by Day Leclaire
He lifted her face to his and kissed her. Deep. Urgent. Desperate kisses. Taking her under until nothing existed but him. His mouth. His touch. The relentless burn of The Inferno. She suspected they’d have taken that final, irrevocable step if her stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to growl. She broke away with a laugh, one he shared.
He tucked a lock of hair he’d loosened during their embrace behind her ear. “Okay, piccola. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll spend the next month keeping our promise to Primo. We’ll get to know each other. Then we’ll decide about The Inferno.”
She could scarcely contain her relief. She’d been so afraid he’d want to be released from the hold of The Inferno, despite the intense desire they shared. It said a lot that neither of them questioned the level of passion they felt for the other. At least that aspect of their relationship had never been in doubt.
If they managed to put an end to The Inferno, the fragile bud of trust developing between them would be nipped off. The slow growth of passion into something deeper and more permanent would be cut down before it had a chance to bloom. By moving forward that tiny bud would have the opportunity to flourish and she realized just how badly she wanted to see what sort of flower blossomed as a result. She had a feeling it would be spectacular beyond belief.
A smile exploded from her, wide and radiant. “Well, okay. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll get to know each other better.” She gestured toward the table with trembling hands and scolded, “What are you waiting for? Sit and eat. Breakfast is getting cold.”
The next two weeks flew by. Gianna and Constantine approached the whole “getting to know each other” agreement a trifle self-consciously. At least, that was how she felt about their initial dates, dates to dinner or the movies or a quiet evening at home.
Granted, once they were together for a short time, the awkwardness vanished. In its place passion exploded, a passion they struggled to contain. She wished she could say nothing more than sheer lust existed between them, but that would be a lie, Gianna conceded. The truth was, she liked Constantine.
She enjoyed his intellect, and his observations about life. She found his work fascinating, particularly the interior design branch of Romano Restoration since she utilized similar skills and abilities when planning an event or staging one of Dantes’ high-end receptions. Constantine also possessed a calmness she appreciated and a way of taking control of a situation by smoothing over any rough edges. And as much as she’d like to fault him for holding her at a firm distance, she couldn’t fault his sense of honor, not when it went to the very core of who he was as a man.
Sitting behind her desk, Gianna tapped a pen against the catering contract spread across the glass tabletop while she analyzed her relationship with Constantine. She didn’t even mind that he tended to be a bit of a control freak. Even there, they meshed well. She might be a bit scattered at times and possess a strong tendency to act on impulse, particularly in her personal life—David being a prime example. But when it came to her job, she was detail-oriented and on top of things. Her work at Dantes demanded it.
The phone at her elbow rang and she answered it absently, perking up when Constantine’s sexy accent sounded in her ear. “How is your day going, piccola?” he asked.
Mmm. Just hearing his voice made her want to melt right into her chair. “Better now that you’ve called,” she admitted.
“Then I’m sorry to say that I’m about to make your day worse.”
“Tonight?” she guessed with a disappointed sigh.
A light tap sounded at her door and Juice, a longtime family friend, stuck his gleaming bald head into her office. He’d first been adopted by the Dantes when he’d worked for her brother’s private security firm, before Luc had taken over Dantes Courier Service. Juice specialized in background checks, finding what others didn’t want found, and all things stored in cyberspace. Occasionally he helped the Dantes with his expertise. Gianna was hoping this would be one of those times. She waved him in and toward a seat near her desk.
“Do you need to change our plans?” she asked Constantine.
“I have to cancel them, I’m afraid. Some last minute alterations to a proposal.”
“Oh, no,” she said sympathetically. “Not the Diamondt account, I hope.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But, you’ve worked so hard on that one. And the plans you’ve designed for the restoration are gorgeous. What’s the problem?”
“A family disagreement. Apparently there’s a son-in-law who owns enough of his late wife’s share of the family business that they need his approval on my restoration project before going to contract.”
“It would have helped if they’d told you about him beforehand.”
“My thoughts, exactly. Now I am forced to make a number of alterations that I hope will satisfy all the various parties. I may even have to fly up there to meet with Moretti in order to resolve the problem.”
“Moretti? Is that the son-in-law’s name?” For some reason it rang a distant, rather muffled, bell. “Sounds like the Diamondts and the Dantes have something in common. We both have our little family squabbles that require a firm hand to resolve. In our case, Primo’s hand.”
“Not even close,” he assured her. “The Dantes adore each other and squabble accordingly. The Diamondts put me more in mind of the Borgias. Unfortunately they don’t have a Primo to straighten them out, which means they’re all jockeying for control.”
She chuckled. “That bad, huh? Okay, I’ll let you get back to it. How about tomorrow? Do you have to work over the weekend?”
“I’m free both days,” he assured her. “Think about how you’d like to spend them.”
“I’ll do that.” She spared Juice a quick glance and kept her voice light and casual. “I’ll talk to you later.”
A brief pause, then, “You’re not alone, are you?”
“Good guess.”
“Family?”
She winked at Juice to include him in the conversation. “An old family friend.”
“You tempt me to say something that will make you blush.”
