Marco's Stolen Wife (The Dante Inferno: The Dante Dynasty Series Book 2)

by Day Leclaire

  “Not half-bad? Are you kidding me? It’ll send women flocking to the stores.” Enthusiasm riddled Lazz’s voice. “They’ll all want their small piece of The Inferno. The Snitch is going to be furious at how we’ve turned this around.”

  “Even so . . .” Marco shook his head. “You know how I feel about profiting from The Inferno. And I guarantee Primo feels the same way.”

  Lazz studied his brother for a long, silent moment. “I’ve thought about this. Seriously, I have. Caitlyn’s idea isn’t some loud, brash ploy. It’s softer than you’re making out. Gentler. It’s almost . . .”

  “Almost what?”

  “It’s almost like she believes in The Inferno.”

  “We are talking about Caitlyn here, right?”

  “That’s what makes it so amazing,” Lazz said. “This isn’t a hard-sell campaign. It’s sweet and romantic. And honest.”

  Marco cocked his head to one side, intrigued. “Honest, how?”

  “Well, for one thing, if you truly believe in The Inferno—”

  “I do.”

  “Then, you must believe that our jewelry is imbued with a hint of The Inferno’s passion. I mean, think about it, Marco. Didn’t Francesca create her most spectacular designs after she fell in love with Sev? Doesn’t Primo credit Nonna with the inspiration for his greatest achievements? Don’t you think The Inferno influenced them, brought some of that passion to their work?”

  Marco couldn’t deny it. “You really think that’s what inspired her to come up with the marketing campaign?”

  Lazz shrugged. “Do you have a better explanation?”

  “No.”

  A sudden idea struck Marco, one so out there that it could only have been a jet-lag-induced flight of whimsy. But the more he considered the possibility, the more viable it became. It offered him the best of all worlds, an avenue for fixing their problem as well as a way to convince his wife that not only did he love her with all his heart and soul, but that she loved him, too. He just needed a few minutes to wrap his poor, tired brain around all the various details and organize them into a semblance of a plan. Unfortunately, details and organization were his wife’s specialty, not his.

  As soon as he’d thought it through, shuffled some of the pieces around and thought it through some more, he turned to Lazz. “There’s something we need to arrange, a small addendum to Caitlyn’s idea.”

  Lazz glanced in his direction. “Aw, hell, Marco. I know that look. Nicolò gets it every time he comes up with one of his crazier schemes. Whatever you’re thinking, forget it.”

  “Not a chance. If it works, it won’t only guarantee Dantes’ success, but it may prove to my darling, stubborn, pragmatic wife—hell, to all of you unbelievers—that The Inferno really does exist.”

  Lazz sighed. “I’m not going to like this idea, am I?”

  “Not even a little.” But this was important, perhaps the most important scheme he’d ever put together, with one exception—the night he’d convinced Caitlyn to marry him. “The timing on this is vital.”

  “That’s what your wife said.”

  “No, I mean we need to time our call to Britt Jones very carefully.”

  “What call to Britt Jones?” Lazz asked in alarm.

  “The one where I give her a heads-up about our new marketing plan.”

  Lazz’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to what?”

  “If Britt responds the way I expect her to, not only will our sales double, but more importantly, my wife will realize The Inferno is no fantasy.”

  Events transpired just as Caitlyn predicted. Britt’s final article came out in The Snitch to mixed reaction. Some thought it sweet, but most treated The Inferno claims with amused disdain. Dantes’ press release broke only hours later and changed all that. To her delight, the story piqued media attention and received impressive coverage under the banner of a light human-interest story.

  Women in particular found The Inferno claims quite intriguing, and traffic in and out of the various Dantes stores picked up significantly. Thanks to the extensive media coverage, Marketing and PR arranged for a press conference featuring all of the Dantes, and Caitlyn decided that she had no choice but to join the family on the dais, since she’d been so extensively quoted in Britt’s article. No doubt she’d have to field her fair share of questions.

