Dante's Honor-Bound Husband (11 page)

She shrugged. “A matter of opinion. Though I can understand your family's disappointment at the loss.” A sudden thought occurred. “Just out of curiosity, would you have taken the money from the diamond to start up Romano Restoration?”

He hesitated. “I would have been seriously tempted. But in the end…” He shook his head. “It still would have been money I'd neither earned, nor deserved to profit from. So, no. If the Romanos had taken our share of Brimstone, it wouldn't have changed the past nineteen months, if that's what you're asking. We'd still have been apart.”

“Damn it,” she whispered.

“What?”

She frowned at him in open displeasure. “I'm beginning to see your point of view in all this. It's really annoying, too.”

Amusement combined with a deep tenderness and affection. He loved her honesty and frankness. Loved that she didn't pull her punches, even on those occasions when they stood on opposite sides of the proverbial fence. It also pleased him that she considered the Brimstone contract as much an outrage as he did. He found it encouraging that they were so closely aligned on certain issues. Which reminded him…

“Let's not forget the original problem.”

It only took her a moment to follow his line of thought and she winced. “David.”

“Yes. Unfortunately d'Angelo has excellent inside information. He knows that Brimstone is missing.”

“Not really. He only suspects.”

“But once he decides neither family has it—”

“He's going to try to find it,” Gianna finished his sentence for him. She expertly folded the omelets, then plated them, grating cheese over the top for the finishing touch. “I wonder
if David knows Brimstone is sewn into one of the dolls. I'd hate to think he's running around gutting every poor Nancy doll he can find in a frantic search for the diamond.”

Constantine grimaced, gathering the necessary items to set the table. “Hell, I hadn't considered that possibility.”

“Maybe we should. And maybe we should find out where the diamond went before he does.” She busied herself filling two bowls with fruit salad while she considered. “One final question.”

“Just one?”

She chuckled. “For now.” She helped him carry food from the kitchen into the dining room. “Why do you suppose Uncle Dominic went to such extremes to ensure Lazz and Ariana married? I mean, creating a marriage contract seems a bit out there. He couldn't be certain they were experiencing an early form of The Inferno. After all, they were only children.”

Constantine shrugged. “Apparently Dominic decided that marrying someone who wasn't his Inferno bride guaranteed a disastrous marriage and he didn't want Lazz and Ariana to experience what he did with his wife, Laura.”

Gianna stiffened. “No, that's not right. You or your father must have misunderstood.”

He shook his head. “I don't think so. Weren't your aunt and uncle planning to divorce shortly before their deaths?”

“Yes, but the two definitely felt The Inferno for each other. Even though they were Inferno soul mates, it didn't work out for them.” She set the plates on the table, avoiding his gaze. “That's what I've been trying to explain to you. Experiencing The Inferno isn't a guarantee of a happy marriage. That's why I want to make sure we're compatible before we take our relationship any further.”

“Che cavolo!”
He snagged her chin, forcing her to look at him, practically vibrating with fury. “Are you telling me
you've inflicted me with The Inferno,
but we may never know true happiness together?
”

Misery invaded her gaze. “Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.”

G
ianna winced at the combination of outrage and anger that burned in Constantine's expression.

“Why would you do this to us?” he demanded in Italian.

She allowed a hint of her own temper to show. “You keep saying that like I had a choice. I didn't and I don't. It just happens, okay? The Inferno chooses, not me.”

“That is a very convenient gift,” he accused. “All you have to say to escape blame is it's not your fault. It's The Inferno.”

“It
isn't
my fault. And it
was
The Inferno.” She confronted him, hands on her hips. “Do you really think I took one look at you in all your magnificence and decided… Yeah, let's zap him for the rest of our lives?”

“I don't know.” He stuck his truly magnificent nose in her face, speaking between gritted teeth. “Did you?”

She wanted to scream in frustration. “We were meeting
for the first time when it happened! Until then, we'd never spoken one word to each other. Why would I want to saddle myself with a man I don't even know?” She held up her hand before he could offer another sarcastic comment. “Don't you get it? The Inferno works the way it works. I'm as much a victim of it as you are. Do you think I like having decisions made for me? That I like having some weird flash of heat and electricity decide that you're the one?”

