by Day Leclaire
“I don’t think. I know. He called it Dante’s Heart. Even my mother thought it would work. I—reluctantly—agreed to meet with them the next day when they returned from their sailing excursion.”
“Only they didn’t return.”
He closed his eyes, grief carving deep lines into his face. “No.”
“Didn’t he write down his idea? Leave some sort of clue behind?”
“I tore both home and office apart looking for it. There was nothing. Nothing except—”
She recalled what he’d told her when they’d visited his Pacific Heights house. “Letters detailing his affair with a designer.”
“Yes.” His mouth slid into a smile. Without fail, that simple quirk of his lips caused her body to quicken in anticipation. “Seems to run in the family.”
She acknowledged his comment with a sad smile before returning to the heart of the matter. “You think if you’d only taken the time to listen to your father, you wouldn’t have had to sell off all the Dante subsidiaries?”
His hands swept over her, settling on the softest of her curves. “If you’re asking whether I blame myself, I’ll make it easy for you. I do.”
She fought to speak through her shiver of desire. “Seems we both have something to prove.”
“So it does.” He traced a path of kisses from the hollow of her throat downward. “The first thing I want to prove is how much I want you.”
In the hours that followed he did precisely that. Their lovemaking took on a desperate edge, as though beneath the passion they sensed how much they needed one another.
Sev gave no quarter. He took with a ruthless power Francesca couldn’t resist. He branded her with his fire, taking her to heights she’d never, ever experienced before, taking her in ways she’d never, ever experienced before. The level of intimacy should have terrified her, the knowledge he gained over her body, and even more overwhelming, her heart, allowing her nowhere to hide.
He forced her from hiding and into the light, forced her to connect with him on every possible level. She might have resisted, but for one thing. He gave every bit as much of himself as he took, baring himself to her need, her touch. Her desire. And in doing so, filling the emptiness within.
Their weekend together changed everything, convincing Francesca that maybe she could have it all. Despite the small warning voice, she couldn’t quite silence, she allowed herself to be talked back into Sev’s bed. Or blackmailed there, he frequently claimed with a teasing grin.
As the days slid into weeks, she became more and more certain Sev didn’t have an ulterior motive, other than to get her in his bed as often as possible. But since that was her motivation, as well, nothing could make her happier. Of course, he continued to offer her a job at Dantes at regular intervals, making the tempting offers as such casual asides they felt more like a joke than a true offer. Foolishly, she even managed to convince herself he’d forgotten about identifying which actress Timeless Heirlooms hoped to sign as their spokeswoman.
Or so she believed until he picked her up one evening and handed her a brightly wrapped package. “This is for you. Fair warning, I want major good-guy points for this one.”
“That depends.” She picked up the box and shook it. “What did you get?”
“Something you mentioned last week. Go on and open it. It’s just a DVD.” His expression turned gloomy. “It has chick flick written all over it, but for you, I’m willing to take it like a man.”
Ripping off the outer wrapping she realized he’d bought her the latest Juliet Bloom release. She stiffened, wondering if this was his subtle way of telling her he knew about the possibility of TH using Bloom as their spokeswoman. “Thanks,” she murmured. She cleared her throat, forcing a more natural tone to her voice. “I can’t wait to watch this.”
“Then we’ll do it tonight,” he responded promptly. “We’ll order in Chinese and crack open that bottle of Pinot Grigio my family sent over from Italy.”
All through the beginning of the movie she remained on edge, praying she wouldn’t do or say something to give away TH’s plans. The entire time, Sev remained his normal self. As far as she could tell, he didn’t watch her with any more intensity than usual. There were no double entendres or suspicious comments. Halfway through the film, she managed to relax and even enjoy herself, perhaps in part due to the glass of wine Sev kept topped off.
By the end of the movie, she was in her usual position whenever they watched a DVD, on the couch curled up in Sev’s arms. Tears filled her eyes as the film reached its stunning climax, a scene in which the heroine stood before the villain, clothed in nothing but defiance and diamonds.
“It reminds me of our first night together,” Sev murmured. “You were wearing your amethyst-and-diamond set, remember? Bloom would look stunning in one of your designs.”
Francesca couldn’t tear her eyes from the film. “Yes, she will,” she murmured.
It took a full half-dozen heartbeats before she realized what she’d said. It took even less time to realize he’d understood the implications. She ripped free of his embrace and stood. “Oh, God.”
Sev climbed slowly to his feet, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “Honey, don’t. Don’t overreact. I swear to you, I already knew.”
She shook her head, not believing him. “This was a setup, wasn’t it?”
“Not even a little.”
