Nicolò’s Wedding Deception (The Dante Inferno: The Dante Dynasty Series Book 3)

by Day Leclaire

  The Dante Inferno:

  Nicolò’s Wedding Deception

  The Dante Dynasty Series: Book #3

  by

  Day Leclaire

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Other Titles by Day Leclaire

  Excerpt: Lazz’s Contract Marriage

  Meet Day Leclaire

  Dedication

  Book Description

  Nicolò’s Wedding Deception, Book #3

  A liar and a thief … or his Inferno mate?

  When Kiley O’Dell claims to own half the mines that contain Dantes legendary fire diamonds, the family sends the most ruthless and cynical of the brothers, Nicolò Dante, the family troubleshooter, to negotiate with her. Neither expect the legendary Inferno to strike, sending both up in flames.

  Nicolò suspects Kiley’s claim is a con. And he’ll do whatever necessary to get to the truth, even chase a panicked and fleeing Kiley. To his horror, she darts into traffic and is hit by a cab before he can save her. After she wakes, she insists she has amnesia. Now he’s certain she’s conning him, and he has a way to prove it.

  Turning the tables on Kiley, Nicolò claims she’s his wife. What he doesn’t expect is for The Inferno to tumble them into a fierce love affair. Which is the real Kiley? The sweet, passionate woman in his bed, someone he’d do anything to keep, or the crafty con artist he first met? And what will happen when she discovers they’re not married at all, that far from being her loving husband, Nicolò is out for vengeance?

  Lover or liar? Devious or delectable? Only The Inferno can determine which.

  Note to Readers: Nicolò’s Wedding Deception is Book #3 in The Dante Inferno: The Dante Dynasty Series, a contemporary romance series by USA Today bestselling author and eleven-time RITA© (Romance Writers of America) finalist, Day Leclaire. This story features passionate Italian-American heroes, the scorching connection of The Inferno, and a sizzling romance between soul mates.

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  Prologue

  Nicolò Dante anticipated trouble the same way he anticipated marriage—one part dread, and two parts determination to find a way out of the whole unfortunate mess.

  Some men found a certain inevitability to the sorry state of “wedded amiss.” His two brothers, Sev and Marco, had eventually succumbed to the entire process like the not-quite-proverbial rams to the slaughter. Well, not him. He had enough trouble in his life without looking for more.

  And right now, that trouble took the form of Kiley O’Dell.

  “We need you to look into this,” his eldest brother, Sev, instructed. “According to the documents Caitlyn uncovered, there’s a distinct possibility that this woman may own a substantial interest in Dantes’ fire diamond mine.”

  Such a simple statement, yet the implications were dire, and could cause endless problems for Dantes’ jewelry empire, an empire whose fame was built on the lure of fire diamonds. They could be found nowhere else in the world, except deep within the bowels of a Dante mine, and they were coveted by everyone from royalty to heads of state to the local shopkeeper around the corner.

  Nicolò’s expression darkened. “Our dear sister-in-law should have kept her nose out of those old papers. They’ve brought us nothing but grief.” He lifted an eyebrow in question. “Does Marco have no control over Caitlyn?”

  Sev shook his head in disgust. “You really don’t have a clue, do you?”

  “I’m probably the only one who does.” Nicolò leaned a hip against his older brother’s desk. “What’s the point of being so damn charming, if he can’t use some of it on his own wife? He tricked her into marriage, didn’t he? Now that he’s got her, the least he can do is keep her out of trouble.”

  Sev crossed his arms across his chest, his burnished gold eyes brilliant with laughter. “Keep digging that hole, bro. Your Inferno bride will be delighted to bury you in it when you eventually come across her.”

  “Forget it.” Nicolò made a brisk slicing movement with his hand. “As far as I’m concerned the family curse—”

  “Blessing,” Sev corrected mildly.

  “Blessing? Hell, it’s more like an infection.”

  Sev tilted his head to one side and considered the description. “That’s an interesting analogy, although I’d say The Inferno is closer to a melding.”

  Nicolò allowed a hint of curiosity to show. “What was it like when you first felt The Inferno for Francesca?”

  “Are you finally admitting it exists?”

  “I’m willing to admit you and Marco believe it does,” Nicolò conceded grudgingly.

  “And Primo.”

  Nicolò dismissed that with a swift shake of his head. “Our grandfather is the one who has perpetuated the legend all these years. It offers a convenient excuse to explain lust, no more and no less.”

  “Now you sound like Lazz,” Sev said. “But if that were true, Caitlyn never would have been able to distinguish between Marco and Lazz, considering how difficult it is to tell the two apart. And yet, she picked out her husband without any doubt or hesitation. And she did it under the most extreme circumstances. Wasn’t that enough to convince you?”

  Nicolò couldn’t deny fact. Nor could he rationalize what he’d seen that day. But that didn’t mean he’d allow Sev to draw him into a discussion about the veracity of The Inferno. “You still haven’t explained what it’s like.”

