Forever Dante: Lucia (The Dante Dynasty Series: Book #11): The Dante Inferno

by Day Leclaire

  Ty swore.

  “Unless you want a smack to the back of the head, I wouldn’t let Primo hear you say that.” Sev’s smile faded, replaced with compassion. “Good luck, sis.”

  She caught her lip between her teeth. Then without a word she rushed across the room and gave Sev a long, hard hug. “There’s no time to talk now,” she whispered. “Just know that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  He rubbed her back. “It’s okay. We know now, and we’ll definitely make time for a sit down later. Hang in there, Lucia.”

  The door opened again and Primo stood there. He appeared to have aged half a century since Ty last saw him. A stark white bandage covered one side of his forehead and he clutched a cane, leaning heavily on it. “Vieni con me, per favore,” he murmured, as though too exhausted to even attempt his request in English.

  “He wants us to go with him,” Ty interpreted.

  Without a word, Lucia crossed to her grandfather and took his hand in hers. In a simple, infinitely loving gesture, she lifted his gnarled fingers to her lips and tenderly kissed them. Tears streaked down his weathered face and he gathered her close. “Mia cara nipote.”

  No question, the cat was definitely out of the bag. Ty wondered who had revealed her true identity? Gabe? Nonna, herself? Or possibly the police. Not that it mattered. The fact that the Dantes accepted her so openly and with such generosity filled him with relief.

  Primo escorted them down a short corridor and through a sliding door into a small cubicle. Nonna lay there, hooked to endless machines, all blipping and beeping. No breathing tube, he noted, an encouraging sign. Lucia instantly crossed to sit on the edge of the bed and took her grandmother’s hand in hers.

  Ty gazed at the woman lying there. She appeared so tiny and helpless. A halo of soft, white curls surrounded her head, most of them confined to a long braid someone had threaded with a decorative ribbon. Her face was as white as Lucia’s, throwing into prominence her delicate bone structure. And that’s when it struck him.

  “Lucia looks just as my sweet Julietta did when I first set eyes on her,” Primo said in a gruff whisper, apparently reading Ty’s mind. “Her hair was long, as well, tumbling past her hips in curls that were every shade of brown known to man. She was a tiny Venus. Perfection given life.”

  “You know who Lucia is.”

  Primo chuckled, a mere shadow of his usual laugh. “Always. From the moment my nipote walked into my office for the interview, I knew who she must be. It was my bride, young once more. If not for the eyes, I would have sworn she was my Nonna. And the look in my poor granddaughter’s gaze. Such a tragic combination of hope and suspicion, anger and longing. So, I played her game and waited. I think she was close, yes?” His face crumbled. “Close to confessing her true identity.”

  “Very close.” He had no idea if it were true. The need to console outweighed the harm of such a small lie. “We were told Nonna has a request.”

  “Hear me, boy.” Primo suddenly turned on him, his unexpected aggression catching Ty off guard. The old man switched to Italian, a lion defending his pride, his voice so soft Ty could barely make out the words. But the sheer ferocity came through as though he shouted. “You will honor this request my Nonna makes. You will do as she asks, do you understand me?”

  “What is her request?”

  Primo hacked a hand through the air. “No! There is to be no discussion. No hesitation. She will ask, you will agree. After . . .” He swallowed, his words faltering for the first time. “After we will negotiate, if we must. “Capisci?”

  “Capisco.”

  Primo approached the bed, making heavy use of his cane. He gently stroked Nonna’s hair. “Amore mio, Lucia is here, my precious one.”

  Nonna’s lashes fluttered, and her gaze drifted toward Primo. A wealth of love filled her hazel eyes. She murmured something too soft to hear, but whatever she said had Primo wiping a tear from his cheek. Ty felt like an intruder, even more so when Nonna turned and squeezed Lucia’s hand.

  “You came,” she said simply.

  Lucia leaned in, brushing her lips across the pale, paper-thin curve of Nonna’s cheek. “Of course I came. I will always come whenever you call me.”