“Considering you would have chosen d'Angelo over me, maybe you're better off trusting The Inferno,” he shot back.

“Oh! That is beyond low—”

He cut her off without hesitation, all the while struggling to rein in his temper. “Let me see if I have this straight. You and I have felt The Inferno.”

She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Yes.”

“But someday you may shake another man's hand and feel The Inferno for him.” Constantine had keyed in on the one part of this entire situation that she hated the most. “I will only want you and no other woman for the rest of my days. You may Inferno any number of men. Is that correct?”

Her cheeks warmed and she nodded. “I think so, yes.”

Until this moment she hadn't realized how much he resented The Inferno or what had happened between them. Of course, she'd grown up with The Inferno, he hadn't. She'd heard Primo and Nonna relate the “fairy tale” of their first meeting from the time she was a toddler, had seen the joy and happiness between her own parents, just as she'd witnessed the misery Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura had been unable to conceal. It made for a confusing picture.

Her cousins and brothers had never believed in the family “blessing” or “curse” as they'd jokingly called it. They'd
held tight to their lack of faith right up until it had happened to them. Throughout it all, Gianna had stood on the sidelines watching while, one by one, cousin and brother had fallen and fallen hard. And she'd kept her mouth firmly shut about what she'd learned on her thirteenth birthday, not wanting to put a damper on all that delirious “forever after” Inferno love.

If they only knew.

The years had passed and she'd waited to see whether a female Dante was capable of feeling The Inferno, of sharing it with her chosen mate, not quite sure whether or not she wanted the experience. Then it happened. What she hadn't foreseen was Constantine's adverse reaction. Her indignation faded.

“You hate The Inferno, don't you?” she asked miserably.

“I hate that it's taken away my choice,” Constantine admitted. He corralled the intensity of his anger. “That it eats into my self-control and ability to determine my own destiny. That I am unable to decide yes, no or maybe, and am simply swept along like a helpless minnow plummeting over the rapids of a raging river.”

Gianna struggled to conceal her pain. All this time she'd thought he'd wanted her. And all this time he'd resented that want. The knowledge forced her to offer a way out. It was the only honorable course available to her. She took a step back so her closeness wouldn't influence him. Ridiculous, really. If they'd felt the unrelenting pull when they'd been separated by six thousand miles of land and ocean, a few feet wasn't going to change anything.

“Would you rather not feel The Inferno?” she forced her self to ask. “If I could undo it, take it away, would you want me to?”

Instead of jumping at the offer, to her surprise and relief he hesitated. “You can do this?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “I've never tried.”

“If you did, I would feel nothing for you?”

She shook her head, unable to give him an honest answer. “I have no idea. It's possible.”

He stared down at his palm for several long minutes, digging his thumb into the center while he considered. “It's hard for me to imagine not wanting you.” He focused on her once again. “What about you? If you took back The Inferno would you still feel it toward me?”

She bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling. “I think I'll no longer feel it for you when I feel it for someone else.
If
I feel it for someone else.” Tears flooded her eyes and she blinked them away. She flat-out dreaded the day that would happen. She couldn't even imagine loving someone more than Constantine. “All I know for certain is that I've never wanted anyone but you or felt The Inferno with any other man than you. Even so, I can't make any promises for the future.”

He softened ever so slightly. “But then, that's life, isn't it? People fall in love and marry. For some it lasts a lifetime. For others…” He shrugged. “Not so long.”

Now for the tough question. “Do we keep going and see if it'll work for us?” Her throat thickened and she had to force the words out. “Or do we put a stop to it while we still can?”

The question hung between them for a timeless moment. Then, “I can't,” Constantine said. Just those two harsh words, sounding as though they'd been ripped from the deepest part of him. For an instant, her world ended until he added, “I can't let you go.”

She moved without conscious thought, hurling herself into his arms. “Oh, Constantine.”

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.”