“Even in Florence?”
“It’s easier there,” he conceded. “My relatives are more forgiving, but only up to a point.”
“And what point is that?”
“They respect me and my talent. But they’ll never allow their customers to know I’m the one who crafted their jewelry. That person must have an impeccable reputation so the elite of Florence will trust and favor us with their patronage.”
She stared in distress. “They told you this?”
He nodded. “Before I left for Santa Lucia. I was told that while I may design and fashion Dante jewelry, I must give my cousin Donato credit for every piece I create, including your engagement ring.”
“You sound so matter-of-fact about it,” she marveled. “Aren’t you angry?”
“Not angry.” He hesitated, thinking about the letter from San Francisco offering him the opportunity for a new life, and chose his words with care. “Determined. I’m determined to change my circumstances.”
She frowned over his words. “I never considered the possibility of changing my circumstances. I’ve always accepted the direction I’ve been told to take, trusting my parents to know what’s best for me.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, considering such a wondrous possibility. “It will be incredibly difficult to pick a different path at this point.”
“Yes, it will,” he limited himself to saying.
He refused to force her decision, no matter how desperately he might wish to. It was her life. And though he believed they belonged together, were meant for one another, the final choice had to be hers. Forging a new life in a new country wouldn’t be easy—especially since he hadn’t even told her about the possibility of moving to America. They both needed to be totally committed to each other and to whatever direction they took from this point on.
Rom brushed her hair from her face and feathered a kiss across her mouth. Her lips clung and parted beneath his with a natural eagerness that humbled him. He anticipated reticence, especially after the incident with Tito. Instead, he encountered unstinting generosity. He took it slow, loath to do anything to alarm or panic her. Not that she acted the least alarmed or panicked. In fact, she wriggled closer with unmistakable eagerness and returned his kisses with a sweet intensity that threatened his sanity.
Unable to resist, he swept aside the ruined pieces of her bodice to uncover the softness within. He wanted to erase all memory of Tito’s touch. To replace it with his own. To exchange misery for joy. She had the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen, round and plump and succulent as a ripe peach, tipped with nipples as tasty as the sweetest spring berries. She tilted her head back so her hair rained across her shoulders to the ground, surrounding them in a carpet of curls.
At the first touch of his mouth, Julietta sighed in pleasure. Her hands forked into his hair, and she held him close. She smelled so amazing, like a flower whose scent drove him wild, its petals softer than anything he’d ever felt before. She shifted against him, and he soothed her with a gentle stroke to her waist and hip. Her dress rode high on her legs, and he allowed his fingertips to drift across skin like satin. Her thighs parted ever so slightly, and he followed the warmth to its core.
Soft cotton covered her, and that stopped him. There was something so innocent about cotton, as innocent as the woman he held. Nonno’s warning returned, along with the memory of all his mother had suffered as a result of allowing The Inferno to sweep aside common sense and reason. Gently, he smoothed her dress over her legs and tugged the edges of her bodice together to cover her breasts.
“I promised I wouldn’t dishonor you, and yet, that’s what I’m on the verge of doing.” He shifted her to one side in order to give them both some breathing space. The torn neckline of her dress gaped, exposing the fragile length of her collarbone and the sweet curve of her breast. “We need to stop now before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late.” Serena stepped from shadow into moonlight. “Get away from my sister, you bastard. Before I scream the place down.”
Chapter Five
“Serena!” Julietta shot to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Attempting to track you down before anyone notices you’re missing. And what do I find?” She pointed an accusing finger in Rom’s direction. “You, cheating on Tito with this one.”
Julietta held out a beseeching hand. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Resentment crept into Serena’s voice, taking on a darkness that matched the shadow-draped night. “Tito is offering you the perfect life. He’s handsome. Wealthy. He’ll take care of our family. Che ti passa per la testa? What’s the matter with you? What more could you possibly want?”
“Love,” Julietta instantly replied.
Serena groaned. “Ma va! You really have lost your mind.”
“Is it crazy to want a man who loves me?” She sensed Rom’s approach, providing a powerful bulwark at her back. She leaned against his strength, fumbling to hold her ripped dress in place. “I don’t love Tito, any more than he loves me. I love Rom.”
Serena frowned. “What happened to your dress?” She gasped, her gaze shifting to Rom, outrage adding fuel to her fury. “Did he do that to you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, he didn’t.”
“I don’t believe you. He was trying to take advantage of you. To… to—”
“It was Tito,” Julietta interrupted, her voice unnaturally loud within the quiet confines of the orange grove. “Tito tried to take advantage of me. Tito ripped my dress.”
Serena shook her head. “No. No, he wouldn’t do that.”
“Not deliberately,” she conceded. “If I hadn’t fought him, my dress wouldn’t have gotten ripped, so I guess it wasn’t totally his fault.”
“So, that’s what Tito meant when—” Serena broke off, and Julietta couldn’t help but wonder what she’d intended to say. She gestured toward Rom. “And this one? Don’t pretend you weren’t cheating on Tito with him. I saw enough to know better.”