  The older woman struggled to catch her breath, gathering her fading energy. “I made a request of you at the gala.” Lucia’s eyes widened in alarm and Ty froze, fighting the instinct to cross to her side and protect her. Protect her from what? A dying woman lying in a hospital bed? “Do not pretend with me, child. You remember the request.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Nonna glanced toward Ty. “I wish to see the two of you wed before my life ends.”

  “Married?” At Ty’s unthinking question, Primo shifted, the lion stirring.

  “Here in this room.” Her hand swept across the thin sheet and blanket covering her, her fingers plucking at the folds. “As soon as it can be arranged.”

  “They will marry in just a few short hours,” Primo spoke before anyone else could. He shot Ty a hard look. “Your appointment to pick up your license to marry, it is in an hour.”

  Regardless of his preferences, Ty couldn’t argue, just couldn’t. The fact that he’d been backed into a corner didn’t matter. Whether or not he wanted to marry or preferred to remain a lone wolf didn’t matter. The speed and recklessness of the marriage didn’t even matter. The bottom line was, he couldn’t bring himself to break the heart of a dying woman.

  “We won’t be late,” he stated with false calm.

  “You will return here as soon as you have the license. Our priest will be waiting to conduct the service.”

  Ty lifted an eyebrow. “He’s agreed to do it at the hospital?”

  Primo shrugged. “He has known the family for a very long time. He will make an exception for us.”

  “That’s some pull.”

  “Yes. I have some pull.” He glanced down at Nonna and frowned. Her eyes had fluttered closed and her breathing grew fast and shallow. “She needs her rest. We will see you in a few hours.”

  “We’ll be back as quickly as possible,” Ty promised.

  Juice arranged for them to have an escort on their drive to the courthouse, just as a precaution. Ty couldn’t decide whether to be amused or concerned. Since he wasn’t allowed to bring his weapon into the government building, he stowed it in the glove compartment. With Juice parked directly behind him, it should be safe enough.

  He glanced at Lucia. “Are you ready to do this?”

  “I was going to ask you the same question.” She moistened her lips. “Ty—”

  “Yes, we do.”

  She blinked. “We do?”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel of the Jeep. “Yes, we do need to go through with the marriage.”

  “Okay.” She shot him an apprehensive glance. “Why?”

  “You know why.” He shot her a fierce look. “For God’s sake, Lucia, it’s her dying wish. You think I’m going to refuse your grandmother’s dying wish? No way. I won’t have that hanging over my head.”

  She sighed. “I would understand if you did refuse. After all, she’s not your grandmother. You don’t owe the Dantes anything.”

  Fury shot through him and he struggled to tamp it down. “You’d understand my being a total bastard? Just great. Should I be flattered?”

  She clutched her hands in her lap. “You know I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispered.

  His anger dissipated as quickly as it had flared. This wasn’t her fault and he shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know, I know.” He turned toward her, struggling to understand. “Listen, we have a few minutes before our appointment. Let’s talk about this. Nonna said she made a request at the gala. And I overheard her talking about marriage. Care to fill me in?”

  “You thought she was talking about Gabe.”

  His mouth curved up at one corner. “Not Gabe, I assume.”

  She laughed, though a hint of strain threaded through the sound. “Definitely not Gabe.”<
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  “She was talking about me.”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why? Why would she insist you marry me? It doesn’t make any sense. I never met her before that night at the gala. Yet, she shakes my hand and informs you that we have to marry? That’s insane.”

  Nerves tripped over her features, alarm combined with reluctance. She didn’t want to answer his question, and he realized they should have discussed this long ago. Maybe they would have, if the time since the gala hadn’t sent them spinning from one crisis to the next.

  “Answer me, Lucia.” The request—order—came out sharper than he’d intended, but it had the desired effect.

  She snatched a swift breath and confessed, “Nonna realized I’d experienced The Inferno with you and she insisted we marry.”

