by Day Leclaire
“I’d really rather you wouldn’t. Listen to me.” She caught his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. “I said listen to me, Constantine. They caught David. He’s in police custody. I don’t think he’s going to get out of this one, thanks to Brimstone.”
Luc approached, a huge grin on his face. “You should have been here, Romano.” He slapped Constantine on his back. “You could have helped us take d’Angelo down.”
“Let go of me, Gianna,” Constantine demanded.
She clung tighter. “Not if you plan on hitting my brother.”
“I said, let go of me.”
Luc’s attention switched from one to the other, a frown forming between his brows. “I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”
“What’s the…” It took Constantine a moment to recover his breath enough to speak. He seized Gianna around the waist and set her to one side. “How would you like my putting Téa in the sort of danger you’ve put Gianna in? What would you do to the man who used her in such a fashion and never discussed it with you first?”
Luc froze. For a split second, his gaze landed on Gianna then bounced off again. “You’re absolutely right, Constantine. I apologize. I was so anxious to get my hands on d’Angelo that I didn’t even think about the risk my sister was taking. I guess I’m so used to the security business it never occurred to me that she’d be in any danger.”
Constantine closed his eyes, his fury deflating. “You thought I knew,” he said to Luc.
Gianna’s brother winced and shot him a look of intense sympathy. “Yeah, sorry. Should have known better. Gia has seven older brothers and cousins, all of whom set a horrible example for her. There’s not a trick she hasn’t learned.”
“I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”
“Still, I should have spoken directly to you about it.”
“Are you very angry?” Gianna had the nerve to ask.
“Furious.” Constantine spared her a brief, speaking glance. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now I have some very confused businessmen waiting for me.”
“I’ve already given my statement to the police.” She checked with Luc, who nodded. “I can leave now, if you’d like.”
If he’d like? Words fought for release, none of them fit to be aired. “I don’t like,” he said gently. “I insist.”
She cleared her throat, perhaps becoming aware of the extent of his anger for the first time. “Great.” She plastered a cheerful smile on her face and glanced around. “So, how do we get there?”
It was only then that Constantine realized he’d paid off the cab. Luc jumped in and waved Juice over, who waited on the tiny front stoop of the Mereaux house, hovering protectively over the slender woman standing beside him. “You can use our rental while we go to the police station and finalize everything.”
Luc had chosen a nondescript sedan and Constantine helped Gianna into the car. He managed to drive a full dozen blocks before he couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled over. His hands clenched around the steering wheel. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
Gianna sighed. “I’m sorry, Constantine. I knew if I told you what we planned, you wouldn’t agree.”
“Wouldn’t agree?” he repeated. He swiveled in his seat to face her. “Have you lost your mind? Of course I wouldn’t have agreed. I’d never do anything to put you in jeopardy or allowed you anywhere near d’Angelo, especially after what he did to you last time.”
A stubborn look settled on her face. “Don’t you see? I had to face him the same way I had to face the lake. Luc and Juice wouldn’t have let anything happen to me. And the police were alerted in advance. They had officers in the area.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her jade gaze holding a combination of apology and determination. “I did it, Constantine. I looked him right in the eyes and realized what a contemptible little worm he is.”
Constantine fought to temper his anger, to consider the situation from her point of view. “I can’t argue with your description. I can and do argue with how you went about it. Did you give a single thought to my take on all this? To how I’d react or my opinion? We’re supposed to be a team, Gianna.”
She winced. “You’re right and I am sorry. I promise I won’t keep anything from you in the future. Not that anything like this will ever happen again.”
“No, it won’t, as I intend to make very clear to each and every one of your relatives.” He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her close and held her. “Were you very afraid?”
“Not even a little.” She tilted her head back and grinned. “Okay, maybe a little, but it was only a very little.”
“D’Angelo followed you to the Mereaux residence?”
“More or less. He arrived a few minutes after I did.”
“He didn’t harm you or the Mereaux woman?”
“No. Mia handled it like a trouper. He came in and demanded the doll. Luc had told us what to say so it would be a clear-cut case of theft.” Her brow wrinkled. “Or is it burglary?” She shrugged. “No matter. They taped every last word. Then David ripped open the poor doll and removed Brimstone. Lord, it was huge. And because it’s worth so much, taking it makes it a far more serious crime. Somehow I don’t think he’s going to get out of this one as easily as he’s gotten out of so many of his other problems.”
“He won’t be getting out of those, either. He and his father are under investigation for embezzlement.”
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Gianna said cheerfully.
Constantine checked his watch. “Moretti should be arriving shortly. I need to get back to the Diamondt building.”
“I gather I’m coming with you?” she asked.
He shot her a hard look. “You, piccola, will not be out of my sight for the rest of our stay in Seattle.”
She sighed. “Sort of thought you might say that.”
Gianna and Constantine arrived at the Diamondt building shortly after four. To her intense surprise, the first person she saw when she entered the foyer was her oldest cousin, Sev. She made a beeline for him.