  The one thing she hadn’t anticipated was seeing Britt among the milling press, a Snitch photographer at her side. Her ex-friend made a point of catching Caitlyn’s attention in order to offer a cheeky wave, and seemed delighted by the surprise and dismay her appearance engendered.

  “Ignore her,” Francesca recommended. “She’s just living off her five minutes of fame. She doesn’t even warrant the usual fifteen.”

  “After the way she spun The Inferno story, I’d have thought this would be the last place she’d want to show her face.” Caitlyn glanced down the row of Dantes. “Lazz looks on the verge of killing her. I think he felt her betrayal as much as I did.”

  “Probably because she was his personal assistant. That had to hurt.”

  Caitlyn caught her lip between her teeth. “When does Marco get back from Italy, do you know? I was hoping he’d be here for this.”

  Francesca gave her an odd look. “Sev said he got back last night. Didn’t he—” She broke off at her sister-in-law’s expression. “Oh, no. He didn’t come home? Caitlyn, I’m so sorry.”

  As though their conversation summoned him, he appeared on the far end of the dais. He didn’t even look her way and Caitlyn’s breath hitched in reaction. She blinked hard against a rush of tears. She needed to calm down, to shove her emotions to one side. She didn’t dare betray her distress. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these witnesses.

  The next several minutes passed in a haze. She heard various Dantes speak, heard questions being lobbed in, caught and spun back out again. It wasn’t until Britt stepped forward that Caitlyn’s focus sharpened to pinpoint intensity.

  “Hello, Marco,” she practically purred. “I just wanted to thank you for your call yesterday.”

  Caitlyn’s head jerked in his direction. “Did you know about that?” she whispered to Francesca.

  “No,” her sister-in-law murmured in return. “Sev never said a word. And judging by the expression on my dear husband’s face, he didn’t know, either.”

  Britt continued to address Marco. “One of the things you said during our conversation was that there wasn’t any way to prove or disprove The Inferno. Let’s see. How did you phrase it? Something along the lines of ‘that was the beauty of your family’s scam.’” She laughed. “Oops. I mean, your family legend.”

  “I believe I said that you couldn’t disprove it. You really should strive for accuracy when you quote people. I’ve noticed it’s an ongoing problem of yours.”

  Caitlyn shut her eyes. Oh, Marco. Why did he feel the need to tweak her tail? Hadn’t he learned yet how vindictive Britt was?

  As though reading Caitlyn’s mind, Britt bared her teeth. “Well, surprise, surprise. I have come up with a way to disprove it. Your marketing department claims that a bit of this Inferno is imbued in every piece of jewelry you sell.” She touched her earrings. “Not that you could prove it by me—”

  “I suppose there are some people even The Inferno can’t help,” he offered.

  Britt’s smile vanished. “Well, I’d like you to prove The Inferno, right here and now.”

  Marco folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous, Britt. How are we supposed to do that?”

  “No, no, no,” Caitlyn whispered beneath her breath. “He’s playing right into her hands.”

  To her surprise, Francesca began to smile. “Don’t be so sure. I have the impression your husband has that woman’s number better than you do.”

  Britt climbed onto the dais, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “I happen to have the answer to that right here.” She opened a voluminous bag she had slung over her shoulder. “I suggest we put it to a little t
est. You and Lazz are twins. I’d like to see if your wife can pick out which one of you is which, using only The Inferno.”

  Caitlyn stilled. “I can do that,” she told Francesca. “That’s simple.”

  As though Britt had heard, she pulled out a hood and a pair of earplugs. “Without the use of her eyes or ears, of course.” Interest rippled through the gathering, and she played to the crowd. “Now, I’ve tested these myself. She’s not going to be able to see or hear anything. Then I want Marco and Lazz to line up in front of her and if she can pick out the right brother, I’ll take back every last word I ever said about the Dantes. Even the positive stuff.”