“Do that and it will be the topic of conversation for quite some time to come,” she warned.
“Ah.” It took every ounce of self-possession to keep from shuddering at the deep, sexy way he drew out the sound. “That sort of old family friend. I assume that means you’re not the only chiacchierona.”
“He’d resent that. He’d also resemble it—but only on occasion. In his line of work he has to know when to talk…and when not to.”
That elicited a laugh. “Then I’ll spare your blushes and call later when we can talk dirty in private.”
He’d succeeded in making her blush, anyway, a fact Juice noted with an uplifted eyebrow. “I’ll definitely make it worth your while,” she shot back.
“Now I’m blushing.”
And with that the line went dead, leaving her grinning like an idiot.
“I see the rumors aren’t rumors, after all,” Juice observed in a deep, rumbling bass. “Would I be correct in assuming Constantine Romano caused you to turn that interesting shade of red?”
Her smile broadened. “You would.”
“Serious?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I think so.”
“I’m happy for you.” He leaned forward and rested his massive arms on his knees. “So what’s up, G? You said you had a job for me.”
“I do.” She glanced toward the open door. Better if they weren’t overheard, she decided, and crossed her office to close it. “Would it be possible to keep this between the two of us?” she asked, resuming her seat.
“I’d have to know the particulars before I answered that question.”
She blew out a sigh. “Fair enough. I’d like you to find a diamond for me. It went missing about a year and a half ago.”
“I don’t suppose you’re talking about Brimstone?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You know about Brim stone?”
&n
bsp; “I know lots of stuff.” His dark eyes gleamed with laughter. “Most of which you don’t.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” she complained. “I don’t suppose you can tell me the whereabouts of Brimstone?”
“I can’t.”
Hmm. “Can’t…or won’t?”
“Can’t,” he repeated gently. “I don’t know where it is.”
“Could you find out?”
His gaze intensified. No wonder Luc had hired Juice. Brilliant. Able to find anything or anyone. And, when he chose to be, one of the most intimidating men she’d ever met. “Why do you want to find it?”
“Someone else is after the stone and I think the Dantes should find it first.”
“Makes sense.”
“One more thing… In addition to finding Brimstone, there’s a person I want you to track down. Don’t approach him or do anything once you locate him,” she hastened to add. “Just keep tabs on him.”
“If you’re talking about David d’Angelo, that’s already covered.”
She should have known. “Luc?” she guessed.
He ticked off on his fingers. “Luc. Rafe. Draco. Your father. Primo. Various cousins. Pretty much the whole Dante clan.”
Alarm filled her. “What are they going to do when you find him?”
“Make him disappear.” He paused a beat. Then a slow grin split his dark face. “God, you’re easy. I’m kidding, G. They want the same thing you do. To keep tabs on the guy. Dig up any dirt on him. Make sure he doesn’t take advantage of some other poor woman. They want to see him pay…legally. After what he did to you, would you expect any less?”
“Oh.” For a minute there, she’d actually believed him about making David disappear. Scary thought. She cleared her throat. “Well, okay, then.”
“I’ll see what I can do about Brimstone. Anything else?”
“That’s it.” She eyed him in open curiosity. “What do you think the chances are you’ll find it?”
“Fair-to-middlin’. What do you think the chances are that you and Constantine will hook up?”
“We’re only dating, Juice.”
He tipped his head to one side. “I heard engaged.”
“Nope. Just dating.”
“Okay.” He stood and headed for the door, turning at the last moment. “Just so you know, I have a hundred on this weekend.”
She stared in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“The pool for when you and Constantine will make it official. I have this weekend. Winning might upgrade the chances of my finding Brimstone from fair-to-middling to who’s-your-daddy.” And with that, he exited her office.
It took Gianna a full thirty seconds to catch her breath sufficiently to respond. When she did, she bellowed, “Rafe!”
Taking pity on Constantine and his business woes, Gianna decided to pick up dinner and drop it off at Romano Restoration. She wouldn’t stay, she promised herself. If he could spare a half hour she’d let him talk her into hanging around long enough to share a meal with him. But otherwise she’d make herself scarce so he could put the finishing touches on his proposal.
She caught a cab to his office building. The receptionist was no longer on duty, but the security guard tipped his cap when he saw her, recognizing her from her frequent visits. He even called the elevator for her, holding the door with a friendly smile. She stepped inside and used the key Constantine had given her to access his apartment. All the while, the delicious scent of the dinner she’d picked up at the Oriental Pearl filled the small space.
He wasn’t in the apartment, which meant she’d find him in his office. She’d assumed as much, but she had a few things she wanted to nab before she joined him. Snagging a throw off the back of his couch, she gathered up napkins, a bottle of wine and wineglasses. At the last minute she remembered to add a bottle opener to her stash and headed downstairs. Sure enough, he sat behind his desk, hard at work.
She paused unnoticed in the doorway and took the opportunity to study him. Usually he sensed her. But she suspected he was so focused on the job at hand that it would take more than even The Inferno to pry him loose.
