Read Dante's Ultimate Gamble Online

Authors: Day Leclaire

Dante's Ultimate Gamble (2 page)

“Funny,” Luc muttered. “Considering what happened just five minutes ago, I’d say that was precisely what you need.”

She waved that aside. “It could have happened to anyone. Besides, he would have missed me.”

It took Luc a split second to find his voice. “Have you lost your mind?”

She patted his arm, then snatched her hand away. Maybe it had something to do with the arc of electricity that flashed between them. Or the throb that shot through the palm of his hand and quite probably her own. With each new touch, whatever existed between them grew stronger, the tendrils binding tighter and more completely. It gave him some measure of satisfaction to see that it took her several seconds to recover her poise sufficiently to speak. During the few moments of silence the waiter approached and deposited their luncheon choices. He didn’t linger.

“You played the hero quite well and I appreciate your efforts on my behalf,” Téa said in a stilted voice. She splashed some oil and vinegar on her salad. “But the cab swerved at the last second.”

He leaned in, emphasizing each word with a steak fry. “Which gave me just the extra time and room I needed to keep you from getting clipped by his bumper and turned into roadkill.” He popped the fry into his mouth. “He would have hit you if I hadn’t pulled you clear.”

“Luciano…” Nonna murmured.

He glanced first at his grandmother and then at Madam. They both wore identical expressions, a wrenching combination of fear and shock. Not cool, he realized. He’d way overplayed his hand. He pulled back and gathered Madam’s hand within his own.

“She’s safe and I promise I’ll keep her that way.”

“Thank you.” Tears flooded her dark eyes. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“Wait a minute,” Téa interrupted. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

He shot her a quelling look. Not that she quelled, which amused almost as much as it frustrated him. He excelled at quell. Any of the men who served beneath him or currently worked with him could attest to that simple fact. “Not even for your grandmother’s peace of mind?” he asked.

It was her turn to be both amused and frustrated. “Oh, very good,” she murmured. “Very clever.”

“You will agree, won’t you, Téa?” Madam’s request sounded more like a demand. “It will make all of us feel so much better. Juliann can concentrate on her wedding. Davida can focus on her studies. And Katrina can…” She hesitated, clearly at a loss.

“Can continue getting into trouble?” Téa inserted dryly.

“She means well,” Madam said with a sigh. “She’s just a magnet for disaster.”

As though to underscore the comment, Téa’s handbag began to chirp again. A youthful, feminine voice demanded, “Answer me. Answer me. Answer me, me,
me!
” Téa smiled blandly. “Speak of the devil.”

“So we agree.” Luc struggled to be heard over the shrill tones of another ringtone as it added its per
sonalized demand to the first. “I’m your baby—” He cleared his throat. “Your bodyguard for the next six weeks?”

She wanted to argue some more. He suspected the trait was as much a part of her as her red hair. He lifted an eyebrow in Madam’s direction and waited, not a bit surprised when Téa caved. “Fine.” She lowered her voice so only he could hear. “And don’t think I missed that babysitter slip.”

He kept his expression unreadable. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Reaching into the bag, she went through each of her three phones and set them on vibrate. Lunch proceeded at a leisurely pace after that and he noticed with some amusement that everyone went out of their way to stick to innocuous topics. Schooling himself to patience, he guided the women through the conversation and the meal, before he could finally pick up the check and pay for their lunch. All the while he watched Téa.

Although she chatted with the grandmothers, Luc could tell that her thoughts were elsewhere. He could practically see the wheels spinning away, analyzing her problem—
him
—while searching for a satisfactory solution.

“Figured it out, yet?” he asked in an amused undertone.

She stared blankly. “Figured what out?”

“What you’re going to do about me.”

“Not quite.” Then she hesitated and a hint of relief caused her eyes to glitter like gemstones. He didn’t need the blazing light bulb that flashed over her head to tell him that she’d come up with a plan to escape her predicament. “Madam, quick question…”

“Yes, dear?”

“How are we compensating Mr. Dante for his time and expertise?” She actually smiled at Madam’s small inhalation of alarm. “Bodyguards don’t come cheap. And you know we’re under serious budgetary constraints for the next six weeks.”

“Well, I—”

“Didn’t Nonna explain?” Luc offered smoothly. “Consider it your twenty-fifth birthday present from all the Dantes.”

“How generous.” He could hear the grit through the politeness. “But I couldn’t possibly accept such an expensive gift.”

He allowed irony to slide through his words. “No, no. Don’t thank us. It’s our pleasure. Besides, babysitters charge far less than bodyguards. Even if you were to refuse, it wouldn’t cost you much at all to hire me.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we continue this meeting in private in order to settle the particulars?”

