Sev's Blackmailed Bride (The Dante Inferno: The Dante Dynasty Series Book 1)

by Day Leclaire

  “He’s a fool.”

  She dropped her hands and stared up at Sev. “What did I do? What did I do wrong?”

  He hugged her fiercely. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not a damn thing. It’s them, honey. Something’s wrong with them. But you have me and you have the rest of the Dantes. And they flat-out adore you.” A raw ferocity coated his words. “We’ll be your family from now on.”

  “When they find out we’re not really engaged, they won’t want me, either,” she felt obligated to point out, tears welling anew.

  “They will. I promise.” He continued to hold her close while the water poured down on them. “Easy, sweetheart. Let it all out. You’ll feel better if you do.”

  Let what out? Didn’t he understand? She felt dead inside. Her father rejected her. She couldn’t say why she cared so much. After all, what did one more rejection matter after so many?

  At long last, Sev shut off the water and left her dripping, naked and alone, in the middle of the tile floor. An instant later he reappeared with an armload of towels. He slung one around his waist and dropped another on her head, before swathing her from shoulders to knees in a third. Then he proceeded to rub her down with a briskness that caused her skin to glow.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, emotional exhaustion leaving her only mildly curious.

  “You’re in shock. I need to get you warm.”

  She peered at him from beneath the towel. “I’m not shocked. I’m not even surprised. I knew what would happen if Kurt and Tina found out the truth about me.”

  He knelt at her feet, drying her with an impersonal touch that had her responding in far too personal a way. “You’d be rejected, just as you’ve been rejected so many times before.”

  She shrugged, admitting, “I’m sort of used to it.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s what kills me.”

  “Don’t let it bother you. It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore.”

  “I shouldn’t ask. But I will.” He rocked back on his heels and stared up at her, his face set in grim lines. “Why doesn’t it bother you anymore?”

  She spoke slowly, as though to a backward child. “Because I can’t feel.” Sheesh. Didn’t he get it? “When you can’t feel, it doesn’t hurt.”

  For some reason that made him swear. When he’d run out of invectives, he planted a hand low on her back and ushered her from the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

  “Several, I think.”

  “Hmm. And something to eat.”

  Ten minutes later, she was curled up on the floor in front of a fire, dining on a selection of imported cheese and crackers while sipping the smoothest single-malt whiskey she’d ever tasted. Sev lounged beside her, a towel still knotted at his waist. She woke to her surroundings sufficiently to admire the miles of toned muscle rising above the soft white fleece.

  Lord help her, but he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He hadn’t bothered to brush his hair, simply slicked it back from his face so it clung damply to the back of his neck in heavy, dark waves. His features reminded her somewhat of Primo, with the same rugged handsomeness and noble bearing. And, of course, the same stunning eye color. But the rest . . . Oh, my. The rest was pure Severo Dante.

  She buried her nose in the crystal tumbler and took a quick sip. Unable to help herself, she peeked at him from over the rim. Memories from their nights together came storming back. They’d made love right here in front of the fire at least a half-dozen times. Several more times on the couch behind them when they’d been too impatient to traverse the short distance from there to the bedroom. Most nights she shared with him, a pathway appeared, one strewn with clothes spreading from front door to bed.

  How she enjoyed those moments, especially when she wrestled him free of that last article of clothing. He had the most incredible body, lean and graceful, yet powerful enough to lift her with ease, which he often did, then tip her onto silken sheets and cover her with that endless length of potent masculinity.

  She drained the last of the whiskey and set the glass aside. “I need you to do me a favor,” she informed him.

  “If I can.”

  “Oh, you can.” The only question was . . . Would he? “I want you to make love to me. I want to feel something again.”

  He studied her for a long, silent moment and she could see him preparing a list of excuses. She was too vulnerable. He didn’t want to take advantage of her. There were still so many issues unresolved between them. But something in her gaze, or perhaps it was something buried deep in his heart, must have convinced him otherwise.

  Instead of turning her down, he tugged the towel free of her hair and tossed it aside before pulling her onto his lap and thrusting his hands deep into her damp curls. Turning her to fully face him, her knees settling on either side of his hips, he closed his mouth over hers in a kiss hot enough to leave scorch marks. She opened for him, welcoming him home. The duel was short and sweet, a battle for supremacy that neither lost, yet both won.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked.

  The question slid from his mouth to hers and she laughed softly in response. “I’m not sure. I might have noticed a slight tingle.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Slight tingle? Slight?”

  She blinked with patently false innocence and wiggled her bottom in a provocative motion against him. “Very slight.”

  “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

  He flipped her off his lap and onto her back. Firelight lapped over his determined face and caught in his eyes, causing the gold to burn like wildfire. She missed this. Missed seeing his abandoned reaction whenever they touched. Missed the romantic soul that blunted the contours of his male sexuality. Missed opening to him—physically and emotionally—in the darkest hours of the night and sharing all she hid within her heart. And having him share what he kept locked away in his. But most of all, she missed this. The intimacy. The passion. Possessing and being possessed.

