Forever Dante: Lucia (The Dante Dynasty Series: Book #11): The Dante Inferno

by Day Leclaire

  For a moment, she thought he’d reject her. Make some excuse about her being too fragile or in a compromised emotional state. Granted, there might be a fragment of truth to both of those points. Still, it didn’t change one key factor.

  The Inferno burned like a white-hot fire, connecting them in ways she couldn’t explain. She needed him. Needed him near. Needed him holding her. Needed him deep inside her, completing the connection between them.

  Without a word, he ushered her to the master bedroom. For a moment, she thought he’d tumble her onto the bed. Instead, he shoved open a set of French doors leading onto a private balcony that cantilevered over the lake. She gasped at the chilly wind sweeping off the lake.

  “Why did you bring us out here?”

  He pointed to a spot behind her and she turned to discover a huge hot tub taking up a full third of the balcony. He flipped back the cover and touched a few buttons. Soft lights flickered to life and bubbles churned.

  “Strip,” he ordered.

  She stared in disbelief, turning her face skyward. Snow dotted her skin, the icy flakes melting as fast as they hit. “But, it’s snowing. It’s freezing.”

  “Trust me. I’ll keep you warm.” He proceeded to yank off his clothes, lifting an eyebrow in her direction. In no time, he stood naked in front of her, except for a gold chain he wore around his neck. A small ring, clearly a woman’s, hung from it, the sharp glitter of diamonds catching her eye. “Come on, strip. Or would you like me to do it for you?”

  She hesitated for another ten seconds, then swiftly undressed. The second the last piece of clothing hit the snow-covered planks of the balcony, Ty helped her up the slippery steps and into the blissful warmth of the hot tub. And then he helped her into the blissful warmth of his embrace.

  His mouth closed over hers, his tongue stroking across the seam of her lips. She immediately opened to him, reveling in the power of his kiss. God, she could kiss him all day long and not get enough. He knew just how to move his lips, the perfect amount of pressure, the exact right angle. Aggressive, but not too aggressive. Gentle, but not too gentle. Just sexy as hell.

  He cupped her hips, lifting her, then slid her inch by inch onto his erection, stretching and filling her. She groaned, heat surrounding her. Over her. In her. Through her. It made a sharp contrast to the bitter cold swirling across her face and shoulders.

  She burrowed against him, the ring hanging from his chain pressing between her breasts. Unable to resist, she kissed a path along the scar he’d received in the train wreck he’d mentioned the first time they’d been together. She hated the thought of his suffering so badly when only a child. Seemed they’d both suffered scars as children, both internal and external.

  Then she began to rock, slowly at first, driving them gradually upward. “Ty, you have no idea,” she whispered.

  “I have every idea.”

  “I never realized sex could be this good.” She laughed and for some reason a hint of tears filtered through the sound. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, either.” He pumped his hips harder and she moved in tempo with the quicker pace. “I don’t want to ever get enough.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but I swear it’s The Inferno. It’s done something to us. I never wanted a man the way I want you. Never even been tempted.”

  “Never?”

  He didn’t mention Andrew’s name, and yet she could feel her ex-husband’s ghost like a foul breeze between them. A ghost she needed to banish. She cupped his face and gave him a direct look. “I swear to you, I’ve never experienced anything close to what I’m experiencing with you. Not with him. Not with anyone. What I feel when I’m with you defies comparison. It’s like spending a lifetime eating foods without flavor or spice or substance and then tasting the real thing.”

  “In that case, you’ve become my favorite flavor.”

  His arms tightened around her, holding them hip to hip, her breasts sliding across his chest, mouth and lips colliding and clinging. She shuddered, close, so very close. He caught her hands in his, palm to palm. Inferno to Inferno. The smoldering blaze exploded to life. And then he shifted in just the perfect way, a hard thrust of his hips, sending her careening into oblivion. She went over with a sharp cry and an instant later, he exploded inside of her, filling her.

