by Day Leclaire
Ty froze. Wait one damn minute. Somehow their conversation had taken a bizarre and unexpected turn. Marry him? Marry who? It was as though they spoke in a foreign language, one he’d only just started to learn and couldn’t fully follow. Was this about Gabe Dante? Was the old woman encouraging Lucia to marry him? Dante already had a wife, as well as a newborn. Oh, hell no. That wasn’t happening. Not on his watch.
“He’ll never agree.”
Nonna closed her eyes. “Then you will follow in the footsteps of others who have made the same mistake. May God guide your choice.” She made the sign of the cross, suddenly looking every year her age. “If we don’t speak again, please know I love you.”
More tears rained down on her Lucia’s cheeks. “You sound as though you’re dying.”
“One never knows when it is our time. I may have the eye, but even that door is closed to me. But I can sense—” She broke off and shook her head. “It is time for you to go. Consider what I have said. Consider carefully. You must marry him. It is the only request I will ever make of you, Lucia. You are the last holdout, and the one I worry about most. It will give me such hope for the future if you would do as I ask. Soon, child. I would live long enough to see it done.”
“Yes, Nonna.” Lucia hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed the old woman’s cheek, whispering something beneath her breath.
“Ti amo,” he thought Nonna replied, but he might have misunderstood. The noise surrounding them made it difficult to be certain.
Without a word, Lucia slipped from her chair and darted across the room. He spared Nonna a swift, hard look, then followed, realizing his assignment had decided to escape onto the balcony of the ballroom, flashing million-dollar gemstones like a neon sign reading, “Come mug me.”
He needed to find a way to get her back inside, even if it meant tossing her over his shoulder and forcing her to return. Two minutes. He’d give her two minutes to recover from her conversation with Nonna before he took control of the situation.
He made a quick scan of the balcony, relaxing minutely once he’d confirmed they were alone. Unfortunately, their solitude raised another problem, namely an overpowering desire, one that fogged his mind and attempted to overrun his thought process.
“Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?”
Lucia crossed to the railing and wrapped her arms around her waist, staring out at the city. “I grew up in Seattle. Did I tell you that last night?”
She spoke so quietly, he had to stand directly behind her to catch her words. A spicy-sweet fragrance drifted to him, one that somehow personified her and reminded him of their night together. He drew it into his lungs, shocked by the unexpected visceral connection between her scent and his need for her.
“No, you didn’t mention it.”
“As much as I love Seattle, I have to admit there’s something about San Francisco that’s captured my heart. I wish I could stay here forever. But it would probably be better if I return home.”
His reaction to her words came in an instantaneous wave of shock. No. He almost said the word aloud, clamping down on it at the last minute. She shivered ever so slightly and with a muttered exclamation, Ty stripped off his tux jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“Better?”
She snuggled into the depths and released a sigh of pleasure. “Thank you.”
“What happened back there?” he asked roughly. “What did that old woman say that upset you so much?”
Lucia took several steps away from him. “Don’t call Nonna that.” She turned to face him. “She deserves respect.”
“Not when she reduces you to tears.”
“It wasn’t deliberate. She just offered some home truths.”
“Which were?”
A shaky smile touched her mouth and she lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t you follow any of it?”
“Maybe if she’d said it in Italian. I sure as hell didn’t follow any of it in English.” He planted his fists on his hips. “It sounded a lot like she told you to marry someone or else.”
“She did.”
He closed the distance between them, unaware of how intimidating it might appear until she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Gabe Dante?” he bit out. “Is that who she wants you to marry?”
He barely caught the hitch in her breath at his question. She eased backward and shadows wrapped around her, concealing her expression. Hiding most of her from him. All except her eyes, eyes that had haunted him from the moment he’d first seen her. A band of light cut across the upper half of her face, causing the blaze of blue-green to glitter like the gemstones that drenched her.
“What is going on between you two?” he demanded. “And don’t tell me nothing. I’m a trained observer.”
“Apparently not that well trained,” she retorted.
Anger flared, burning with white-hot insistence. He fought to control it with only limited success. So much for professional detachment. “Just answer my question. What is he to you? Why does Nonna want you to marry him?”
Without a word she approached, two swift steps. The third pitched her into his arms and she wrapped them around his neck. Her mouth closed over his, the kiss devastating in its impact, making him forget everything. Forget their parting. Forget his past. Forget she was a job and he had a responsibility to protect her, not kiss her.
The words sparked to life, more insistent this time. Take. The. Woman. Make her yours.
A tidal wave of desire swamped him, taking him under and rolling him over and over until he no longer knew up from down. Only sensation remained. The need to lift her onto the cold stone balcony railing and shove her skirt up to her waist swept over him. To sink deep into her, pound into her, imprint himself on her so every man who saw her would know without any question or doubt that she belonged to him. That he belonged to her. That they were a mated couple and nothing and no one could come between them.
That if anyone tried, Ty would destroy him.
Some small rational part of him whispered a warning, urged him to back away. To think. Think about . . .
What? What else was there beside this woman, this moment, and the blistering need burning through him?
