by Trish Morey; Day Leclaire; Natalie Anderson; Brenda Jackson; Ann Voss Peterson
“Well, this won’t take long. We’ll just let David take the doll and our part will be over.” Gianna threw an arm around Mia’s shoulders and gave her a swift hug. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Mia admitted. “My main concern is Bebelle. Mr. Juice has assured me any number of times that she’s safe with my neighbor.”
Gianna grinned, sensing Mia felt more than a passing interest in Mr. Juice. “Well, if Juice said it, you can believe it.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks.” She wandered over to the couch where the Nancy doll perched and glanced over her shoulder at Mia. “May I?”
“Oh, sure. Help yourself.”
“How did you end up with her, anyway?”
Mia shrugged. “It was shortly after my husband died. Bebelle just cried and cried she missed her daddy so bad. One day this strange child came up to her and just put that Nancy doll right in my little girl’s arms. Said Bebelle needed it more than she did. Said it was a magical doll and would bring her happiness. And once it did, she should give it away to someone else in need.” Mia turned her great, dark eyes on Gianna. “You think she’s right? You think it’ll bring my Bebelle happiness?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I think it will.”
Gianna picked up the doll just as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. She stiffened, knowing full well who they’d find there.
Constantine tried Gianna’s cell phone for the umpteenth time since flagging down the taxi. The cabbie drove as fast as he dared, the sizable tip thrown his way aiding in breaking a few speeding laws. That didn’t change the fact that when he got his hands on his future wife—not to mention his future brothers-in-law—there would be hell to pay. He tried Luc’s number again. Juice. Nothing from any of them.
He allowed fury to triumph over panic. It was the only way he could keep from going insane. Hadn’t they discussed her impulsiveness at the lake? Hadn’t he explained in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t a quality he appreciated? Now he understood where it came from. It must be a genetic anomaly that ran down the entire Dante line. Though how that explained Juice, he couldn’t say. Maybe it rubbed off with prolonged association.
“This is the street,” the cabdriver said, pointing. “But the cops have it blocked. Are we too late, do you think?”
Constantine must have replied in Italian because the driver frowned in confusion. He fought to find the appropriate words in English, couldn’t come up with them. Instead he peeled off a number of notes and tossed them in the driver’s direction. He was out of the car in a flash.
Please, God, no. Not Gianna. He couldn’t survive without Gianna. She was his mate. His heart. His life. He loved her more than he thought it possible to love anyone. If something had happened to her… He picked up his speed.
The police stopped him a few houses before the address Gianna had given him. It took endless minutes to make himself understood, to find the appropriate words in the appropriate language to convince them that he belonged on the other side of their blockade. That his future wife was involved. That she needed him, and only him.
Someone down the line waved him through and he took off at a swift jog. Luc stood talking to a police officer. Gianna was nowhere to be seen. He charged toward her brother and would have taken him down if his bride-to-be hadn’t chosen that moment to come flying out of the house and straight into his arms.
“Constantine!” She wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “You’ll never believe what happened.”
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” he growled, snatching her close and enclosing her in a hold she wouldn’t soon escape. “I’m going to knock your brother on his ass.”
“I’d really rather you wouldn’t. Listen to me.” She caught his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. “I said listen to me, Constantine. They caught David. He’s in police custody. I don’t think he’s going to get out of this one, thanks to Brimstone.”
Luc approached, a huge grin on his face. “You should have been here, Romano.” He slapped Constantine on his back. “You could have helped us take d’Angelo down.”
“Let go of me, Gianna,” Constantine demanded.
She clung tighter. “Not if you plan on hitting my brother.”
“I said, let go of me.”
Luc’s attention switched from one to the other, a frown forming between his brows. “I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”
“What’s the…” It took Constantine a moment to recover his breath enough to speak. He seized Gianna around the waist and set her to one side. “How would you like my putting Téa in the sort of danger you’ve put Gianna in? What would you do to the man who used her in such a fashion and never discussed it with you first?”
Luc froze. For a split second, his gaze landed on Gianna then bounced off again. “You’re absolutely right, Constantine. I apologize. I was so anxious to get my hands on d’Angelo that I didn’t even think about the risk my sister was taking. I guess I’m so used to the security business it never occurred to me that she’d be in any danger.”
Constantine closed his eyes, his fury deflating. “You thought I knew,” he said to Luc.
Gianna’s brother winced and shot him a look of intense sympathy. “Yeah, sorry. Should have known better. Gia has seven older brothers and cousins, all of whom set a horrible example for her. There’s not a trick she hasn’t learned.”
“I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”
“Still, I should have spoken directly to you about it.”
“Are you very angry?” Gianna had the nerve to ask.
“Furious.” Constantine spared her a brief, speaking glance. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now I have some very confused businessmen waiting for me.”
“I’ve already given my statement to the police.” She checked with Luc, who nodded. “I can leave now, if you’d like.”
If he’d like? Words fought for release, none of them fit to be aired. “I don’t like,” he said gently. “I insist.”