Rom stepped in at that point, taking charge with a natural authority. “This isn’t the time to discuss it. Serena, please tell everyone Julietta isn’t feeling well and has left. I’ll make sure your sister gets safely home.”
Serena folded her arms across her chest. “I think I’d better take my sister home while you tell everyone we’ve left.”
Julietta shook her head. “No.” She didn’t often stand up to her older sister. She tended to be the one who went along with others’ needs and desires, the easygoing sister. Until Rom. Until The Inferno had struck. Until she’d found something worth the fight. Now she refused to bend. Now she’d stand strong. “Rom will take me. Please offer my apologies to everyone.”
Without another word, she slipped her hand in Rom’s and headed in the direction of the Rossis’ cottage. “You’re making a mistake,” Serena called after her.
“It’s my mistake to make,” she whispered, even though her sister couldn’t hear.
But Rom did. “Is it a mistake?”
She glanced down at their joined hands and shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like one.”
“Will she tell the others?”
Julietta shrugged. “I hope not. But it’s a possibility. There’s…” She chose her words with care. “There’s a lot at stake, and she might feel the family’s well-being is more important than keeping our secret.”
“I’d rather be up front about it. Tell our families and Tito the truth.”
“And what do you think will happen if we do?” she argued. “My family will lock me away until the wedding. Yours will insist you return to Florence. And your friendship with Tito will be destroyed.”
“My friendship with Tito was destroyed the moment I saw you. The instant I touched you.”
She didn’t debate the point. How could she when he spoke the truth? “How is it possible that one man’s touch can be so wrong and another’s so perfect?”
Rom paused withi
n sight of the Rossi cottage and pulled Julietta into a loose embrace. “If it had been my choice, I’d never have fallen in love with you.” His statement held a touch of apology. “You’re my best friend’s fiancée.”
“It could have been worse,” she insisted quietly. “I could have already been married to Tito. Or what if I’d never become engaged to him at all? We’re from different worlds. My village is several hours away from yours. If not for my engagement, we might never have met.”
“Perhaps that’s part of The Inferno’s blessing. It found a way to bring us together when we’d never have met under normal circumstances.”
Julietta frowned. “This Inferno… It’s the reason I hated Tito kissing me, when it never bothered me before. That’s why I fought him, isn’t it?”
“Probably.” He traced the edge of her torn dress, from her collarbone to the upper curve of her breast. “You seem so fragile. So vulnerable. I don’t dare touch you again, not even to reassure you.”
Julietta smiled. “I’m not all that fragile. I promise I won’t break. But I don’t dare touch you, either. I’m not strong enough to stop.”
“You realize you can’t go through with this marriage, don’t you?”
“I thought I could, until…” She shuddered. “Dio mi perdoni, what am I going to do? It will destroy my family if I refuse to marry Tito.”
“Your family will survive. Either Tito will buy the vineyard flat out, or he’ll choose one of your other sisters instead.” He attempted to joke. “Maybe no one’s bothered to tell you, but arranged marriages are a thing of the past.”
Her laugh held more pain than amusement. “Not in Santa Lucia. Not in my village, either. And not when it comes to the Bianchi family.” She spoke with difficulty. “My parents have always done everything within their power to keep my family safe, even during the war when safety had more to do with luck than anything else. Is it any wonder I trust them to make wise decisions on my behalf?”
“Do they not allow their daughters to marry for love?” he asked gently.
“Yes, but only if love coincides with more practical concerns.”
Rom simply nodded. “My friends in Florence might laugh at the old-fashioned, rustic ways of village life. But certain traditions are slow to change. This is one of them.” He fell silent for a moment, then asked, “Even if Tito weren’t in the picture, they’d never agree to a marriage between us, would they?”
She hesitated for a mere second before shaking her head, not bothering to prevaricate. Rom wouldn’t appreciate her giving him anything but the straight, unvarnished truth. “No.”
“Because I’m a bastard.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He took her hand in his and allowed their palms to lock together. “Not to mention the Dante family’s curse. They probably wouldn’t appreciate dealing with that, any more than you do.”
She looked at him with undisguised curiosity, combined with a hint of compassion. “Do you really consider The Inferno a curse rather than a blessing?”
He shrugged. “I suppose it’s two sides of the same coin. It just depends which side comes up when the coin is flipped. Whatever this is, it hasn’t given you any more of a choice than your parents insisting you marry Tito. The Inferno drives you into my arms, whereas your parents force you to the altar to wed a man you don’t love. You didn’t ask for this marriage or for The Inferno. And if you had, you probably wouldn’t have agreed to either one.”
“I’m not sure.” Her brows drew together, and her gaze turned thoughtful. “Do all Dantes experience The Inferno? Even your relatives in Florence?”
“My grandfather’s cousins are a different branch of the Dante tree. So, their Inferno is experienced differently.”
He’d intrigued her. “How does it work with them?”