  It took endless minutes to catch her breath. Even longer for her brain to come back online. “I think I’ve melted,” she confessed. “My arms and legs aren’t working anymore.”

  He released her hands and tucked her against him, protecting her from the cold. “They don’t need to work. Not yet.” He looked down at her and gave her a swift, tender kiss. “Feel better now?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Do you want to talk about him?”

  Andrew. So, she hadn’t imagined his ghost attempting to come between them. “This once and then he’s not worth talking about ever again.”

  He wrapped her up tight, his hold strong and reassuring. “Tell me and then let it go.”

  “You already know the end. In retrospect, the beginning is just sad. I mentioned that my father never lived up to his promises. I’d spent years imagining him arriving on our doorstep, marrying my mother, being a real father to me and Gabe. I pretended I was a modern-day Cinderella. He’d gather us up and sweep us away from our miserable little apartment. We’d become Dantes and live in a palace.”

  “Naturally, none of that happened.”

  “Naturally. That last time, he showed up when I was fifteen and made endless promises. It was every one of my dreams come true. Then he disappeared. Again. We later learned he’d been killed in a sailing accident. But by then, he’d practically destroyed my family. My mother was never the same. And Gabe . . .” She shrugged. “Gabe became hard and cynical.”

  “What about you?”

  She looked back at the girl she’d been, filled with pity. “I, on the other hand, truly believed my father would fulfill all of my dreams. I lived on that expectation for two whole years. And then, just as I was on the verge of admitting I’d never have a fairy tale life, Andrew showed up.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “I went to a friend’s party.” She gave an awkward laugh. “A drinking party. If my mom or Gabe had known, they’d have killed me, especially since I was only seventeen and a senior in high school. Andrew was there.”

  “I assume he was older?”

  “Much. He swept me off my feet. I thought I’d finally found my knight in shining armor. Instead, I’d walked right up to a predator and asked him to use and abuse me.”

  Ty swore, the word vicious. “I wish I’d been there to protect you from him.”

  “Yeah, well, not even Gabe could protect me. Today, I’d instantly recognize him for what he was. Back then?” She shook her head, filled with empathy and sorrow for the girl she’d been. “I was an idiot.”

  “You were young and looking for the father you never had.” The comment didn’t contain an ounce of censure or blame.

  “Yeah.” She lifted her face to the snowy sky, welcoming the cold wetness that cascaded down on her. “He played all the right angles. Keeping our relationship a secret from my mother and Gabe. Playing the part of Prince Charming. Basically, grooming me, though I was hardly a child.”

  He pulled her tight against his chest and simply held her. “At seventeen, you were still a child.”

  “And then I made a fatal mistake. I told him about a fabulous Dante necklace that my father had given my mother on his last visit. It had been one she’d designed for the company years before when she and Dominic first met. It even had a name, Heart’s Desire. It was worth a fortune. The day I turned eighteen, he convinced me to marry him. The next day we left for New Jersey.”

  “And it went downhill from there.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes. I’m not sure why he insisted we get married, other than he figured he’d have a better opportunity to get his hands on
the necklace.”

  “He’d also have more rights over you if you married. That way you’d be tied to him in ways that would be harder to break. And if you inherited the necklace during your marriage, he’d be in the perfect position to claim a portion of it.”

  It made sense. She forced herself to finish the story as quickly as possible. “The beatings started not long after that. I had no money. No cell phone. Andrew rarely worked. I’m not quite sure where his money came from. Nothing legal, that’s for sure. He’d talk about the necklace periodically, tell me to ask my mother to sell it so we could live like royalty. When I refused—” She broke off abruptly. “Let’s just say, it got bad.”

  Ty hugged her tight. “You’re safe now. Andrew is dead and can never hurt you again. And soon his brother will be found and dumped back in prison where he belongs.”

  She curled against him, kissing the dampness from his broad shoulders. “Do you think Andrew told Orrin about the necklace? Maybe that’s why he came after me.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “He can’t know we sold it to pay medical bills when Mom became sick.”