  An odd smile drifted across Sev’s mouth and his eyes seemed lit from within, filled with an unsettling combination of pleasure and satisfaction. “When I first saw Francesca, I felt a physical pull, as though we were somehow connected by a thin tenuous wire. The closer we moved in proximity, the stronger the connection between us. It kept growing until it became so powerful, I couldn’t resist it.”

  “That’s it? You felt physically attracted?”

  “Shut up, Nicolò.” There wasn’t any heat behind the demand, just amused impatience. “Do you want to know, or don’t you?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?” Though why he bothered, he couldn’t say. Horrified fascination, perhaps. Or perhaps forewarned was forearmed. The instant he felt anything similar, he’d get the hell out. Get out long before he did something as outrageous as Sev—like blackmail his future wife into first leaving their competitor and working for Dantes, and later still agreeing to a pretend engagement. Clearly The Inferno did strange things to the men and women it mated. “Something happens when you touch, doesn’t it?”

  “A shock.”

  At the reminder, Sev kneaded the palm of his right hand with the fingers of his left. It was a habitual gesture, one Nicolò had seen both his grandfather Primo and his brother Marco imitate. They all claimed it occurred as a result of The Inferno, a lingering residual from that first touch. Even Caitlyn rubbed her palm periodically.

  “A shock like static electricity?” Nicolò prompted.

  “Yes. No.” Sev grimaced. “It’s a shock, yes. But it doesn’t really hurt. It surprises. Then it seems to meld us. Complete the connection. After that, it’s done. T
here’s no going back. You’ve been matched with your soul mate and you’re permanently joined for the rest of your lives.”

  Damn. Nicolò didn’t like the sound of that. He preferred having his options open, to have a variety of choices. In his position as Dantes’ troubleshooter, he required the freedom to jump from one creative opportunity to another should the need arise. Experiencing such a total loss of control didn’t appeal to him at all. The Inferno stole that control, forcing its will on unwilling subjects. And though he didn’t mind bending on occasion, so long as it happened to be in the general direction he was headed anyway, he resented like hell the concept of being broken, stripped of power, and forced along a path not of his choosing.

  “Well, with luck The Inferno will be clever enough to leave me alone,” Nicolò said lightly. “Now tell me what you’ve discovered about Kiley O’Dell.”

  “Nothing.”

  Nicolò’s brows tugged together. “What do you mean nothing?”

  “I mean that since the question of who actually owns the fire diamond mine broke in The Snitch—”

  “Damn interfering gossip rag.”

  Momentary amusement flashed across Sev’s face. “Now you sound like Marco. Not that it matters. Apparently, the O’Dell woman reads The Snitch.” His amusement faded. “She’s come forward demanding a meeting to discuss the situation. A meeting you’re going to set up. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get any substantive background info on her. At least, not yet.”

  Nicolò stared, appalled. “You expect me to go in blind?”

  “I don’t see what choice we have.” Sev waved that aside as though an unimportant consideration. That’s what he got for making his job seem so easy. “Listen, just hear her out. Primo bought that mine fair and square. Find out why she thinks her family might still have a legitimate claim after all these years. Then stall while we put some P.s on this.” A fierceness settled over Sev’s face. “I don’t have to tell you how much we stand to lose if Kiley O’Dell’s claims prove genuine.”

  “Dantes will go under.” Nicolò didn’t phrase it as a question.

  Sev nodded. “Everything we’ve worked to rebuild over the past decade will have been for nothing. We need to find out what proof the O’Dell woman has that she’s a legitimate owner in the mine and then keep her happily oblivious while we find a way to take her down.”

  Nicolò’s expression hardened. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Nic—”

  “I understand how important this is.” It was probably the most delicate job he’d ever handled, as well as the most difficult. “I’ll find a way to keep her off balance.”

  “Tread lightly.” At Nicolò’s questioning look, Sev elaborated. “Her claim could be genuine. We don’t want to do anything to set her against us. We want an amicable resolution, not a pitched battle.”

  Nicolò shook his head. “Then she shouldn’t have started this war. Because one way or another I intend to finish it.”

  Chapter One

  Kiley O’Dell wasn’t at all what Nicolò expected.

  But then, neither did he expect the tidal wave of desire that slammed through him, rendering him deaf and blind to everything but the woman standing in the doorway of her suite at Le Premier. He saw her mouth move, but the sound refused to penetrate the roaring that filled his ears, a roaring that demanded he take this woman and make her his. To put his mark on her in every way possible. To possess her and bind her to him until neither of them could escape.

  No. He dropped his head and fought the sensation, fought for all he was worth. He flat-out refused to accept this feeling, flinching from the very real possibility that it might signify the start of The Inferno.

  No. Way. In. Hell.

  This woman spelled trouble from the top of her dainty red head to the tips of her tiny red-coated toenails. And he refused to allow trouble into his life, his bed, or his heart. No matter what it took, he’d put an end to this sensation. It couldn’t possibly be that difficult. It only required a single, simple solution. All he had to do was figure out what that solution was and The Inferno would pass him by.

