“After a few winters of being stuck in the house with no way to get out of the valley for several weeks at a time, my mom found it intolerable.” He gave her a sad smile. “You know, I can’t remember a night when she was still with us that I didn’t lie awake listening to her beg my dad to sell the ranch or, later on, threaten to leave if he didn’t.”
“Oh, Shane, I’m sorry,” Melissa said. “That’s why you kept warning me about being snowbound, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “I wanted you to know up front what you were getting yourself into.”
“Your mother wasn’t from around here, was she?” she asked suddenly.
“No, she was from somewhere in Florida,” he said, looking puzzled. “But why does that matter?”
“Because she wasn’t used to the type of weather we have here.” Melissa wasn’t excusing the woman’s behavior, but she was certain the differences in climates had to have come as quite a shock. “I grew up here. I’m used to deep snows and the difficulties that poses to traveling. She wasn’t.”
Shane seemed to mull that over a moment before he nodded. “You might be right about that. But it doesn’t excuse her from leaving her husband and son and never looking back.”
“You never saw her again?”
“No. I was notified a few years ago that she had been killed in a car accident.”
Melissa could understand a child not seeing their mother due to death. Her own mother had died of cancer when she was two and she’d known Margaret Jarrod only through the pictures her father had kept. But how could a mother willingly walk away from her child and never contact him again?
“How old were you the last time you saw her?” she asked.
“Nine.” He met her gaze head-on, and she could tell that he was still haunted by the abandonment. “But I actually lost two parents that day.”
“But I thought your dad didn’t pass away until your last year of college,” she said, confused.
“His spirit was gone long before that,” Shane said, sighing heavily. “After he finally crawled out of the whiskey bottle and burned everything that hinted at a woman ever living in the house, he did two things for the rest of his life. He worked and slept. Beyond that, he didn’t have a lot of interest in life.”
With sudden clarity Melissa knew exactly why her father had turned into a workaholic. He’d been trying to fill the void left by his wife.
“Did your father leave a picture of her for you?” Her father hadn’t been able to get rid of anything that had belonged to her mother.
“No, I barely remember what she even looked like.” Shane shrugged. “But I made a vow that I’d never put myself in the position for the same thing to happen to me. I wasn’t going to give that kind of power over me to any woman.”
Afraid that his next revelation would be that he could never give her what she needed most—his love—she bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling a moment before she asked, “W-what does that have to do with you helping the senator?”
Shane walked over to kneel in front of her. “I was trying to run from the fact that I’d done the very thing I’d swore never to do, angel.”
Melissa closed her eyes and tried not to read anything into what he had just said. She couldn’t bear it if it turned out she was wrong.
“What were you trying to run from, Shane?” she finally found the courage to ask.
“I was trying to run from loving you, Lissa,” he said, taking her hands in his. “There isn’t much of anything in this life that I can honestly say I’m afraid of. But the thought of loving you the way I do and having you leave me one day, scares the living hell out of me.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You love me?”
Nodding, he took her into his arms and crushed her to his broad chest. “I love and need you more than I need my next breath.”
Before she could tell him that she loved him, too, he covered her mouth with his. Heat streaked throughout her entire body when he traced her lips with his tongue and she readily opened to grant him the access he sought. As he tasted and teased, her heart filled with the knowledge that Shane loved her. She’d never felt more complete than she did at that moment.
When he finally broke the kiss, Melissa leaned back to cup his face with both hands. “Shane McDermott, I love you with all my heart and soul.”
“And I love you, angel.” He gave her a quick kiss, then lifted her left hand to slip her engagement ring back onto her finger. “Promise me you won’t give this back to me ever again.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, she shook her head. “Never.” It suddenly occurred to her that he had been wearing nothing but a towel from the moment she walked into the room. “Where did you keep the ring while you were telling me about your parents?”
He laughed. “You didn’t notice that I kept my left hand closed?”
“I…well…not really.” She smiled. “I was too busy looking at your…um, heart.”
“Like that, do you?” he asked, grinning. He took her hand to place it on his chest. “It belongs to you now, Lissa. My heart, my soul, all of me belongs to you for the rest of our lives.”
“And I’m yours, Shane,” she promised. “I have been from the moment we met.”
Lifting her, he sat down and settled her on his lap. “We have a few more things we need to discuss.”
“What would that be?” she asked, laying her head on his shoulder.
“I believe you when you say that you love the ranch,” he said slowly. “But I think we’ll build a house here in Aspen to live in during the snow season.”
Sitting up, she frowned. “But I won’t mind being snowed in as long as it’s with you.”
He laughed. “I know, but I’m thinking down the line.” He placed his hand on her still-flat stomach. “When our baby is old enough, I don’t want to have him or her living with relatives to attend school like I had to do.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, liking the idea that he wanted them to all be together.
“I also think it would be a good idea for us to spend this winter at Willow Lodge.” He kissed her nose. “That way we won’t miss any doctor appointments because of weather.”