  He stilled. “Cancer?”

  She shook her head, wrapping her arms around him. “No, no. It was a really virulent strain of pneumonia. I think after Dominic died, she just gave up and didn’t want to fight anymore.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Twenty.” She tipped her head back. “I survived just fine. Unlike you, I had Gabe.”

  “I look forward to getting to know him better.”

  He’d said that before and the words gave her a surge of hope. If this were just a casual fling or if he still felt the way he had when he’d ended things between them after their first night together, he wouldn’t have said that. “It’s getting late.”

  “And you’re starting to shiver.” He stood, dragging her to her feet. “Go on inside and hop in the shower. I’ll grab our clothes and join you in a minute.”

  Unlike their last shower together, they didn’t linger. A quick wash and then they bundled up into warm clothing. “This seems like the perfect evening for a fire.” She grinned up at him from beneath the towel covering her hair and half her face. “I don’t suppose you know how to start one?”

  “As a matter of fact . . .”

  “Score! I’ll trade you a hot, roaring fire for a hot, somewhat roaring dinner.”

  “You’re on.” He glanced down at his hand with a frown, rubbing at his palm. The instant she noticed, he balled his hands into fists.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “What’s wrong with your hand, Ty?”

  “Nothing.”

  Lucia didn’t believe him for a nanosecond. “Bull. You wouldn’t have rubbed it unless something was bothering you.” She held out her hand. “Show me. Is it The Inferno? Is it burning? Itching?”

  He swore beneath is breath. “Not that again. I thought we’d been through this already. There’s no such thing as an Inferno.”

  “Try telling the Dantes. Now show me your hand.” He released a long drawn out sigh, the sound so typically “exasperated male” that she almost laughed. He held out his left hand. “Nice try, Masterson. The other hand, please.”

  “It’s just a bruise or a stain or something.” He showed her the palm of his right hand. Sure enough, a reddish-purple mark discolored the very center. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s actually rather elegant.” She looked closer. “Sort of a curly swirl. It looks a bit like a stylistic half-moon.”

  “Great. Just what I need. An elegant, swirly half-moon on my palm. Juice will never let me live it down.”

  She took his hand in hers, gently running her thumb across the mark. “Does it hurt? Itch? Burn?”

  “No. No. No.”

  She eyed him sharply. “Yeah, but there’s something. What?”

  He hesitated, then confessed, “It tingles when you touch it.”

  Her brows drew together. “Just when I touch it, or when you touch it, too?”

  He drew his hand back and jabbed at the mark. “Huh. Just when you touch it.” He cocked his head to one side. “Do it again.”

  She touched it with her index finger. “Shit,” he muttered. “That’s bizarre. And before you say it, it’s not The Inferno.”

  “How do you know?”

  He scowled. “Do the Dantes have marks on their palms?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think so. But then you didn’t feel that weird spark when we first touched. Maybe you got this, instead.”

  “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”

  “Really?” She beamed at him. “I’m crazy about you, too.”

  “Crazy about me, or just crazy?”

  Her smile turned to a grimace. “Hey, play nice. I have it on excellent authority that none of my Dante siblings or Dante cousins believed in The Inferno until it happened to them. If you ask them now, they’d all tell you it’s real. Every last one. Until I met you, I was the only one who hadn’t experienced it.”

  “You do realize I’m still not buying any of this.” He hesitated, his tone softening. “I’m just afraid you’re looking for another fairy tale. Another Prince Charming. And I’m definitely not him.”

  She stepped back as though slapped. “I gave up on fairy tales the day Andrew first hit me,” she bit out. “I’m not interested in Prince Charming. I don’t want pretend. I want reality.”

  “And The Inferno is your idea of reality?”

  She struggled to find the appropriate words to convince him. Or at least, gain some sort of acceptance. “When we first shook hands, it was as though I’d touched a livewire. Before that happened, if someone asked if The Inferno was real, I’d have said no. The Inferno is just a sweet, romantic myth.”