  Lifting his head, he took a second to study Kiley O’Dell, using every scrap of creative skill at his disposal to search for a way out of his latest predicament. But nothing came to him and he simply stood and stared at her.

  Her name suited her. She stood no taller than a minute, with a taut, lithe figure that packed just enough curves in just the right places to tempt a man to explore every inch of that creamy white skin. She wore her hair long and it fell in heavy strawberry-blond curls to the middle of her back. She also possessed the most stunning pair of pale green eyes he’d ever seen, eyes that dominated her triangular-shaped face.

  “Mr. Dante?” she asked, clearly repeating herself. Her cultured voice contained a low, musical quality that fell easily on the ears. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Nicolò.”

  He shoved the single word from between clenched teeth. Did she have any idea how hard he struggled to act with a modicum of propriety while instinct clawed at him, urging him to snatch her up in his arms and carry her off to the nearest bedroom?

  Possibly, since a hint of wariness crept into her regard and a pulse kicked to life in the hollow of her throat, betraying her instinctive response to him. A response not all that unlike his own, if he didn’t miss his guess. A streak of color highlighted her arching cheekbones and he could almost smell the whiff of desire that perfumed the air between them. Oh, yeah, this wasn’t good.

  She recovered far swifter than he. “I’m Kiley O’Dell. Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

  Everything about her appeared quick and decisive, from the sharp once-over she gave him to the way her gaze leapt from him, to the hallway, and then over her shoulder to the spacious hotel room. He couldn’t help but wonder if that last glance was a final check to make sure she’d properly set the scene for their encounter.

  “Come on in,” she said, stepping to one side.

  She didn’t bother offering her hand, which suited him just fine. Considering the overwhelming hunger her appearance aroused it would be downright foolhardy to touch this woman. Not with The Inferno currently on the rampage, cutting a swathe of destruction through the Dante males.

  Not that he believed in The Inferno. Hell, no. He hadn’t when Primo first told the tale. Nor when Sev and Marco tried to convince him they’d both experienced it the first time they’d touched their future wives. And he damn sure didn’t intend to start believing in The Inferno now. Not even with this desperate need filling every empty space inside him with a want so huge he could barely contain it all.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Kiley tossed the question over her shoulder while she crossed the plush carpet. She moved with a hip-swinging stride that drew his gaze to her pert, rounded backside lovingly outlined by a pair of trim black slacks. He caught back a groan. Was it deliberate, or another aspect of the stage she’d set for their meeting? “I have sodas,” she continued. “Or something stronger if you feel the need.”

  Whiskey. He’d kill for a double shot of single-malt. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Do you want to talk first or get straight down to business?”

  “What’s there to talk about?”

  That had her turning around. A crooked smile tilted her mouth, giving her an almost gamine appearance. “We could take a stab at making this a friendly get-together. You know, exchange the usual pleasantries people do when they first meet.”

  Okay, he’d play along. “Like?”

  “Like . . . Tell me what you do at Dantes, Nicolò.”

  “I solve problems.”

  Laughter gleamed in those odd green eyes, turning them spring-leaf bright. “And I’m your current problem?”

  “I don’t know.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you?”

  She shrugged. “Time will tell.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and leaned her hip against the bac
k of a richly upholstered divan. She took her time, studying him at her leisure. Searching for a weakness? he couldn’t help but wonder. If so, she’d have a long, fruitless time of it. The moment stretched, thin and sharp as razor wire. She broke first.

  “It’s your turn,” she prompted gently.

  “My turn . . . what?”

  “To ask a question.” She released a tiny sigh. “That’s how this works, you see. When you’re getting to know someone, you exchange pleasant chitchat in order to ease the tension.”

  “Are you tense?”

  “You’re kidding, right? You don’t feel it?” She punctuated her questions with her hands, their movement through the air as brisk as everything else about her, yet graceful for all that. “Hell, Dante, it’s thick enough to scoop out of the air and dish up for dessert.”

  So she felt it, too. It wasn’t just his imagination. “Is that what you suggest? That we move straight to dessert?”

  “Is that your way of resolving our problems?” she countered. Heat and awareness broke from her in splashy waves, building on his own. “Do you really think you can seduce my share of the mine out from under me? Is that your creative solution to this particular problem?”

  Yes. “No.”

  “Good. I’m relieved to hear it.”

  “Because you don’t have a share of the mine.” He took a step closer to her, just to gauge her reaction. She didn’t move, but he could see the slight tautening of the muscles across her shoulders and the momentary widening of her eyes before she forced herself to relax. Gotcha. She was good at this little game she played, but he was better. “Since you don’t own any part of the mine, getting you into bed won’t make any difference to the eventual disposition of your claim.”

  To his surprise, she laughed, the sound light and unfettered. “I’m so glad we have that out of the way.”

  “Funny. It still feels like it’s right here between us.”

  It was her turn to take a step closer, to push at the electrical current sizzling between them like a live wire. “Shall we get it out of the way, Dante?” she dared. “It would be easy enough.”