His ink-black hair fell across his forehead in thick, unruly waves. She’d have called them curls, but suspected he’d take immediate exception to the term, a fact that made her smile. He jotted a note in the margin of the paper he held, the desk lamp casting sharp light across his features.
Dear heaven, but he was a gorgeous man. Elegant, and yet intensely male. His features were also intensely male—a firm, straight nose, a wide sensuous mouth, strong chin and jaw, high, aristocratic cheekbones. But the most devastating feature of all were his eyes. So dark. So sharp. So direct and honest.
Something deep inside of her gave a quick tug. A little lurch. She closed her eyes, unable to hide from the truth. She suspected that if she didn’t actually love this man, she was teetering on the brink. Dante pride had kept her from admitting it, but she couldn’t lie to herself. Not now. She’d fallen in lust the moment they’d touched. Her family called it The Inferno, but she knew lust when she felt it.
At some point in the dozen plus days they’d been together, her feelings for him had grown. Deepened. Matured. It would only take a tiny nudge to send her tumbling. She almost laughed at the thought. If left to Constantine, it wouldn’t be a nudge, but a full-body tackle from “maybe” to “happily ever after.”
She knew the instant he sensed her. A predatory stillness consumed him. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He simply lifted his eyes and stared at her. She returned the look, not moving or speaking, either. She let him eat her alive with his gaze while she returned the favor.
“Are you real?” he asked with a slow smile. “Or just a delicious dream?”
“Definitely real.” She held up the bag of food. “And extra delicious. Can you spare a few minutes for dinner?”
His smile grew. “Maybe you can feed me while I work.”
“Now you are dreaming.”
He chuckled. “It was worth a try.” He eyed the blanket she carried. “Cold?”
“Nope. I thought we’d have a picnic.” She slipped out of her heels. “Kick off your shoes and relax for a few minutes.”
He hesitated, shook his head. “I don’t kick off my shoes.”
That gave her pause. “Seriously? Never?”
“Seriously. Never.” His expression darkened. “You can’t be ready to go at a moment’s notice if you’re not wearing your shoes.”
She blinked. That never would have occurred to her. “I’m not sure what might happen in the next half hour that you’ll need to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Thanks.”
Now she knew something was off. Thinking back she realized that even when she and Constantine had been their most relaxed during evenings at her row house, he’d never taken off his shoes. He’d also kept his possessions neatly gathered so all he had to do was pick them up on his way out the door.
Not the least like her. Half her possessions were scattered across every Dante home in the Bay Area. The Italian version of mi casa es su casa. She’d have dismissed Constantine’s obsessiveness as a personality quirk if she hadn’t caught that telltale darkness flitting across the hard contours of his face. Something was up there and she made a mental note to explore it at a future date. Until then, no point in making a big deal about it or attempting to involve him in a heavy discussion. Not when he was in the middle of a work crisis.
Keeping the mood light and easy, Gianna offered a cheerful smile and shrugged. “Oh. Okay. Keep your shoes on if it makes you more comfortable.” She held up the bag of goodies. “Hungry?”
“What did you bring for us?” he asked, only too happy to go along with the change of subject.
She grinned. “Everything.”
The next half hour turned out to be a brief moment of enchantment. They spent the time together eating and laughing, using the chopsticks that came with their meal to feed each other tidbits
from the selection of cartons. The office setting faded into the background while they sat on the butter-soft blanket she’d liberated from his apartment. The light from his desk barely reached them, illuminating their impromptu picnic with a muted, distant glow.
“Will it always be like this?” she asked at one point while she refilled their wineglasses.
He paused, chopsticks lifted halfway to her mouth. “Like what?”
“Fun. Romantic.” She shrugged. “Wonderful.”
Raw pleasure shot through his gaze. “Considering who I have to be fun, romantic and wonderful with, it shouldn’t be too difficult,” he replied, much to her delight. “Have you thought about what you’d like to do this weekend?”
She hesitated. “There’s one thing…”
“Name it.”
“My family owns a place about three hours north of here. It’s on a good-size lake. Great fishing and sailing. Over the years we’ve acquired all the property around it, so it’s pretty private. Maybe Ariana mentioned it to you?” she asked uncertainly. “The entire family goes each summer for a huge Dante blowout.”
“Sounds like fun. Is this weekend the family blowout?”
“No, not for another few weeks.” She hesitated. “I thought we could go ahead of time, just for the weekend.”
“I’m not sure this is what Primo had in mind when he gave us a month to get to know each other better.”
“True.” She caught her lip between her teeth. “Even so, I’d like to go.”
He studied her for a moment and she wondered if he could read the truth in her face, if he could tell she had an ulterior motive. “If that’s what you’d like, of course we can go to the lake. Do we need permission from Primo?”
She shook her head. “My brothers and cousins and I all have carte blanche to visit anytime we want. We can either stay at the main house or in one of the cabins by the lake. You can decide which you prefer when we get there.”
“What’s going on, Gianna?” he asked bluntly.
She drew her legs close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. All the while she avoided his gaze. “I’d just like to take you to the lake without my entire family watching our every move.”