  “It is just a sweet, romantic myth, honey.”

  She met his cynical look with an unflinching scowl that had most men backing away. To her amusement he didn’t back away. He took a step closer, invading her space. “Listen, my brother Gabe is the most cynical and pragmatic man I know and even he believes in it. Does Sev strike you as someone prone to an overactive imagination? Or someone who believes in fairy tales? Does Luc? They all swear it’s real. There are eleven Dante couples who would tell you it exists. We’d be the twelfth. The only one who didn’t marry their Inferno mate was my father.”

  Ty folded his arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow with a sardonic smile. “And it killed him?”

  She released a groan of exasperation. “No, I’m not saying that at all. I am saying he chose to marry for money instead of love and his marriage ended in utter disaster.” She mimicked his stance and thrust her chin out for good measure. “Even before I saw you, I sensed you. It was the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  He stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

  She tucked her towel more firmly around her, avoiding his gaze, wishing she’d never mentioned it. If he thought her crazy before, this would confirm it. “I heard a voice,” she muttered.

  “Come again?”

  She lifted her head and glared at him. “I heard a voice, okay?”

  To her surprise, he didn’t dismiss her comment, let alone ridicule her. “What did the voice say?” he shocked her by asking.

  Why would he ask that instead of dismissing the claim out of hand? Embarrassed heat burned a path across her cheekbones. He was really going to make her say the words? Okay, fine. She screwed her eyes closed and spoke fast to get it over with. “It said, He’s here. Take him. Make him yours. I know it sounds crazy—”

  “Sounds crazy?” he interrupted. “Try is crazy.” He waited a beat, then added, “And what’s crazier is that I heard the exact same thing. Maybe the words were a little different, but close enough.”

  Her eyes popped open and her jaw dropped. “You. Are. Kidding. Me.”

  “I wish I were. Ever since then, I can tell when you’re close. It’s like I’m sensing you on some level.” He turned on his heel in clear dismissal and h
eaded for the bedroom.

  Lucia followed right behind. “You can’t just leave it there, Ty. I can tell there’s more.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, his features set in grim lines. “It’s how I knew you were in the ladies’ room right before the gunmen hit the gala. Or more precisely, which ladies’ room.”

  His words impacted like a shot to the solar plexus. “You’ve felt all that and kept it from me all this time? And you have the nerve to say you still don’t believe in The Inferno?”

  He yanked on jeans, the ring on his chain swinging wildly. No boxers or shorts. Hmm. Apparently, he’d decided to go commando. Not that she minded. She might try it herself. It would sure make it faster and easier to get naked.

  “That sort of stuff doesn’t exist,” he stated in no uncertain terms.

  “Right. So, we’re just imagining our connection, the voices, the little GPS feature that allows us to find each other?”

  “Yup, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “Got it.” She rubbed at her palm, the itch more intense than ever before. She glanced at it with an irritated frown. Then her eyes widened. “Well, I have a pretty fancy mark here that says it does exist.”

  His head jerked around. “What?”

  She held up her hand, palm outward. “Seems you’re not the only one with a cute little half-moon tattoo in the center of your palm. I’ve got its mate.”

  He reached her in two swift strides, snatching up her hand and staring at the mark. He compared it to his own. “Son of a bitch. They match.”

  “What do you say now, Inferno Mate?” If her tone sounded a tad smug, she decided it was a reasonable enough reaction. “Still believe there’s no such thing?”

  He shook his head. “There has to be a reasonable explanation.”

  She snapped her fingers. “And I know what it is.”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “It’s The Half-Moon, first cousin to The Inferno.”

  He winced. “Okay, can we table this for the time being?”

  “Sure,” she said brightly. Wise woman that she was, she sensed she’d scored enough points to let it drop. “Why don’t I poke around the refrigerator and see if I can’t find something to throw together for dinner.”