“Severo Dante, what on earth are you doing here?” she demanded.
He jerked at her question and swept around to confront her. She checked her forward momentum at the last instant, only just preventing herself from giving the man a hug.
He was as tall as Sev—two or three inches over six feet—with hair every bit as black. He also possessed the same intense golden eyes as both her cousin and her grandfather, Primo. His features were equally hard, cut in strong, less-than-handsome lines, but all the more powerful because of it. He’d dressed in a black suit, one that emphasized his broad shoulders and strong, muscular legs, and cloaked him in darkness.
Unable to help herself, she fell back a step, thoroughly intimidated. “I’m sorry. I thought you were my cousin.” She glanced over her shoulder, searching for Constantine, before offering her hand with a hesitant smile. “I don’t suppose you have any Dante relatives in your background? You could pass for one of my family without any problem at all. The resemblance is really quite amazing.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. Then in a voice as deep and black as his appearance, he asked, “Who are you?”
Her hand dropped slowly to her side. “I’m Gianna Dante. Constantine Romano is my fiancé,” she explained stiffly.
His eyes narrowed in open displeasure. To her extreme relief, she felt the reassuring pressure of Constantine’s hands on her shoulder. “Is there a problem?”
Moretti hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen here. Send the contract,” he said, his gaze never shifting from Gianna. And with that, he turned and left, flowing from the building like black fog.
“What the hell was that about?” Constantine demanded.
“I think I remember where I heard the name Moretti before,” Gianna murmured, stricken. “That’s the name of the woman my uncle Dominic had an affair with. The woman he was leaving Aunt Laura for. Oh, Constantine. I
think maybe Uncle Dominic did more than have an affair with her. A lot more.”
Ten
Constantine stared after Gabe Moretti in disbelief. “You think he’s a Dante? Seriously?”
“I don’t know.” Gianna gnawed on her lower lip. “You saw him. Don’t you think he could have passed for Sev’s twin brother?”
“Don’t jump to any rash conclusions,” Constantine warned. “You’re far too good at that.”
She swiveled to face him, planting her hands on her shapely hips. “Tell me you’re not going to rub that in my face for the rest of our lives.”
The time had come to deal with her impulsiveness once and for all. He approached and went toe-to-toe with her. “I won’t rub it in your face, if you promise not to act rashly.”
She smiled sweetly. “I assume that means you want prior approval on every decision I make. How deliciously caveman of you.” She swept her hand downward to indicate her pantsuit. “Would you care to approve my clothes, for instance? My shoes? What about my hair?”
“That’s not what I mean and you damn well know it,” he growled. “Even Luc acknowledged that I should have been informed of what you had planned for today. You admitted that the only reason you didn’t was that you knew I would object. So don’t act as though I’m coming on like some sort of Neanderthal.” He leaned in. “Imagine if the situation had been reversed and I’d been the one in that house. If Juice and your brothers had kept our plan from you. Admit it. You would have been furious.”
For an instant, he thought she’d argue the point. Then she blew out a sigh and nodded. “No, you’re right. I should have told you, just as I would have expected you to tell me.”
A smile built across his face. It was times like this that she blew him away. Her fairness. The frank way she admitted her mistakes. They were just a few of the qualities he adored about her. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still sort of new at this whole team thing we have going,” she admitted.
“As am I.” He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her up for a slow kiss. “Look on the bright side. D’Angelo is in jail and unlikely to get out anytime soon. I was just awarded a huge contract. And you may have a new cousin.”
She grimaced. “I’m not sure there’s a bright side to your last point.”
“Time will tell.” He released her. “Now that we’re a team, how do you suggest we handle the possibility?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Should you tell Primo?”
“Tell him that his son may have fathered a child out of wedlock?” She shuddered. “Scary thought.”
“Do you want to think about it for a while?”
Her eyebrows shot skyward. “What? Not act impulsively for once? Me?”
He smothered a smile. “I know it’ll be a challenge.”
“In this case, not so much.” She frowned unhappily. “To be honest, I would like to think about it for a while.”
Constantine glanced again at the exit Gabe Moretti had taken. “I have a feeling you won’t be the only one.”
The next several weeks passed with lightning speed. Gianna should have been blissfully happy, but a single shadow continued to hang over her. Not once in all the time she’d been with Constantine had he said those vital three words she’d shared with him the night they’d made love for the first time: I love you. He wanted her. No question there. The Inferno burned and connected them in ways that suggested love and a lifelong commitment. But real love? Natural love? Non-Inferno influenced love?
She just couldn’t be certain.
How much of his desire and commitment to marry her were based on The Inferno and feeling honor-bound to marry her because they’d made love? And how much of it was based on true feeling? It was definitely a conversation they needed to have before the wedding.
But as the days and weeks passed, Gianna couldn’t figure out a way to discuss the problem with him. Or perhaps she couldn’t find the right words because, despite facing all of her other fears, she couldn’t bring herself to face this one. She couldn’t bear the idea of his admitting to her that he didn’t love her, that it was all due to The Inferno.