  He kissed her again. Deeper. More thoroughly. He worshiped her with mouth and tongue until she went mindless with pleasure. “Tell me you feel that,” he demanded.

  She groaned. “A tickle. Barely a tickle.”

  “Right. That’s it.”

  Uh-oh. Annoyed obstinance if ever she heard it. He kissed a path downward, mixing the gentle caresses with love nips that had her toes curling into knots. He ripped the towel open and bared her to a combination of firelight and heated gaze. He shot her one last lingering look before applying himself to his appointed task.

  He glided his hands along the sides of her breasts, using just the very tips of his fingers so he barely connected with her skin. She shivered at the sensation, shocked that so light a touch could provoke such a strong reaction. She bit back a cry, forcing herself to remain silent, even though it just might kill her. No. Definitely would kill her.

  Around he circled, edging ever closer to the pebbled tips of her breasts. She fought with every ounce of self-possession to keep from begging him to take her, almost shooting off the plush carpet when his teeth closed over her nipple and tugged.

  If she’d ever questioned The Inferno before, she didn’t now. It erupted, low in her belly, spilling over like molten lava. It liquefied everything in its path as it began an onslaught of hunger so deep and all-consuming, she literally shook with the effort to contain it.

  He moved lower, touching her belly with his fingers and mouth. Lower. Brushing the nest of curls that protected her feminine core. Lower. Took the heart of her with his mouth. She went deaf and blind as her climax ripped her apart. She fought to draw air into lungs squeezed breathless, barely aware that Sev had left her side.

  She still hadn’t recovered when he returned, carefully protected, and settled between her thighs. “Do you feel alive now? Do you feel wanted?”

  Sensations toppled one on top of another, so intense she couldn’t process them all. “Sev . . .” His name escaped in a husky cry, half concession, half demand. “
Pleaseohpleaseohplease.”

  He probed inward, a teasing, swirling movement. “Do you feel this?”

  “Yes.” She moaned as he slid deep, driving all the way home. “I’m definitely feeling something I never have before.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. She’d never felt more alive. Never felt more wanted or cherished. Never belonged with anyone as she did with Sev in this moment. Her climax approached again, every bit as powerful as before. Only this time he joined her. To her amazement, it didn’t rip or shred, but melded, uniting them together in something so different, so special, she couldn’t at first find the word to name it. And then it came to her and in doing so, overwhelmed her with the devastating knowledge.

  In that brief moment, she no longer stood on the outside looking in. Love opened the door and she flew inside.

  Chapter Ten

  Morning found Sev in bed wrapped around Francesca in a complicated tangle of arms and legs. He had a vague recollection of scraping her boneless body off the carpet and tossing her over his shoulder before staggering to the bedroom. Or maybe they’d just crawled here.

  She stirred within his embrace and flopped onto her back with a groan. He smiled at the sight. She’d gone to bed with damp hair and now it surrounded her head like a fluffy halo. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate her appearance anywhere near as much as he did.

  His smile faded as a new and unfamiliar realization took hold. Last night their relationship had changed, a change that went way beyond what it had been before, on either the work front or as former lovers. Somehow, it had shifted them into an entirely new realm, a realm neither of them anticipated.

  “Who glued my eyes shut?” She forced one open. “Hey, we’re in bed.”

  “Excellent observation.”

  “How’d we get here?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “Maybe I carried you in before I had my wicked way with you. Again.”

  He grinned. “That’s entirely possible.”

  “Is it just me?” She hesitated, an innate wariness flickering like a warning light. “Or did something peculiar happen to us last night? Even more peculiar than The Inferno, I mean. Although how that’s even possible is beyond me.”

  He framed her face, tracing the delicate bone structure with his fingertips until the shape and texture became as familiar to him as his own. The need to remain in physical contact with her had become an urge he no longer bothered resisting. The Inferno had won.

  “I believe we both realized the truth last night,” he admitted.

  She regarded him with some reservation. “Which is?”

  “This isn’t going away.” He lifted her left hand and studied the engagement ring she wore. The inner fire seemed to erupt from the center of the diamond, fiercer than he’d ever seen it before. “Maybe we should consider making this permanent.”

  He absorbed her jerk of surprise, felt her heart rate kick up a notch. “Are you serious?”

  “I think it’s worth discussing, don’t you?”

  A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. It grew until her entire face radiated with it. “I wouldn’t mind,” she admitted softly.

  On the nightstand table, his cell emitted a soft buzz and Sev swore beneath his breath. “I should have left the damn thing in the other room.”

  She jackknifed upward and snatched a swift kiss. “Go ahead and take it while I get cleaned up.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She bounced off the bed and darted into the bathroom. Her muffled shriek of dismay put a grin on his face. Something told him she’d just discovered a mirror. He snagged the phone and took the call. “This better be good,” he growled.

  “It’s Lazz. And it’s not good. In fact, it’s an effing mess. If you’d bothered to come to work this morning—”

  “Get to the point,” Sev interrupted.

  “Seriously, bro, what the hell are you doing and why aren’t you here? There is a fan sitting on my desk cranked to high and you can’t believe what just hit it.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Francesca.”