She cleared her throat, perhaps becoming aware of the extent of his anger for the first time. “Great.” She plastered a cheerful smile on her face and glanced around. “So, how do we get there?”
It was only then that Constantine realized he’d paid off the cab. Luc jumped in and waved Juice over, who waited on the tiny front stoop of the Mereaux house, hovering protectively over the slender woman standing beside him. “You can use our rental while we go to the police station and finalize everything.”
Luc had chosen a nondescript sedan and Constantine helped Gianna into the car. He managed to drive a full dozen blocks before he couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled over. His hands clenched around the steering wheel. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
Gianna sighed. “I’m sorry, Constantine. I knew if I told you what we planned, you wouldn’t agree.”
“Wouldn’t agree?” he repeated. He swiveled in his seat to face her. “Have you lost your mind? Of course I wouldn’t have agreed. I’d never do anything to put you in jeopardy or allowed you anywhere near d’Angelo, especially after what he did to you last time.”
A stubborn look settled on her face. “Don’t you see? I had to face him the same way I had to face the lake. Luc and Juice wouldn’t have let anything happen to me. And the police were alerted in advance. They had officers in the area.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her jade gaze holding a combination of apology and determination. “I did it, Constantine. I looked him right in the eyes and realized what a contemptible little worm he is.”
Constantine fought to temper his anger, to consider the situation from her point of view. “I can’t argue with your description. I can and do argue with how you went about it. Did you give a single thought to my take on all this? To how I’d react or my opinion? We’re supposed to be a team, Gianna.”
She winced. “You’re right and I am sorry. I promise I won’t keep anything from you in the future. Not that
anything like this will ever happen again.”
“No, it won’t, as I intend to make very clear to each and every one of your relatives.” He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her close and held her. “Were you very afraid?”
“Not even a little.” She tilted her head back and grinned. “Okay, maybe a little, but it was only a very little.”
“D’Angelo followed you to the Mereaux residence?”
“More or less. He arrived a few minutes after I did.”
“He didn’t harm you or the Mereaux woman?”
“No. Mia handled it like a trouper. He came in and demanded the doll. Luc had told us what to say so it would be a clear-cut case of theft.” Her brow wrinkled. “Or is it burglary?” She shrugged. “No matter. They taped every last word. Then David ripped open the poor doll and removed Brimstone. Lord, it was huge. And because it’s worth so much, taking it makes it a far more serious crime. Somehow I don’t think he’s going to get out of this one as easily as he’s gotten out of so many of his other problems.”
“He won’t be getting out of those, either. He and his father are under investigation for embezzlement.”
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Gianna said cheerfully.
Constantine checked his watch. “Moretti should be arriving shortly. I need to get back to the Diamondt building.”
“I gather I’m coming with you?” she asked.
He shot her a hard look. “You, piccola, will not be out of my sight for the rest of our stay in Seattle.”
She sighed. “Sort of thought you might say that.”
Gianna and Constantine arrived at the Diamondt building shortly after four. To her intense surprise, the first person she saw when she entered the foyer was her oldest cousin, Sev. She made a beeline for him.
“Severo Dante, what on earth are you doing here?” she demanded.
He jerked at her question and swept around to confront her. She checked her forward momentum at the last instant, only just preventing herself from giving the man a hug.
He was as tall as Sev—two or three inches over six feet—with hair every bit as black. He also possessed the same intense golden eyes as both her cousin and her grandfather, Primo. His features were equally hard, cut in strong, less-than-handsome lines, but all the more powerful because of it. He’d dressed in a black suit, one that emphasized his broad shoulders and strong, muscular legs, and cloaked him in darkness.
Unable to help herself, she fell back a step, thoroughly intimidated. “I’m sorry. I thought you were my cousin.” She glanced over her shoulder, searching for Constantine, before offering her hand with a hesitant smile. “I don’t suppose you have any Dante relatives in your background? You could pass for one of my family without any problem at all. The resemblance is really quite amazing.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. Then in a voice as deep and black as his appearance, he asked, “Who are you?”
Her hand dropped slowly to her side. “I’m Gianna Dante. Constantine Romano is my fiancé,” she explained stiffly.
His eyes narrowed in open displeasure. To her extreme relief, she felt the reassuring pressure of Constantine’s hands on her shoulder. “Is there a problem?”
Moretti hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen here. Send the contract,” he said, his gaze never shifting from Gianna. And with that, he turned and left, flowing from the building like black fog.
“What the hell was that about?” Constantine demanded.
“I think I remember where I heard the name Moretti before,” Gianna murmured, stricken. “That’s the name of the woman my uncle Dominic had an affair with. The woman he was leaving Aunt Laura for. Oh, Constantine. I think maybe Uncle Dominic did more than have an affair with her. A lot more.”
Ten
Constantine stared after Gabe Moretti in disbelief. “You think he’s a Dante? Seriously?”
“I don’t know.” Gianna gnawed on her lower lip. “You saw him. Don’t you think he could have passed for Sev’s twin brother?”