The job. There was the job he’d been hired to do. He’d put his reputation and integrity on the line, promising to complete that job. And he’d never failed to honor his commitments before, no matter the personal cost.
And there was always a cost. An image of the child he’d almost failed to rescue flashed through his mind. He’d neglected to listen to his instincts then and he’d almost paid with his life. Now his instincts were screaming. This time he’d damn well listen. And it was that hideous memory which finally broke Lucia’s hold over him.
Until he knew the deal between her and Gabe Dante, he refused to allow this to progress any further. Taking a deep breath, he ended the kiss. Wrapping his hands around her wrists, he eased her back, his grip firm and resolute, giving no quarter.
The chilly November air iced the gap between them, cooling the blistering heat. It took her a moment to gather herself, time in which he straightened her clothing, attempting to make her appear as untouched as possible, though one look at her face and anyone with an ounce of awareness would know what they’d been up to. She stared at him, an unmistakable question in her eyes. It almost killed him to answer her, but he had no other choice.
“I’m sorry, no,” he whispered.
“You felt something. I know you did.”
He inclined his head, lying through his teeth, but unwilling—or unable—to admit the truth. “I felt what any man would in a similar situation. Is that what you want? Another one-night stand? You know how the last one ended. I can accommodate you, though not until tonight’s job is complete. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
She jerked backward as though he’d slapped her. “That’s it? That’s all you felt when we kissed?”
Not even close. God help him, but he couldn’t admit as much to
her. Not until he’d had time to figure out what was happening to him. And why. Not to mention, what sort of relationship Lucia and Gabe shared. Didn’t she get it? He was a loner. He wasn’t capable of happily-ever-after and she had fairy tale endings written all over her.
“It was just a kiss,” he said as gently as he could, feeling like the world’s biggest bastard. “I’m not sure what more you want. Granted, it packs one hell of a punch. And if we hadn’t already been down this road, we probably wouldn’t still be standing here discussing it. That doesn’t change the fact I was hired to do a job and I intend to accomplish that job. Then, if you’re still interested, we can try this again in a more private venue.”
“Got it.”
Without another word, she stripped off his jacket and handed it to him. She’d turned into a remote goddess and he suspected tonight would end up being one of the toughest of his existence. He buried a sigh. What he didn’t understand about women could fill volumes. Even so, he didn’t go out of his way to hurt them and he sure as hell had hurt this one. She didn’t deserve it, not after the night they’d shared.
“Lucia—”
She didn’t respond, simply turned on her heel and headed toward the main ballroom. She opened the balcony door and disappeared inside. Ty scrubbed his hands across his face, feeling the unforgiving pull of scarred muscles along his back. He took a deep breath to help regain his calm and followed her. The instant he stepped into the ballroom, he realized he was in deep shit.
Lucia—not to mention her ten-plus million dollars’ worth of diamonds—had disappeared.
Chapter Five
Fool! Idiot! What had gotten into her? How could she be so stupid?
Lucia slipped through the crowd making a beeline for one of several ladies’ rooms in the corridors surrounding the ballroom. She chose the one located in the most secluded of the hallways.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d humiliated herself to this extent. Correction. Yes, she could. It had been with Andrew and she flinched from the memory. At least she hadn’t lost all common sense and begged Ty to love her. Hot tears filled her eyes, threatening to overflow.
She pushed open the bathroom door, relieved beyond measure to discover it empty. For the first time that evening, luck swung in her direction. She crossed to the farthest mirror and set her evening bag on the counter. She studied herself in the mirror for an instant, distressed to see how easily her pain and disillusion could be read in her expression. She’d spent the past decade building barriers to prevent just that. With a single, passionate kiss, not to mention a stinging rejection, Ty had knocked down every last one of those barriers.
Time to regroup and fast. Lucia dropped her clutch containing her apartment key and phone on the counter and washed her hands, the special wedding set she wore flashing with brilliant colors.
Where before, she’d considered it indescribably beautiful, right now it seemed to mock her. The spectacular fire diamonds offered a forever love she’d never experience, echoing the fire of an Inferno that only went one way. As much as she loved these rings, they weren’t the sort she’d have chosen for herself. She preferred something simpler.
Primo had once shown her photographs of his earlier designs, ones he’d created when he’d been intent on building Dantes into the international concern it had become. One set in particular had caught her interest, a lovely combination of wedding and engagement rings, that linked together, entwining love with commitment, symbolizing two separate parts becoming one. They didn’t even appear to be two rings. Primo had shown her an updated version of the pair and the clever way they joined into a seamless whole.
“Before I met Nonna, I apprenticed with my nonno’s cousin in Florence,” Primo had explained. “Because my parents had never married, he refused to give me credit for my designs. Bad for business, he claimed. Our parting was not a good one and even after I immigrated to America, he remained angry for many years.”
“Did you ever reconcile?”
Primo shook his head. “Sadly, we did not. I did reconcile with his grandson, a contemporary of mine who apprenticed at the same time I did. When his son became engaged, I offered to make their wedding set as a way to offer amends and reunite our two families.”