He drew a shape on her palm. “Instead of the burn you and I share, a mark shows up, a different one for each Dante. When it appears, they know they’ve touched their soul mate. Since it can take as long as a week for the mark to manifest, they must figure out which of the many women they may have touched is the one meant for them.”
“Does the woman also carry a mark?”
Rom frowned. “Eventually, I guess. At least, all the women who have married my Dante cousins bear one. I’ve asked how it works, but they just laugh and wink. So, I’m not sure what causes the mark to appear, though I could speculate about various possibilities.” He smiled. “None of which are appropriate to share with you.”
“Mmm. I think I can guess,” she retorted dryly.
His smile grew. “To be honest, if I must choose one type of Inferno, I prefer this one since I knew the instant we touched that you were the one.”
She had one final question, one that had plagued her from the start. “And how long does The Inferno last?”
“Forever.”
“Truly?” She couldn’t help the doubt underscoring her question. “Forever?”
He nodded. “One man and one woman for all the years they live. I’m not sure I fully understood—or believed it possible—until I met you. But I understand now. I believe now.”
“Do you also believe we’ll always feel this way about each other?”
He gave it to her straight. “The Inferno strikes once and only once, Julietta. Dantes have a single soul mate in the whole of the world. Most of the time we are fortunate enough to find her, as I have found you. Sometimes a Dante spends his entire life looking and never discovers the woman meant to be his mate. In that case, he either spends his days alone, or settles for a pale reflection of the real thing.”
“Is that what your mother did after your father died?”
He shook his head. “She rarely spoke of The Inferno. She believes it’s a curse and claimed it died with my father.” She caught the underlying pain sweeping through his words, and her heart went out to him. How horrible to be told the love your parents felt for one another was cursed. “But I always thought she lied in order to protect the life she shares with Luigi. Now that I’ve experienced The Inferno, I’m even more certain she lied. There’s no question in my mind that what I feel for you will last until the end of my days.”
Exhaustion settled over her, catching her off guard. “I’m sorry, Rom. Everything is happening so fast. I can’t think straight.”
He tucked her close. “It’s natural to have doubts, especially when what your heart tells you is at odds with what your head is saying.”
“Or my family.”
“Yes. At some point you’ll need to choose between head and heart. Between what your family expects and what is right for you.” He cupped her face and tilted it up. “You’ll need to choose between me and Tito.”
“When you hold me, touch me, the choice is so simple.”
He kissed her, his mouth slow and delicious on hers. He didn’t rush the embrace. Nor did he deepen it, much to her disappointment. Finally, he released her. “It isn’t the choice that’s difficult. It’s what happens after you’ve made that choice. I won’t force you, Julietta. It has to be your decision.”
Midday the next day, Rom approached the cottage the Bianchi family was using until Julietta’s wedding. He could tell the instant Julietta sensed him. She stood in front of a window box, gently prying a clump of dying roses free from their hard-packed dirt bed. Once again, she wore a simple cotton dress, faded from repeated washings and the bleaching rays of the sun. She’d tied a gardening apron around her trim waist and protected her complexion with the same wide-brimmed straw hat she’d carried when he’d first come across her in the meadow. This time she wore her hair up, the hip-length mass gathered in a heavy knot at the nape of her neck.
At his approach, her back went rigid, and she stilled, as though taking a moment to gather him in and absorb his very essence. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said without turning around.
He responded with simple honesty. “I couldn’t stay away.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her reproving frown belied by
the amusement in her gaze. “And what will you say if people ask why you’re here?”
“I’ll tell them the truth,” he answered promptly. “Tito told me his fiancée possesses shockingly plump fingers and asked me to resize the engagement ring.”
She laughed at his teasing. Then her humor faded—no doubt at the reminder of all that stood between them. In its stead came a pain Rom would have given anything to ease. “The ring’s too constricting to wear.” She touched a spot beneath the bodice of her dress. “I put it on the chain that holds my crucifix.”
The irony of her comment didn’t escape him. “That ring will never be the right fit because you and Tito aren’t the right fit.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “And we are?”
“You already know the answer to that.” She frowned at the flowers she’d upended, and he joined her, clicking his tongue in dismay. “You’re like these plants, Julietta. If you stay in Santa Lucia, you’ll be as choked and root-bound as they are.”
“And if I don’t stay? Where will we go… after? Assuming there is an after.” She stroked the faded roses with a gloved hand. “Florence?”
He hesitated. He hadn’t told her about his job offer or his plan to move to California. He didn’t want to panic her. But she deserved to know. Deserved to have all the facts before she made her final decision. “Not Florence.”
Her brows pulled together. “But your job is in Florence, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “I’ve been offered a new job. One that will give me the freedom to become a better craftsman. To create my own line of jewelry and receive credit for it.”
She swiveled to face him, her expression alight with joy on his behalf. “Rom, that’s wonderful. Where’s this new job?”
He took a deep breath. “In America. San Francisco, to be precise. That’s a city in California.”
Dante's Dilemma (a Dante Legacy Novella) Page 6