  Lucia darted Ty a swift glance, flinching from his reaction. He appeared both outraged and shocked. Worse, he clearly didn’t believe a word of it. She dug her thumb into her palm, feeling the familiar itch and burn centered there.

  “How?” he demanded. “How did she know?”

  She shook her head, helpless to explain it. “I have no idea. I never said anything about The Inferno when we first met. I hadn’t even told her about our relationship, what little there was at the time.”

  “And yet, she knew all of those things.” He ticked the points off on his finger. “She knew you were her granddaughter although, based on what Primo told me, it wasn’t as big a secret as you thought.”

  “Say what?” Shocked, she could only stare for a moment. “Primo knew? How is that even possible?”

  “Apparently, you look just like Nonna did at your age. He said he recognized you the moment you walked into his office.”

  Lucia took a moment to digest that. “My grandparents are absolutely amazing.”

  She barely stumbled over the reference, unused to claiming their relationship. Now that she’d said the word aloud, it resonated, sliding deep inside and taking root. Ty continued to tick off his points.

  “She knew you’d experienced The Inferno. She even knew I was your supposed Inferno mate. Explain it to me, Lucia.”

  “I know, I know,” she moaned. “It sounds crazy when you list it like that.”

  “Why was she pushing so hard for marriage? Why is she still pushing?”

  Lucia tucked her hair behind her ears, amazed it hadn’t knotted into a tangled mess, especially since it hadn’t seen so much as a drizzle of conditioner in days. “I think she’s pushing because of my parents. When Nonna and I spoke at the gala, she reminded me of their experience with The Inferno, that they didn’t marry when it struck. She didn’t want the same thing to happen to us.”

  “How did she know about us?” he repeated.

  “I told you. She has the eye.”

  He rubbed his face with both hands, for the first time betraying a hint of exhaustion. Not surprising considering all that had happened over the course of the past few days. Especially considering how little sleep they’d gotten the last two nights. To her relief, his anger seemed to have faded, not that the small explosion had frightened her.

  The realization caught her off guard. She’d never once questioned her safety during her time with him, and she doubted she ever would. He didn’t rouse that instinctive flight or fight response that had defined her life with Andrew. Just the opposite, in fact. If she ever felt afraid, Ty would be the first person she turned to.

  “I gotta tell you, your family is a bit nutty,” he said after a moment.

  “Yeah, I’d like to argue that, but I can’t.”

  “So, Nonna has the eye. And her eye told her you’d experienced The Inferno with me. You realize how crazy all that sounds?”

  Lucia flipped up her hand and pointed to the stylistic reddish-purple “half-moon” decorating the center of her palm. “Talk to me about crazy. I dare you.”

  “Touché.” His cell chimed and he glanced at it, blowing out an exasperated sigh. He opened his text app and thumbed a rapid response. “Juice. He wants to know—and I quote—what the effing hell are you two doing? Quit stalling or I’m under orders to escort you inside, personally. Bruises will be involved if I have to get out of this mfing car.”

  Lucia peered over his shoulder, her eyebrows climbing upward. “If Primo saw that, he’d have a few choice words with Juice over his language.”

  “I don’t think it’s Juice who’d be the subject of Primo’s wrath,” he said drily.

  “Good point.” She spared him a swift, nervous glance. “So, are we going through with this or not?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, we’re going through with this.”

  “So, forward?”

  “Forward.” He spared a glance in his rearview mirror. “Though, I have a funny feeling Juice would love it if I made him get out of his mfing car. Have you seen the size of his fists?”

  “They’re impressive.” She patted his hand, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Yours are fairly impressive, too. They may not be as big as Juice’s, but I’m sure they’re plenty big enough.”

  He slanted her an amused glance at the teasing reassurance. “Even so, I’d rather not be on the wrong side of Juice’s meathooks.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

  He slammed her with a single look. “That is definitely not happening. You’re not coming between me and Juice. Ever,” he emphasized. “Or anyone else, for that matter. It’s my job to keep you safe, not the other way around.”