  “Interesting, but . . .” He shook his head. “It’s not a sweet enough deal. I’m thinking we should go for broke.”

  “Oh?” Curiosity sparked, along with a hint of amusement. “You want to up the stakes?”

  “Absolutely. How about this. You lose, I want every last piece of Dante jewelry you own. I’ll even reimburse you for whatever you paid for them.” He covered the microphone and his playfulness faded, replaced by a dangerous edge. “You see, Britt, I don’t want you wearing anything we’ve ever crafted. Furthermore, you’re banned from ever entering a Dantes store from this day forward.”

  Humiliation sent hot color streaking across her cheekbones. “And if I win, I want all of you to admit that this whole Inferno business is nothing but a publicity stunt,” she announced in ringing tones. “And I want you to tear up my confidentiality agreement. I’ve decided there are a few more articles I’d like to write about you Dantes.”

  Before Caitlyn had time to beg Marco to turn the offer down, he nodded in agreement. “Done.”

  Marco turned toward Caitlyn, but Britt stepped between them. “Oh, no, lover boy.” An almost vicious note crept into her voice, one that didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m not giving you an opportunity to speak to her and arrange for some way of signaling her. We do this my way.”

  “I have no problem with that,” Marco said with an easy shrug.

  He glanced over Britt’s shoulders toward Caitlyn. She met his look, waiting to see the anger and disillusionment from when they’d parted earlier in the week. But not a trace of it remained. In its place was something that had tears flooding her eyes again. She saw a calm certainty. There was no doubt in her mind that he believed in her, without hesitation or exception. Before she could do more than stare in bewilderment, Britt crossed to her side.

  “I’m going to put Lazz and your husband in front of you. When I tap your shoulder, you point either left or right toward your husband.” She leaned in and spoke quietly enough that they couldn’t be overheard. “When you lose, my expression of triumph is going to be the first thing you see and my laughter the first thing you hear. And, honey, I flat-out can’t wait.”

  With that, she oversaw the placement of both earplugs and hood, before maneuvering Caitlyn to the center of the dais. There was an endless delay during which she sensed movement around her. And that entire time, she stood frozen in panic.

  If Lazz and Marco had been lined up in front of her, even with their backs turned as Francesca had suggested all those weeks ago, Caitlyn no longer questioned her ability to tell one twin from the other. But blindfolded? How was she supposed to pull this off?

  And what would happen if she chose wrong? Not much question about that. If she didn’t succeed, they’d lose the Romano account for good. The campaign she’d come up with would flop because The Inferno would be disproved. But worst of all, Marco would realize she wasn’t really his Inferno bride.

  Why had he done this? Why had he looked at her with such confidence, with such . . . Such love. She stiffened. Dear God, that’s what she saw in his eyes when he looked at her. He didn’t just believe in her and trust her. He loved her. And because of that love, the crazy man was convinced she could feel him through the hood, through the earplugs, through everything that separated them. Had he lost his mind?

  She could only think of one way—and a darned slim one at that—this might work. Her only hope was to trust in herself and believe that she could sense her husband, as she had the day she’d lunched with Francesca and Nonna. Pray The Inferno would miraculously help her separate him from Lazz. And with that thought came the realization she was putting her faith in something she’d always insisted didn’t exist.

  Somehow, at some point during their marriage, she’d started to believe in the existence of The Inferno. To accept it as fact instead of fiction, truth instead of fairy tale. The breath hitched in her throat. Whatever The Inferno was, she could feel it warming her, connecting her to Marco like a living conduit.

  Britt shuffled her into position and tapped her on the shoulder. Caitlyn hadn’t a clue why it had taken so long. Not that it mattered. She closed her eyes, despite the blanket of darkness provided by the hood, and focused on Marco. As she did, memories swept through her.