“You’re just full of good ideas, aren’t you,” she said, unable to stop smiling. “That way while you’re traveling for the congressional investigation, I’ll at least have Erica and Avery over from time to time.”
“You can have your family over as much as you like, but I’ll be there, too,” he said, pressing his cheek to her temple. “You will?”
Grinning, he nodded. “I called Senator Kurk this afternoon and told him that after careful thought, I wouldn’t be available for the job after all.”
“Did he understand?” she asked, wondering if he’d made an enemy out of an old family friend.
“He told me he was disappointed, but he understood that being a newlywed I wouldn’t want to be away from you.” Shane kissed her temple, her cheek and the tip of her nose. “And that brings me to the last thing we need to talk over.”
“A wedding date?” she guessed.
He nodded. “Are we still good for New Year’s Eve, angel?”
“Absolutely.”
He nibbled kisses along the side of her neck. “Why don’t I get dressed and you take off the rest of the afternoon. I’d like to take you back to Willow Lodge and catch up on the three days we’ve been apart.”
“That sounds like your best idea yet, Cowboy,” she said, loving him more with each passing second.
He was her heart, her soul, her very life. She couldn’t wait to be back in his arms again, celebrating the happiness of finding each other, the life they had created and the love she knew for certain they would share for the rest of their lives.
DAY LECLAIRE
DANTE’S TEMPORARY FIANCÉE
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
One
This time his family had gone too far.
Rafe Dante stared at the bevy of women being subtly—and not so subtly—paraded beneath his nose by various family members. He’d lost count of the number of women he’d been forced to shake hands with. He knew why they were doing it. They were all determined to find him a wife. He grimaced. No, more than just a wife.
They hoped to find his Inferno soul mate—a Dante legend that had gotten seriously out of hand. For some reason, his family had it firmly fixed in their heads that it took only one touch for some strange mythical connection to be forged between a Dante and his soul mate. Ridiculous, of course. Didn’t they get it?
Not only didn’t he believe in The Inferno, but he had no interest in ever experiencing matrimonial blisslessness again. His late wife, Leigh, had taught him that lesson in the short span of time from “I do” to “My lawyer will be in touch.” Of course, that phone call had never come. Eighteen months ago his wife had chartered a private plane to Mexico to recover from the tragedy of her marriage to him and met a far worse fate when her plane crashed into a mountainside, leaving no survivors.
Rafe’s younger brother, Draco, joined him and folded his arms across his chest. He stood silently for a moment, surveying the room and the glittering contents, both jeweled and female. “Ready to surrender and just pick one?”
“Get serious.”
“I am. Dead serious.”
Rafe turned on his brother, only too happy to vent some of his irritation. “Do you have any idea what the past three months have been like?”
“I do. I’ve been watching from the sidelines, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m also keenly aware that once you succumb to The Inferno, I’m next in line for the firing squad. As far as I’m concerned, feel free to hold out for as long as possible.”
“I’m working on it.”
Rafe returned his attention to the shimmer and sparkle and sighed. Dantes international jewelry reception possessed everything a man could ask for—wine, women and bling—and nothing he wanted.
The wine came from a Sonoma, California, vineyard just a few hours from the family’s San Francisco home office. He knew the label on the bottles was as exclusive as the guest list. The women were beautiful, wealthy and shone as brilliantly as the wedding rings on display around the private showroom. As for the bling… Well, that often fell within his purview, at least it did when Dantes Courier Service transported the stunning array of gemstones and finished pieces.
And yet Rafe was nagged by a sense of utter boredom. How many times had he attended receptions similar to this one? Always observing. Always maintaining a vigilant eye from the shadows. Always the watchful lone wolf instinctively avoided by the guests, until one family member or another thrust a potential bride in his direction. It was a pattern that had repeated itself so many times he’d lost count.
This occasion celebrated the exclusive release of the latest Dantes collection, the Eternity line of one-of-a-kind wedding rings. Each was unique, combining the fire diamonds for which his family was renowned with the Platinum Ice gold from Billings, the company owned by Rafe’s sister-in-law, Téa Dante, who’d married his older brother, Luc, three months earlier. Just seeing rings that symbolized love and commitment filled Rafe with bitterness.
Been there. Done that. Still had the scars to prove it.
And then he saw her.
The little blonde pixie working the reception as one of the caterers couldn’t claim the title of most gorgeous woman in the room, but for some reason Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He couldn’t say why she attracted his attention or explain the vague sizzle she stirred. Granted, her features were quite lovely, delicate and fine boned with enough whimsy to make them interesting. Maybe it was her hair and eyes—hair the same shade as the ice-white sand of a Caribbean island and eyes the glorious turquoise of the rolling ocean waves that splashed and frolicked across those pristine beaches. Then there was that sizzle he couldn’t explain, a vague compelling itch that urged him to get closer to her in every possible way.