“Excellent suggestion,” she replied crisply and gathered up her briefcase and shoulder bag. “My office?”

Not private enough for what he had in mind. Not nearly private enough. “I have an apartment close by.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Ignoring her, he gave Nonna and Madam each a kiss. Then draping a powerful arm around Téa’s shoulders, he swept her from the restaurant. A cab lingered just outside the door and he bundled her inside, protesting all the way. He gave the driver the address to his apartment complex and settled back against the seat.

All the while, Téa bristled with feminine outrage. With her rioting red curls and flashing eyes she looked like a cat who’d been rubbed the wrong way. He couldn’t quite help taking a certain pleasure in having upset her
tidy little world. Considering the ease with which she’d upended his, it seemed only fair.

The cab had barely pulled away from the curb before she started protesting. “I have to get back to work. I don’t have time for this. I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, Luciano Dante, but I’m not in the mood for it.”

“I’m giving our grandmothers what they asked for. If I can spare six weeks out of my life to make sure you reach twenty-five, you can put up with having me around.”

“Well, shoot.”

He’d clearly gotten her with that one. She took a moment to call the office and inform them of her change in schedule before turning her jumble of cell phones from vibrate to ring, meticulously checking each for messages before stowing it away. Not that she was through arguing. Not this one.

The minute she finished fussing with her phones, she pushed a tumble of curls from her eyes and glared at him. “And another thing… What was that weird zap you gave to me when we first shook hands?”

He gave an “I’m clueless” shrug, hoping it would satisfy. It didn’t.

“Don’t give me that. I’ve heard that you Dantes have some bizarre touch thing you use on women. It knocks them right off their feet and into your bed.” A sudden thought struck and her eyes widened. “Is that what you have planned with me?”

Two

“D
o you want me to zap you into my bed?” Luc pretended not to notice the cab driver’s shocked gaze darting to the rearview mirror.

“No! Of course not.”

“Too bad. I’d give it a try even though…” He allowed a hint of bewilderment to drift across his face and lied through his teeth. “To be honest, Téa, I have no idea what sort of bizarre touch thing you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that.” She brushed his denial aside with a graceful sweep of her hand. “Rumors have been flying all over the city about your cousins and how they acquired their wives.”

Luc’s eyes narrowed. Heaven help him. The woman was like a dog with a bone. He wasn’t accustomed to people arguing with him. Damn it. Didn’t she know she should be intimidated? That when he spoke others leaped to obey? Why the hell wasn’t she leaping? “I would have
thought you too intelligent to give credence to a bunch of lurid gossip magazines, like
The Snitch
.”

A hint of telltale color underscored the delicate arch of her cheekbones. “It wasn’t just the rags. I believe that whole Dante thing was demonstrated on television with Marco’s wife.”

He dismissed that with a shrug. “Easily explained.”

“I’m listening. Explain away,” she challenged.

Son of a— “A publicity stunt. Marco and Caitlyn were married. Of course she’d recognize her husband, even blindfolded.”

He didn’t need to see Téa’s skeptical expression to know she wasn’t buying it. “And that weird electrical shock we experienced? Or do you try that with every woman just to see how she’ll react?”

“That’s never happened to me,” he admitted.

She honed in and Luc began to understand what Nonna had meant about her being focused, though he’d call it borderline obsessive. “What was it? What caused it?”

“Static electricity.”

“That was
not
static electricity.”

As far as Luc was concerned, they’d given their driver more than enough entertainment. “We’ll discuss it when we get to my place,” he said, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. It didn’t.

“I’d like to know now,” she insisted.

“We’ll wait.” He inclined his head in the direction of the cabbie and gave her a pointed look. “Until then, tell me what you do for a living.”

She turned her gaze toward the front seat, blinked, then smoothly switched gears. “I work for Bling.” It was a nickname for Billings, who supplied the Dantes
Jewelry empire with their gold and silver needs. “Actually, I sort of own it.”

Interesting. “Sort of?” he prompted.

“My grandfather, Daniel Billings, left it to me when he died a few months ago.”

“That’s your mother’s father?” he hazarded a guess.

“No. Mom was married to Danny Billings—Daniel’s son—who was killed in a plane wreck when I was a baby. Then, when I turned nine she married my father—my stepfather,” Téa clarified. “That’s when we were at the lake with Madam. Mom and Dad were on their honeymoon. We de Lucas are a blended family. My sisters are his and I’m hers, but we became theirs and us and ours. All de Lucas in the end with a bit of Billings thrown in for good measure.”