“And they accepted?” she asked, curious. “They didn’t want to make the rings themselves?”
He offered a “what can I say” sort of shrug, along with a broad, sheepish grin. “They did not own the only diamond mine in the world overflowing with fire diamonds.”
“True, but that couldn’t have been the only reason.”
“No, it was not. They, too, wished to make amends, as well as acknowledge that the apprentice had surpassed the master. I called the rings Forever Dante, to remind us all that no matter how many miles separate us or how distant our connection on the family tree, we are Dantes, forever and always.”
“What a lovely story. I’m so glad you were able to repair your differences with your family.”
Dampness touched his golden eyes. “Sadly, the story did not end well. They and their young son were killed not many years later, after emigrating from Italy and becoming proud Americans.”
She inhaled sharply. “Oh, no.”
“That is why we must never waste the time we have been given. To gaze backward and wish ‘if only’ or regret not acting, that is a true sin against the gift of our lives.”
Lucia stared at her image and fought against tears. Fine. She’d done what Primo advised. She’d acted. She’d thrown herself at Ty so she wouldn’t look back with regret. And he’d refused her. Not once, but twice over the last two days. What more could she do? She couldn’t make him love her, any more than she could force him to experience The Inferno.
So, how did she handle Nonna’s demand? Considering what Ty had said, the two of them stood so far apart she didn’t see any chances of finding some middle ground. He’d flat-out rejected her. Worse, he probably thought her crazy.
Well? Wouldn’t she think the same thing if their positions were reversed? She frowned. Hadn’t her brothers and cousins experienced the similar problem with their Inferno mates? How had they overcome their issues? How had they convinced their future partners that The Inferno existed?
Of course, it helped that both Dante and soul mate had felt the burn. Unfortunately, Ty hadn’t. If it weren’t for Nonna, she’d chalk the whole thing up to a misfire. To wishful thinking or imagination or desperation. But her grandmother insisted that she and Ty belonged together. If you wish to become a Dante, you must marry him. Lucia compressed her mouth, fighting the hurt that swept through her. They’d never made conditions like that on her brother, Gabe. Why her?
A hard pounding sounded at the door of the ladies’ room. “Time to get back to the gala, Lucia.”
She spared a swift glance toward the door and frowned, wondering how he’d managed to find her. Not that it mattered. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, though if she could stay in here forever, she would. That didn’t change one basic fact. Just like Ty, she’d been asked to model the New Beginnings collection, the most spectacular and costly one to date, and that’s what she’d do. She might not have been hired for the job, but she’d agreed to do it, nonetheless.
Maybe she should also take the New Beginnings name to heart and stop her endless equivocation. When she returned to work on Monday, she’d have a heart-to-heart with Primo and confess her identity. She’d stop hovering on the outside, wishing she belonged, and walk through the door. Either they accepted her, welcomed her, came to love her as much as she loved them, or they wouldn’t. But she’d never know until she tried.
Of course, that still left her problem with Ty. Maybe Primo could help with that, too. After washing her hands, she selected a cotton hand towel from the small woven basket centered on the counter. Dampening it with cold water, she touched the cloth to her temples and the side of her throat.
A muffled scream penetrated the quiet elegance of the ladies’ room and Lucia
’s head swiveled toward the door. Had someone actually screamed? An instant later, more screams joined the first, along with loud explosive pops. Before she could move, the door burst inward and Ty sprinted into the room. Even more alarming, he held a huge, matte black pistol.
“We have to move. Now.”
Endless questions bubbled through her and even though she desperately wanted to ask them, one look at his expression kept her silent. She snatched up her handbag and joined him by the door. He eased it open and checked the corridor that paralleled the ballroom. More, far louder pops reverberated nearby, coming from one end of the hallway. Ty grabbed her wrist and swept her in front of him and away from the screams and shouts.
She risked a single question, though deep down, she already knew the answer. She simply hoped against hope he’d give the response she really wanted to hear versus the truth. “Is that gunfire?”
“Yes.”
She fought against the fear bubbling through her. It urged her to freeze. To hide. To run. Each emotion conflicted with the others. And then her thoughts flashed to her family and her fear took on a new, more overwhelming dimension.
Right before the end of the corridor, Ty paused. Two huge doors led into the far end of the ballroom, closest to the balcony. He tucked her tight against his back and edged open the closest door, taking a swift, assessing look around. The screams and shouts increased in volume.
“Listen to me, Lucia.” He spoke low and fast. “We’re going to enter the ballroom through this door. Keep down and remain in front of me. We’re going to immediately exit onto the balcony. It’s the reverse of the route you took to get to the ladies’ room. There are steps on either side of the balcony. Get to the steps as quickly as you can. If for some reason I’m not still with you—”
“You mean, if you get shot,” she interrupted, fighting to keep the panic from her voice.
“If for any reason, I’m not with you, do not return to the ballroom. Don’t argue, just do what I tell you,” he stressed. “Go down the stairs, into the hotel, and out the nearest exit. Do you understand?”