She circulated through the display room of the Dantes corporate office building with a hip-swinging glide that made her appear as though she were dancing. In fact, she possessed a dancer’s body, lean and graceful, if a bit pint-size, every delectable inch showcased by the fitted black slacks and tight red vest of her uniform.
She disappeared into the crowd, her tray of canapés held high, and he lost sight of her. For a split second he was tempted to give chase. A few minutes later, the pixie waitress reappeared with a fresh tray of champagne and circled through the guests in the exact opposite direction from where he stood.
For some reason it annoyed Rafe. Determined to force a meeting, he began to maneuver his way through the crowd on an intercept course, one circumvented by Draco’s restraining hand.
“What?” Rafe asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I’m thirsty.”
Draco shot him a knowing look. “Funny. I’d have said you look hungry. And with so many eyes on you, I recommend you avoid sating your appetite until a more appropriate time and place.”
“Hell.”
“Relax. Where there’s a will…” Draco gestured toward one of the nearby display cases and deliberately changed the subject. “Looks like Francesca’s latest line of Eternity wedding rings is going to be a huge success. Sev must be thrilled.”
Caving to the inevitable, Rafe nodded. “I think he’s more thrilled about the birth of their son,” he replied. “But this would probably rate as icing on the cake.”
Draco inclined his head, then slanted Rafe a look of open amusement. “So tell me. How many of the lovelies fluttering around the room have our beloved grandparents introduced to you so far this evening?”
Rafe’s expression settled into grim lines. “A full dozen. Made me touch every last one of them, like they expected to see me set off a shower of fireworks or light the place up in a blaze of electricity or something.”
“It’s your own fault. If you hadn’t told Luc that you and Leigh never experienced The Inferno, the entire family wouldn’t be intent on throwing women your way.”
The fact that so many of his relatives had succumbed to the family legend only added to Rafe’s bitterness toward his own brief foray into the turbulent matrimonial waters. Time would tell whether their romances lasted longer than his own. They might claim they’d found their soul mates, courtesy of the Dantes’ Inferno. Rafe, the most logical and practical of all his kith and kin, adopted a far more simple and pragmatic—okay, cynical—viewpoint.
The Inferno didn’t exist.
There was no eternal bond established when a Dante first touched his soul mate, no matter what anyone claimed, any more than Dantes Eternity wedding rings could promise that the marriages for which they were purchased would last for all eternity. Some hit it lucky, like his grandparents, Primo and Nonna. And some didn’t, like his disastrous marriage to his late wife, Leigh.
Rafe stared broodingly at his older brother, Luc, and his bride of three months, Téa. They were dancing together, swirling across the floor, gazing into each other’s eyes as though no one else in the room existed. Every emotion blazed in their expressions, there for the world to witness. Hell, even when Rafe had been in the most passionate throes of lust, neither he nor Leigh had ever looked at each other like that.
In fact, he’d been accused by the various women in his life that his penchant for practicality and hard, cold logic—his lone wolf persona—bled over into his personal life with dismaying frequency. Possessing a fiery passion in the bedroom definitely compensated, as did his striking Dante looks, they conceded, but not when that passion went no farther than the bedroom door. Emotionally distant. Unavailable. Intimidating. For reasons that bewildered him, that word was always accompanied by a shudder.
What none of them understood was
that he didn’t do love. Not the brutal, I-married-you-because-you’re-a-rich-and-powerful-Dante love his late wife, Leigh, had specialized in. Not the casual, melt-the-sheets-and-enjoy-it-while-the-bling-lasts type that characterized the women interested in an affair with him. And definitely not The Inferno brain-frying-palm-burning-happily-ever-after brand of bull spouted by his more emotional and passionate Dante relatives.
Rafe knew himself all too well. And he could state with absolute certainty that not only wasn’t he hardwired that way, he never had and never would experience an Inferno love.
Which was just fine by him.
“It was annoying the first few times a potential bride was dangled in front of me,” Rafe informed his brother. “Since it was Nonna and Primo, I couldn’t say much. But now everyone’s gotten into the act. I can’t move without having some gorgeous thing shoved under my nose.”
Draco signaled to someone over Rafe’s shoulder. “A fate worse than death,” he said with a fake shudder.
“It would be if it were you under the gun.”
“But I’m not.” Draco leaned past Rafe and helped himself to a flute of champagne. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
“Consider this your lucky day. The tray’s right behind you.” He offered a cocky grin. “And don’t say I never did you a favor.”
Confused by the comment, Rafe turned to take a glass and found his elusive pixie standing there, holding the tray of drinks. Close up she was even more appealing than from across the room.
He gestured to her with the flute. “Thanks.”
Her smile grew, lighting up her face, the room and some cold, dark place in his heart. “You’re welcome.” Even her voice appealed, rich and husky with an almost musical lyricism.
Draco watched the byplay in amusement. “You know, if you want the relatives to leave you alone, there is one way.”
That snagged Rafe’s attention. “How?” he demanded.
One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire Page 27