The pieces came together. “Got it. Téa seems a rather unusual name for a Billings. Actually it sounds more Italian.”

“It comes from a Billings ancestor from way back when. Téadora. It became tradition that the first daughter of the eldest son be given that name.”

He tilted his head to one side. “It suits. Or at least, the shortened version does.”

“Thanks.”

“And you take control of your Billings inheritance in six weeks.”

She nodded. “Until then I’m learning the ropes.”

A soft bell rang in the back of his head, just the vaguest of alarms. “Who’s running the show while you learn the ropes?”

“My second cousin, Conway Billings.”

“And if something happens to you before you turn twenty-five?”

She turned her megawatt smile on him again, nearly blowing his circuits offline. “You think my cousin’s out to do me in?” she teased.

He took the question seriously. “You’d be amazed what people will do for money. Trust me. I’ve seen it all.”

“Not Connie.”

“Connie?”

Téa lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “That’s what everyone calls Conway. As a bodyguard, you’re probably used to looking for trouble, even where it doesn’t exist. But that’s not the case with me.”

She patted his arm in a reassuring manner, the same as she had at the restaurant, then once again whipped back her hand. He found the idea of anyone attempting to reassure
him
disconcerting. It had always been the other way around. She rubbed the surface of her palm as though it itched or tingled, and he wondered if she even noticed her actions. It took every ounce of self-control not to imitate her gesture. Snatching a quick breath, she glanced out the window.

“Are we almost there?”

“Almost.” And it wouldn’t be a minute too soon. “Tell me about these accidents you’re experiencing.”

“I’m not experiencing any accidents.” That brilliant smile flashed again. “I’m experiencing a failure to walk and talk at the same time.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come across a recruit with that problem. He’d get her straightened out soon enough. “You’re a klutz.”

Her breath escaped in a sigh. “I wish I could deny it. But that’s pretty close to the truth. I guess I’m distracted.”

“Because of your financial problems?” he hazarded a guess.

“That’s part of it. I’m also struggling to learn everything I possibly can before I take over Bling. I never expected to inherit the place, so it hasn’t been easy,” she confessed. “There’s a lot to learn that wasn’t covered in my business degree at Stanford.”

“And you’re certain that Connie doesn’t have a hidden agenda to ensure you don’t make it to twenty-five?”

No hesitation. “I’m positive. He’s actually planning to start his own business as soon as I’m able to take over the reins. He can’t wait to get out from under his responsibilities.”

The cab pulled up just then and Luc handed over the fare. Then he led the way up the front steps of the apartment complex to the door. He swept his keycard across the lock and gestured her in. They crossed the foyer and he rang for the elevator. The doors slid open almost immediately and he used his card again to access the top floor. The instant they were enclosed within the suffocating confines of the car, Téa returned to their earlier topic of conversation.

“So now we’re alone,” she began.

“We are.”

Ignoring proper elevator etiquette, she turned to confront him. “Tell me why we keep getting zapped every time we touch. What’s going on?”

He watched the digital numbers tick off one by one. After all,
someone
had to follow proper protocol, especially if it helped him keep his hands to himself. “Magnetic attraction?”

“Not a chance.”

“My electric personality?”

She dismissed the suggestion with a delicate snort.

He allowed the silence to consume them while the elevator finished its ascent. The doors slid open directly into the foyer of his suite and she stepped out of the car before freezing. “Good Lord, is all this yours?”

“Yes.”

To his relief, her interest in his living accommodations sidelined her questions about The Inferno. “You live here alone?”

“I’m a bit of a hermit.” At least, these days he was.

She took her time looking around, examining the Spartan interior, the over-the-top electronics, and the smattering of photos from family gatherings on his walls that offered a few reluctant peeks into his past. She studied each in turn. First the ones of his Dante-filled childhood and those carefree years of raw emotion and puppylike wildness. Then the group shot of his unit revealing his transition to manhood—as evidenced by his uniform and military bearing—with its loss of innocence and rendering of character and spirit until all that remained was sheer grit and the drive to survive. Where life ended or continued based on a confusing combination of fate and experience. And finally, the professional man and the men who’d worked with him, the lone wolf standing ever so slightly apart from the others, who still carried the taint and scars of what had gone before, closed now to the emotional openness of youth. Innocence twisted to cynicism. Joy and hope tempered by reality. Normal, everyday dreams for the future layered beneath caution.