  Marco offering his hand in the lobby of Dantes and the two of them experiencing that initial, startling electric shock. Marco on the balcony of Le Premier, kissing her for the very first time while pretending to be Lazz. Their wedding, where he’d gazed down at her with such passion she shivered just recalling it. Their wedding night, a night so beautiful it would be an integral part of her until the day she died. All the intensely passionate nights since, when the two of them had become one. And finally, Marco staring at her before Britt had placed the hood over her head, staring with absolute faith.

  With love.

  She opened herself to her husband, pausing in confusion when she didn’t sense him in either of the two men standing before her. And then she felt the tickle of awareness, not in front, but off to her right. She turned. Hesitated. Felt the distinct throb in her palm. And then she didn’t hesitate at all. She made a beeline for her husband.

  His arms closed around her, lifted her. And then he stripped off the hood and gently pulled free the earplugs. “Any more questions about whether or not The Inferno exists?” he asked with a broad grin.

  “Not a one.” Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Marco’s neck and kissed him, while cheers erupted all around them. “I love you, Marco.”

  “I love you, too, cara, from the minute we first touched. For the rest of our lives you are my Inferno wife.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anything else.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “I just have two questions.”

  “Name them.”

  “Why didn’t you come home last night?”

  “Because I would have wanted to prove to you once and for all that I love you, and that The Inferno exists. But I realized it was more important you discover that for yourself. I needed you to trust me without the words. To trust your feelings for me.”

  “To trust in The Inferno.”

  “Yes.” He smoothed her hair back from her face.

  “What’s your second question?”

  “What took so long?” she asked with a sigh.

  He chuckled, the sound low and intimate. “I believe that’s my question for you. What took you so long to trust in The Inferno?”

  She answered readily enough. “The Inferno wasn’t logical. It still isn’t. But—” she blew out her breath “—you can’t argue with facts.”

  He blinked in surprise, then gave a shout of laughter. “Do you realize you just called The Inferno fact?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Scary, isn’t it? But that wasn’t actually my second question. What I want to know is, why did it take so long to start Britt’s experiment?”

  “Oh, that. My brothers weren’t happy about Britt changing the rules at the last minute. When she stuck Lazz and Nicolò in front of you, we almost had a riot on our hands. Even the crowd booed.”

  “But not you,” she guessed shrewdly.

  “I knew you’d find me.”

  Her arms tightened around him. “And now that I have, I’m never going to let you go.”

  Epilogue

  A full week later Caitlyn remembered something else she’d found in tha
t cursed box of personal files. The instant she did, she tracked down her husband, barging straight into his office. “Marco, there’s something you need to know. Something important.” She offered an apologetic look. “I would have told you sooner, but—”

  He lifted an eyebrow, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “You’ve been a little distracted?”

  How could she not after the blissful week they’d shared? “Yes.” She worried at her bottom lip until he put a stop to it with a lingering kiss.

  “First, before we deal with any more business, I have a present for you.” He held out a box that he’d personally wrapped and tied with a slightly lopsided bow. “Fair warning. It sparkles.”

  “Oh, Marco. You know you don’t have to buy me jewelry.”

  “I will be buying you jewelry,” he told her quite definitely. “In fact, I intend to shower you in fire diamonds. But this is something a little different.”

  Without another word, she took the box. The weight of it surprised her and she opened it, lifting out the velvet inner box. After she removed the lid, she stared at the contents and then began to laugh. He’d bought her a gorgeous glass paperweight. And floating inside the glass, like glittering diamond bubbles, was every last piece of Dante jewelry Britt Jones had owned. She threw her arms around her husband and kissed him. How had she gotten so fortunate? A man who could make her laugh and shower her with diamonds.

  She didn’t want this moment to end. And even though she knew she had endless moments like this ahead of her, soon she’d have to put romance aside and get down to business. Marco must have sensed her thoughts. He pulled back and cupped her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond, but took her mouth in a series of deep, penetrating kisses. It was just as well. She really didn’t want to tell him that she’d found evidence in the “box from hell” that the Dantes might not be the only legal owners of the fire diamond mine.