  Hell. He glanced toward the bathroom. Water ran in the sink and he could hear her humming, the sound light and happy and slightly off-key. “What’s the problem?”

  “Bloom’s rep called. They’ve decided to go with Timeless.”

  “Not good, but we knew winning that account would be a long shot. What’s it got to do with Francesca?”

  At the sound of her name, she appeared in the doorway. She’d tamed her hair, much to his disappointment and, even more disappointing, slipped on one of his shirts. She shot him a questioning look as she rolled up the sleeves, an incandescent happiness pouring off her in waves. After the meeting with Kurt, he didn’t think she’d ever find joy again. But she had, and it humbled him that she found it in his arms.

  “Francesca’s the one who convinced Bloom to go with TH,” Lazz said.

  Sev shot off the bed. “Not a chance.”

  “I’m dead serious. Sev, I spoke to the rep. Personally.”

  He bowed his head and stared at the floor. “She wouldn’t have done that. I want you to double-check, Lazz. Triple-check, if that’s what it takes. Find out why Bloom’s rep would lie to you.” And then he looked up, straight into Francesca’s eyes. What hovered there in the shadowed darkness had him breaking off with a word he’d never normally use in her presence. He hit the disconnect button. “Lazz doesn’t need to triple-check, does he? Bloom’s rep told him the truth.”

  His shirt hung on her, making her appear small and fragile. Or maybe it was the barriers she slammed back in place. He never realized how utterly they enshrouded her until she emerged from their protective folds. Last night she’d bared herself in a way she never had before, not in all the time they’d been together.

  Francesca shook her head. “There’s no point in his checking again.”

  “You contacted Juliet Bloom’s representative?” At her nod, he hit her with his accusation. “You advised her to go with Timeless.”

  “Yes. I guaranteed she wouldn’t lose if she did so. That it would only benefit her.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Payback, Francesca?” he asked softly.

  She tilted her chin to a combative angle and fixed him with a cool, remote gaze that shot his blood pressure straight through the roof. “I prefer to call it insurance.”

  “Explain,” he rapped out.

  “Timeless Heirlooms owns the designs that Juliet Bloom is so crazy about. The ones I created. She wants to wear them in her next film. Dantes plans to purchase TH, not put them out of business, so Timeless will endure regardless of ownership. Once the company is safely tucked back into the Dantes’ fold, you’ll receive the continued benefit from having someone of Bloom’s caliber as your spokeswoman.”

  “If we tuck TH back into the Dantes’ fold,” he corrected tightly. “That’s a big, fat effing if!”

  “You’ve already assured me it’s going to happen, regardless of me, or the Fontaines, or even Juliet Bloom.” She lifted an eyebrow. “A lie, Sev?”

  His back teeth clamped together. “It’s no lie.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” She stepped from the bathroom, wary enough to keep her distance. Smart woman. “All I’ve done is ensure that you honor the contract we signed and pay the Fontaines a fair price for TH. Now that Bloom’s agreed to be the spokeswoman for them, Kurt and Tina will reunite. They’ll have no other choice if they want that contract. Knowing Tina as I do, she won’t let a little thing like an illegitimate daughter stand in the way of a deal of this magnitude.”

  “It will, however, make it more difficult for me to acquire TH.”

  She graciously conceded the point, which had him backing up a step so he wouldn’t give in to temptation and throttle her. “But it will happen. And when that day comes, since I work for you, I’m also available to work with Ms. Bloom should she wish to expand the
current collection I designed for her. Or I can create a whole new line for her at some point in the future. And if you don’t buy out TH, Ms. Bloom will most likely jump ship and become Dantes’ spokeswoman, since I now work for you. As far as I can tell, everyone comes out of this a winner.”

  “Except for you.”

  That stopped her. About damn time. “What are you talking about?” For the first time a hint of uncertainty crept into her voice.

  “I’m talking about the fact that I have the option to either fire you, in which case I’ll see to it that you don’t work in the industry for the next two years. Or I can transfer you to another office. Either way, Bloom will no longer be your problem.”

  “Which do you intend to do?”

  Francesca asked the question so calmly, if he didn’t know better he’d have thought she didn’t care. But if he’d learned nothing else about her, he had learned that designing jewelry was as much a part of her as her heart or soul. In fact, it was her soul. He couldn’t take that away from her, no matter how badly her actions had hurt him.

  And they had hurt him. This wasn’t about business, anymore. In fact, she’d shown a ruthlessness he could almost admire. A ruthlessness he, himself, had been forced to employ on occasion. No, this had become personal. It felt personal. It felt as though he’d risked opening himself to her, only to have her use what she’d learned to hurt him.

  “I believe there’s a spot open for you in our New York office. I’ll make your transfer effective immediately.”

  She jerked as though he’d struck her, staring at him for an endless moment with huge, wounded eyes. Without a word, she turned on her heel and moved through the apartment, gathering her possessions. Sev hardened himself as he waited for her to finish and leave.

  Even so, it tore him apart watching her. One more rejection. One more door slammed in her face. Once more out in the proverbial cold. They made one hell of a pair.