  She pretended to shiver. “I just love it when you go all Tarzan on me.”

  “No problem. If you want some Tarzan action, just wait until tonight.”

  “Our wedding night.” The words escaped without thought, and they both glanced in the direction of the courthouse building.

  For some reason, the description didn’t rouse the dread he anticipated. Up until now, he’d always considered matrimony a bit of a trap. This time, the thought filled him with a far different emotion. Something to consider further. Not now. Maybe not for another couple years. On second thought, maybe he wouldn’t think about it at all. If he’d learned one thing in the military it was not to spend too much time anticipating what couldn’t be controlled or changed. The only way through was through.

  “Come on. Juice is stirring. Let’s disappoint him.”

  It didn’t take them long to find the appropriate office and fill out the papers required by the city clerk. As soon as they paid for the license, Ty steered them out of the building and back to the Wrangler. “We have one more stop before returning to the hospital.”

  “What’s that?”

  He took a moment to research where they could find what they needed and texted Juice their next location, as well as a single wedding request. Satisfied, he glanced at Lucia, finally answering her question.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not get married in jeans. I found a local place where we can get something better suited to a wedding.”

  A faint flush touched her cheeks. “Thank you. That’s really thoughtful.”

  “No problem.”

  “All part of the hero package?”

  “You got it.” He started the car and put it in gear. “We can negotiate any surcharge later tonight.”

  Was she blushing? She touched her heated cheeks. Yeah, she was blushing.

  The store he’d chosen offered a his and hers section and while the attendant ushered him in one direction, Lucia headed in the other, disappearing behind racks of lace, silk, and tulle. Every once in a while, he’d catch the sound of a laugh or an excited, “oooh!” or eager chatter between her and the saleswomen. Then silence. Prolonged silence.

  Ty checked the fit of his suit in the mirror. Satisfied, he crossed the no man’s land between the two sides of the boutique and stopped dead in his tracks. Lucia stood on a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror, her back to him. They’d gathered her hair at the nape of her neck in a complicated series of braids and loops he longed
to unknot.

  She wore a rich cream colored, three-quarters length dress that fit from bodice to hips, then fell to her calves in soft, loose pleats. The back dipped low, baring her gorgeous spine. But the pièce de résistance was the waist-long beaded necklace that encircled her throat and then draped backward, down the curve of her dress to caress her supple back, twitching and flirting with her every move.

  She turned to face him and his hands clenched into fists. Dear God.

  The dress clung and clung and clung, making him long to explore every inch of the path it traversed from fragile collarbone to rounded hips. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone more stunning. Mine. Take her. Take the woman. Oh, hell, yeah, he told the voice. I’m going to take her. He crossed to stand in front of her and held out his hand. She slipped hers into his and shuddered.

  “Hearing voices?” he asked with a knowing smile.

  “Oh, hell, yeah,” she said, parroting his thoughts.

  She smiled with such radiance, it knocked every thought from his head except one. To pull her into his arms and never let her go. “Ready to get married, Lucia Moretti?” He deliberately omitted her bastard ex’s name.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m ready. What about you?”

  He waited for any sense of hesitation or opposition. Considering the marriage had been forced on them, it wouldn’t be surprising. Instead of resistance, an odd urgency filled him.

  “All set,” he announced. After arranging for payment, he escorted her to the door. “Let’s get back to the hospital.”

  He helped her into the passenger seat, checking to make sure her dress didn’t hang outside the door. Circling the Wrangler, he climbed behind the wheel. He spared a swift glance in his rearview mirror to make sure Juice was still with him. Satisfied, he pulled into traffic and worked his way back to the hospital.

  The car that hit them came out of nowhere. Just before their turn into the hospital parking lot, it slammed into the rear driver’s door and whirled them around in two full 360s. Even as the car spun, Ty grappled for the glove compartment and his gun. The Wrangler hadn’t come to a full stop before he had his gun in hand and a round chambered. The next instant, he dove from the car and vaulted over the hood, to snatch at Lucia’s door.