She took it all in, absorbed it without a word, then moved on. And yet, he saw the comprehension in her gaze and realized she understood what so few others had when they’d looked at all those group shots. She’d seen the emotions that existed behind the two-dimensional
photos, seen his pain, as well as his determination. She wandered deeper into his sanctuary, forcing him to regard it with fresh eyes. The place would have come across as too austere if not for the warm redwood trim that accented the twenty-five-foot ceilings and the parts of the floor not covered by carpet. She paused in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the spectacular view of the bay they afforded with a deeply appreciative expression. Apparently she approved of the uncluttered look. Somehow that didn’t surprise him.

Nor did it surprise him when she gathered herself up and transitioned back to business. “Okay, time for answers,” she announced, swiveling to face him. “Before we discuss this bodyguard business, I want to know one thing.”

“Funny. So do I.”

He approached, impressed that she simply stood and waited for him. Allowed him to reach for her. To take her hands in his while desire exploded around them and through them.

“What is that?” she whispered, dazed.


That
is Dante’s Inferno. Which, if I’m not mistaken, means we’re both condemned to hell.”

Not giving her time to react, he swept her into his arms and kissed her.

Violent heat flashed through Téa, mercurial swift and burning with white-hot need, making her forget her responsibility to her family—something that hadn’t happened since she was sixteen. Her reaction to him was identical to when he’d first taken her hand, igniting where their lips melded, the fit sheer perfection. It flashed downward to the pit of her stomach and lower still until the feminine core of her throbbed with the urge to join with this man. It raced through her, tripping
over sense and emotion, instinct and logic, turning every part of her inside out and upside down. And still it didn’t stop.

The desperation grew so intense that if he stretched her out on the floor of his foyer, she would have allowed him to strip away her clothing and lose himself in her. Just the thought of having him on her, in her, over and around her, joined with her in the most intimate way possible… She shuddered.

“Luc…” His name escaped on a sigh, became part of the kiss, greedily consumed.

His mouth slipped from hers, following the line of her throat, scalding the sensitive skin as he drifted relentlessly downward. Somehow the buttons of her blouse had escaped their holes. The edges of the crisp material separated, giving him access to explore the gentle swells rising above the lacy cups of her bra.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen skin like yours before. So pale.” He trailed a string of kisses along the demarcation line of silken skin and protective lace. “It seems such a cliché to say it’s like cream.”

She laughed softly. “Not magnolia blossoms?”

He spared her a swift grin, though his eyes remained a shocking molten gold, flaming with a passion unlike anything she’d seen before. “Definitely magnolia blossoms. Only softer.”

She didn’t know what had gotten into her. This wasn’t like her at all. Not the joking. Certainly not the lovemaking. But one touch from Luciano Dante and she tumbled. Her cell phones began to ring and chirp and plead, and with an exclamation of impatience, Luc opened one of the doors leading off the foyer—a coat closet—and shoved her handbag and briefcase inside.

It gave her just enough time for her head to clear.
“Wait, Luc.” Those cell phones were her lifeline. They were a vital link that kept her grounded and connected to her family. Besides, she owed them. She couldn’t allow this sort of selfish distraction. “Those calls could be important.”

“There’s nothing more important than this…”

He pulled her close and all coherent thought vanished. How did he manage to do that, when she’d always been so careful with her priorities? Maybe it was because she’d never known real desire before. Not like this. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to avoid it.

Family always came first. Duty and responsibility had been her obsession ever since the death of her parents. She didn’t dare let down her guard and surrender to her baser desires. Not since that one hideous occasion when she’d done just that and her world had come crashing down around her.

She’d learned her lesson well that night. From that moment on, taking care of her family was her life. Her obligation. Nothing else came ahead of that one crucial demand. Nothing. At least… Nothing until Luciano Dante exploded into her world and—with a single touch, palm against palm—short-circuited every last rational thought but one.

She wanted this man. Needed him. For so many years she’d been the one in control. The steady one. The one who looked after her family and protected them. She couldn’t and wouldn’t indulge her own selfish interest until she’d accomplished that. Once she received her inheritance, she’d be in an even better position to care for her family, instead of constantly scrambling to make ends meet.

But with that one shocking touch, Luc took that burden from her. It vanished from thought and awareness,
replaced by a passion she’d never experienced, never even knew existed until he’d shown her the stunning possibilities.

His mouth covered hers again, inhaling her, and she simply tumbled. Duty and responsibility floated away, as did reason and intellect. All that remained was a shattering. Intense. Unspeakable. All consuming.

Without breaking the kiss, Luc swept Téa into his arms. She had the sensation of movement from living room to bedroom—a light floating, then a gentle descent, the softest of cushions at her back when they sank into the mattress and a blazing heat that blanketed her. It settled over her, pressing into her, molding hard, powerful angles against the soft, willing give of her body.

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