“Don’t jump to any rash conclusions,” Constantine warned. “You’re far too good at that.”
She swiveled to face him, planting her hands on her shapely hips. “Tell me you’re not going to rub that in my face for the rest of our lives.”
The time had come to deal with her impulsiveness once and for all. He approached and went toe-to-toe with her. “I won’t rub it in your face, if you promise not to act rashly.”
She smiled sweetly. “I assume that means you want prior approval on every decision I make. How deliciously caveman of you.” She swept her hand downward to indicate her pantsuit. “Would you care to approve my clothes, for instance? My shoes? What about my hair?”
“That’s not what I mean and you damn well know it,” he growled. “Even Luc acknowledged that I should have been informed of what you had planned for today. You admitted that the only reason you didn’t was that you knew I would object. So don’t act as though I’m coming on like some sort of Neanderthal.” He leaned in. “Imagine if the situation had been reversed and I’d been the one in that house. If Juice and your brothers had kept our plan from you. Admit it. You would have been furious.”
For an instant, he thought she’d argue the point. Then she blew out a sigh and nodded. “No, you’re right. I should have told you, just as I would have expected you to tell me.”
A smile built across his face. It was times like this that she blew him away. Her fairness. The frank way she admitted her mistakes. They were just a few of the qualities he adored about her. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still sort of new at this whole team thing we have going,” she admitted.
“As am I.” He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her up for a slow kiss. “Look on the bright side. D’Angelo is in jail and unlikely to get out anytime soon. I was just awarded a huge contract. And you may have a new cousin.”
She grimaced. “I’m not sure there’s a bright side to your last point.”
“Time will tell.” He released her. “Now that we’re a team, how do you suggest we handle the possibility?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Should you tell Primo?”
“Tell him that his son may have fathered a child out of wedlock?” She shuddered. “Scary thought.”
“Do you want to think about it for a while?”
Her eyebrows shot skyward. “What? Not act impulsively for once? Me?”
He smothered a smile. “I know it’ll be a challenge.”
“In this case, not so much.” She frowned unhappily. “To be honest, I would like to think about it for a while.”
Constantine glanced again at the exit Gabe Moretti had taken. “I have a feeling you won’t be the only one.”
The next several weeks passed with lightning speed. Gianna should have been blissfully happy, but a single shadow continued to hang over her. Not once in all the time she’d been with Constantine had he said those vital three words she’d shared with him the night they’d made love for the first time: I love you. He wanted her. No question there. The Inferno burned and connected them in ways that suggested love and a lifelong commitment. But real love? Natural love? Non-Inferno influenced love?
She just couldn’t be certain.
How much of his desire and commitment to marry her were based on The Inferno and feeling honor-bound to marry her because they’d made love? And how much of it was based on true feeling? It was definitely a conversation they needed to have before the wedding.
But as the days and weeks passed, Gianna couldn’t figure out a way to discuss the problem with him. Or perhaps she couldn’t find the right words because, despite facing all of her other fears, she couldn’t bring herself to face this one. She couldn’t bear the idea of his admitting to her that he didn’t love her, that it was all due to The Inferno.
If that’s what he believed, she’d be forced to cancel their wedding, somethin
g her entire family—not to mention Constantine—would oppose. Oppose? She laughed without humor. She knew her family. And though they were the most loving and generous people she’d ever known, they wouldn’t hesitate to drag her to the altar and find a priest who’d marry them regardless of whether or not she said “I do.” Considering she and Constantine had experienced The Inferno, they wouldn’t give her any other choice. If they knew the two of them had slept together… Well, forget it. The wedding would happen faster than the sizzle of The Inferno.
And still the days passed.
The night before the wedding, Primo threw a party in their honor. “I think it was to keep us from stealing away your fiancé and debauching him,” Rafe informed Gianna with a wink.
She laughed. “No bachelor’s party?”
“We might try to sneak him off into a corner and debauch him there. Maybe Primo won’t notice.”
“Doubtful. Primo notices everything and knows everything.”
Though there was one thing he didn’t know. She hadn’t told him about Gabe Moretti, yet. Both she and Constantine had made some subtle inquiries after their return from Seattle. At least, she hoped they’d been subtle. Eventually, they’d discovered that Gabe Moretti was indeed the son of Cara Moretti. And though that fact alone didn’t prove Dominic Dante was his father, the family resemblance suggested that possibility. Possibility? Probability. After discussing it with Constantine a final time, she’d decided to turn the entire matter over to her grandfather.
She found him where she often did, in the kitchen. He’d chased off all his helpers and she knew better than to offer her assistance. In this family, the kitchen was her grandfather’s domain. “So, chiacchierona. Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked, his trademark cigar clamped between his teeth.
She hesitated, driven to answer honestly. “A little.”
Her grandfather sampled his sauce, eyeing her over the steaming ladle. “And what part makes you a little nervous?”
“Constantine and I haven’t known each other very long.”