If that’s what he believed, she’d be forced to cancel their wedding, something her entire family—not to mention Constantine—would oppose. Oppose? She laughed without humor. She knew her family. And though they were the most loving and generous people she’d ever known, they wouldn’t hesitate to drag her to the altar and find a priest who’d marry them regardless of whether or not she said “I do.” Considering she and Constantine had experienced The Inferno, they wouldn’t give her any other choice. If they knew the two of them had slept together… Well, forget it. The wedding would happen faster than the sizzle of The Inferno.
And still the days passed.
The night before the wedding, Primo threw a party in their honor. “I think it was to keep us from stealing away your fiancé and debauching him,” Rafe informed Gianna with a wink.
She laughed. “No bachelor’s party?”
“We might try to sneak him off into a corner and debauch him there. Maybe Primo won’t notice.”
“Doubtful. Primo notices everything and knows everything.”
Though there was one thing he didn’t know. She hadn’t told him about Gabe Moretti, yet. Both she and Constantine had made some subtle inquiries after their return from Seattle. At least, she hoped they’d been subtle. Eventually, they’d discovered that Gabe Moretti was indeed the son of Cara Moretti. And though that fact alone didn’t prove Dominic Dante was his father, the family resemblance suggested that possibility. Possibility? Probability. After discussing it with Constantine a final time, she’d decided to turn the entire matter over to her grandfather.
She found him where she often did, in the kitchen. He’d chased off all his helpers and she knew better than to offer her assistance. In this family, the kitchen was her grandfather’s domain. “So, chiacchierona. Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked, his trademark cigar clamped between his teeth.
She hesitated, driven to answer honestly. “A little.”
Her grandfather sampled his sauce, eyeing her over the steaming ladle. “And what part makes you a little nervous?”
“Constantine and I haven’t known each other very long.”
Primo lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Eh. You have the next sixty years to get to know each other. You have The Inferno, which means your marriage will be passionate, happy and successful. That is all that matters, yes?”
She stared down at the kitchen table and traced one of the gouges her cousin Marco had carved in it years ago. A love scratch, her grandmother had claimed. A nick alongside so many other nicks, all of which helped imbue a piece of furniture with the richness and history of the family who owned it. Gianna smiled sadly. Maybe she wouldn’t be as nervous of tomorrow’s events if she believed that The Inferno was forever, that someday she and Constantine would have a kitchen table that spoke of generations worth of love and use.
She glanced up, on the verge of telling her grandfather about what she’d learned on her thirteenth birthday. But when she looked into those ancient golden eyes, eyes filled with love and understanding and an absolute certainty in the world as he knew it, she couldn’t bring herself to disillusion him.
“Constantine and I met someone in Seattle,” she said instead. “I didn’t know if I should tell you about it. But I think I better.”
Primo turned the flame beneath his sauce to a simmer and snagged a pair of bottles of homemade beer out of the cavernous refrigerator. Popping the tops with practiced ease, he set one in front of her. He took the seat beside her and tapped his bottle against hers. “Cin cin.”
They both drank. “This man…” She didn’t see any easy way to tell him. “He looked just like Sev. And you.”
Primo closed his eyes. “His name?”
“Gabe Moretti. He wasn’t pleased to meet me.” She waited for her grandfather t
o gather himself before continuing. “Who is he? How is he related to us?”
“I believe he is your Uncle Dominic’s son.”
It confirmed her suspicions. “With the woman he was leaving Aunt Laura for?”
“This is not an appropriate conversation on the eve of your wedding,” Primo said gently. “We will talk of it another time. Thank you for telling me.”
She recognized Primo’s expression. She wouldn’t get any more information out of him. “I’m planning on holding you to that. If Constantine’s going to do business with the man, chances are we’ll meet again—sooner rather than later. I’d rather not be in the dark when we do.”
Primo inclined his head. “You will not mention this to anyone else. Mi hai capito, Gianna Marie?”
She made a face. “Yes, I understand. In fact, I had a feeling you were going to say that.” She stood. “I’ll let Constantine know.”
The rest of the night was everything she could have asked, the evening filled with joy, fun, laughter and, most important of all, the warmth of family unity. She wasn’t the least surprised when the Dantes gathered in Primo’s garden after dinner and began relating old, favorite stories. While her grandparents took turns telling Constantine about their first Inferno meeting—perpetuating the falsehood of The Inferno—Gianna slipped away from the light and crowd and retreated into the shadows.
Tomorrow she’d be a married woman. Would she be one of the lucky ones, like her own parents and grandparents? Or would she and Constantine end up like Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura?
“Are you okay?” Constantine came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
She melted against him with a sigh of happiness. “I’m fine.”
“Nervous about tomorrow?”
“You’re the tenth person tonight who’s asked me that.”
“Probably why you’re nervous.”
She laughed. “That must be it.” She turned in his arms and allowed her fingers to drift deep into the thick waves of his hair. “There can’t possibly be any other reason.”