavy curls to shoulders bared by the halter neckline of the gown.

Dantes had sent over jewelry to wear for the evening. She’d never seen the pieces before, but they were positively breathtaking. The necklace and earrings were simple confections, as romantic as they were elegant, featuring some of the most stunning fire diamonds she’d ever seen. Based on the design of the engagement ring she’d worn for far too brief a time, she would bet these latest items were Primo’s creations, as well.

After checking the mirror a final time, she forced herself to leave the relative safety of the suite before Sev sent out a search party. Not giving herself a chance to reconsider, she took the elevator to the lobby and crossed to the steps leading to the ballroom. She hesitated at the threshold, searching for a friendly face. Instantly a hum of desire lit up like a Roman candle and she turned her head, keying in on Sev.

How could she ever have imagined that The Inferno had finished with them, or that her love would dwindle over time? The urge to go to him, to touch him, to have him possess her mouth…her body…slammed through her. It grew so strong, she could do nothing more than obey the silent imperative. She took a half-dozen steps in Sev’s direction before a sudden whisper of voices swelled, then faded, leaving behind a thunderous silence.

Her step faltered and she glanced around, only then realizing that while she wore flaming red, everyone else present was dressed in black and white. Only one other person also wore red, if only a scrap of the color. Sev’s pocket handkerchief was a rich shade of ruby that stood out against his black suit and white dress shirt. Feeling painfully conspicuous, she held her head high and finished wending her way toward him.

She greeted him with a cool nod, while inside she burned with the hellish fires of desire. “Mr. Dante.”

A small smile played about his mouth. “Ms. Sommers. If you’ll come with me?”

He led the way to a small dais and approached the microphone. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming this evening to Dantes’ launch of a brand-new collection. With me is the creator of that collection, its heart and soul, Francesca Sommers.”

She froze in total shock. More than anything she wanted to grab Sev’s hand for support, to demand an explanation. She turned to look at him, and every thought slid from her head, except one. She still loved this man. Utterly. Totally. Completely. From this day until the end of days.

“What’s going on?” she pleaded.

“Smile, sweetheart,” he murmured. “They’re all here for you.”

“But…why?”

He stepped toward the microphone again. “Please enjoy your evening, as well as our grand launch of…” He swept his arms wide. “Dante’s Heart.”

From either side of the ballroom, models appeared, each wearing a different one of the designs Francesca had left behind for Sev to use. Designs she’d envisioned as a teenager. Designs she’d worked on for a full decade and never quite brought to life—until she’d opened her heart to love. To Sev’s love. Only then had she found the spark that turned her creative flame into a creative inferno.

She began to tremble in reaction. “You’re using my designs to relaunch Dantes into a full line of jewelry?” Why had he done this? What did it mean?

“Jewelry for the contemporary woman.” His hands settled on her shoulders and he gazed down at her with eyes more vivid than the sun. “You’re Dante’s Heart, my love. At least you’re
this
Dante’s heart.”

Applause exploded around them and excited chatter swelled as the assembled guests got their first look at the new line. Tears filled Francesca’s eyes. “I love you, Sev. More than you can possibly guess. I’m sorry, so sorry for everything—”

He stopped her words with a shake of his head. “Don’t apologize. That’s for me to do. I never should have put you in such an impossible position. It won’t happen again. From now on you are and always will be first in my life.” He inclined his head toward the gathering. “Do you hear them, sweetheart?”

She said the first thing that popped into her head. “They’re clapping.”

He grinned. “How could they not? They’re witnessing something extraordinary.” He laced his hand with hers and something deep inside gave way, a rending of barriers that had been erected when she’d been a frightened child of five. And in its place, the connection between them expanded and grew, rooting deep and permanent. “Come with me. We need to talk.”

She glanced toward the doors leading onto the balcony. “I think I know the perfect location.”

Together they left the dais, intent only on escape. Not that they were allowed such an easy out. Family came first, as Primo enveloped her in a huge bear hug, followed by a warm embrace from Nonna. Marco approached, sweeping her into a dizzying dip and laughing kiss full on the mouth. Then Lazz, who settled for a chaste peck on the cheek. And finally, Nicolò, who kissed the back of her hand with old-world gallantry.

Next, friends and associates impeded their progress, raving about the collection and using words that left Francesca choked with emotion. Words like “spectacular” and “unparalleled” and “generation defining.” Mere feet from escape, Francesca came face-to-face with the Fontaines. Instantly, Sev’s arm wrapped around her, offering strength and protection. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, an unspoken message that even though she appreciated his support, she intended to handle this confrontation on her own terms.

“Tina, Kurt.” She offered a smile. Not one of apology. Not one of nervousness or regret. But an open smile of genuine affection. A smile from the heart.

To her astonishment, they responded in kind. “Has Severo told you the news?” Tina asked.

Francesca glanced in bewilderment from Sev back to the Fontaines. “What news?”

Sev shook his head. “I was hoping we’d run into you, so you could tell her, yourself.”

Tina grinned. “We reached a compromise. Timeless Heirlooms is now a subsidiary of Dantes. But Sev’s agreed that we can continue to run it, with a few changes to assist the bottom line.”

“Such as Dantes being in charge of acquiring new designers,” Sev inserted. “And a few fiscal repairs that Kurt will oversee.”

Tina waved that aside. “With Dantes’ name behind us and our contract with Juliet Bloom, TH is guaranteed to skyrocket to the top.” Ever the businesswoman, she added, “Anytime you want to contribute one of your designs, my dear, you’re more than welcome.”

Sev gave Tina a pointed look. “I believe there’s something else you wanted to tell Francesca.”

Tina squirmed. “Oh, right. That.” She released a gusty sigh. “I owe you an apology. Sev didn’t tell me about your connection to Kurt. His P.I. did. The man tried to double his profit by reselling the information.”

“I’ve since taken care of the matter,” Sev added.

The tone of his voice left little doubt in Francesca’s mind that the P.I. was bitterly regretting his most recent business decision. “Thank you for clearing that up.”

A nervous light appeared in Kurt’s soft-blue eyes. “We were wondering…That is, Tina and I were wondering…Perhaps you’d be available some evening for dinner. I’d like the opportunity to get to know my daughter. If you’re willing, that is.” He visibly braced himself. “After all we’ve put you through, I’ll understand if you’d rather not.”

Francesca could feel her face crumpling and knew she teetered on the edge of totally losing it. Only Sev’s presence at her back gave her the necessary strength to respond. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

Tina broke from her husband’s side and gave Francesca a swift hug. “I never wanted children. It’s a messy business, one that never suited me. But having a grown stepdaughter sort of appeals. We can—I don’t know—do lunch, or something. Shop and have drinks. Or if you’d prefer a more traditional stepmother, I can have you sweep out the hearth and fix me tea and dress you in soot-covered rags.”

Francesca grinned through her tears at the Cinderella reference. “Works for me. The first part, I mean. Not the rest.”

“Well, then. Fine.” Tina cleared her throat, more awkward than Francesca had ever seen her. “We’re all good, right?”

Francesca laughed. “Very good.”

The instant the Fontaines departed, Sev cupped her elbow and urged her through the double doors and onto the balcony. The night held an unseasonable warmth, soft and balmy. Together they wandered to the balustrade and leaned against it. From their Nob Hill perch they could stare out at the bright lights that glittered below them like a carpet of diamond shards.

“This is where I first saw you,” Francesca murmured.

“This is where I first fell in love with you.” He turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Francesca. I should have trusted my instincts from the beginning. Hell, I should have trusted you. For most of my adult life it’s been my job to protect my family and our business from all threats.”

“And you saw me as a threat.” Not much question about that.

“The biggest threat, because you were the one person capable of tempting me to forget honor and duty and responsibility.”

“I’d never ask you to do that,” she protested. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to open your heart and let me in.”

“It’s wide open, love, and just waiting for you to step across the threshold.”

“Is that The Inferno talking?”

“Maybe it is. Or maybe The Inferno knows what lies in our hearts and forces stubborn men to see the truth. Because the truth is you’re my heart and soul, and always will be. But I’d also like you to be my wife.”

All her life she believed herself on the outside, looking in. Now she realized it wasn’t true. It had never been true. Fear kept her from taking that final step, from seeing the open doors. They’d always been there, she’d just been too busy protecting herself from hurt to take that leap of faith and walk inside.

She took the step now, hurtling herself against Sev. His arms closed around her, bringing her home. And then he kissed her, telling her without words just how much he loved her. Long minutes passed before they drew apart.

He reached into his pocket and removed a familiar looking jeweler’s box, emblazoned with the Dantes’ logo. He thumbed it open, revealing a set of rings. The first was the engagement ring Primo designed, the other the band that mated with it. Maybe it was his imagination, but the fire diamond no longer appeared dim. Now it seemed to rage with its own inner inferno.

He slipped the engagement ring on her finger. “Will you marry me, Francesca, for real this time?”

She positively glowed. “Yes, yes, yes!”

And then he kissed her again, soothing old hurts and offering a promise for the future. Much, much later Francesca rested her head against Sev’s shoulder, her happiness a palpable presence. She gazed toward the ballroom, misty-eyed, and then stiffened within his arms. “Sev, look.”