Tears of anger blurred her vision. “And I fell for it. I got complacent. Even when I saw which movie you’d chosen, I convinced myself not to read anything into it.” The breath hitched in her throat as she looked around for her purse. “I have to go.”
“No, you don’t,” he argued. “You need to stay so we can talk this through.”
She ignored him, scooping her purse off the coffee table and crossing to the entryway to snatch her sweater from the antique armoire he used as a coat closet. “Just answer me one question, Sev.” She spun to face him. “Are you going to use the information about Juliet Bloom to try and take down TH?”
At least he didn’t lie to her. “Yes.”
“Then there’s nothing left to be said, is there?”
“There’s more to be said than you can possibly imagine. But since you’re in no mood to listen to me tonight, it can wait until tomorrow.”
“You’re wrong, Sev.” She yanked open the door to his apartment and stepped through. “There is no tomorrow for us.”
Chapter Six
The answer to Francesca’s question—was Sev going to use the information she’d let slip?—came the next morning when she rushed in to work.
A message sat on her desk requesting she report to Tina’s office at her earliest convenience. It didn’t have anything to do with her slipup, she attempted to convince herself. Not this fast, nor this soon. He’d only had one night to track down the actress or her rep and cause trouble. He couldn’t possibly have accomplished that so quickly.
But a feeling of impending doom clung to her as she sprinted up the steps to the executive level of Timeless Heirlooms. The Fontaines shared adjoining offices at one end of the floor and she could hear Tina’s voice raised in anger coming from her side of the suite. Not unusual, given her volatile nature. But not welcome, either, all things considered. Kurt’s placating voice rumbled in response to whatever Tina said, indicating the two were in there together.
Francesca knocked on the door, not in the least surprised when no one answered. She doubted they heard her over the shouting. Peeking around the door, she asked, “You wanted to see me?”
Kurt waved her in and toward a brilliant magenta sofa at one end of the room. She took a seat and waited. Outside, storm clouds marched across the city skyline, a perfect reflection of the Fontaines’ mood.
“I’m serious, Kurt. Something has to be done about them.”
“What do you suggest, honey?” He shoved a hand through hair a shade paler than Francesca’s own honey-blond. “I’ve called Juliet Bloom’s rep every day since the showing. She’s polite, but refuses
to commit.”
“Because of those damn Dantes!”
Francesca stiffened at hearing her worst fears confirmed. “What have the Dantes got to do with Juliet Bloom?” As if she didn’t know.
Tina swung around, only too happy to explain. “Surprise, surprise, they’ve approached her, too.” She slammed her hands down on her desk. “They sell wedding rings, for God’s sake, not jewelry sets. But because it’s the Dante name, Bloom is listening.”
Francesca’s heart sank. Oh, God. He’d done it. Somehow, he’d used her slip of the tongue to wrestle the Bloom account away from the Fontaines. “When . . . when did this happen?”
“We’re not sure. Bloom’s been cagey ever since the show. Promising, but never quite committing. Then this morning we found out why.”
Francesca closed her eyes to hide the guilt she knew must be readily apparent. This was all her fault. She should have been up front with the Fontaines from the start. She never should have allowed Sev to convince her to continue their affair, despite the hint of blackmail behind his insistence. But she’d wanted him, wanted him desperately. And so she’d caved when she should have held firm. If TH went under, she’d be the one responsible and they’d never forgive her. Hell, she’d never forgive herself.
“What are you going to do?” she finally asked.
Tina resumed her pacing. “What can we do? We’re running out of time.” She didn’t need to add that a good portion of Timeless Heirlooms’ future hung on the actress agreeing to be their spokeswoman and wear Francesca’s creations in her next picture.
Kurt glanced at Francesca. “Severo Dante called,” he murmured in an aside. “He told us he was behind the delay and upped his offer for Timeless.”
Tina glared in frustration. “I don’t care what that SOB offers. I’m not selling.” Her anger crumbled to panic and she barreled straight into Kurt’s arms. “We’re in this together, right? United we stand and all that? Because I couldn’t do this without you. This place would fall apart if it weren’t for you.”
His arms tightened around his wife. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure something out.”
Tears stung Francesca’s eyes at the open display of affection. If only she’d had that sort of unconditional love and protection growing up. She shook her head, refusing to allow her thoughts to go there. It wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to drive her crazy with futile longing. Kurt could never be her father. And Sev would never be anything more than her temporary lover.
After all, it didn’t matter that she couldn’t claim Kurt as her father, she decided then and there, or reveal her connection to him. She refused to do anything that might damage the Fontaines’ marriage. And finding out that Kurt had not only indulged in an affair in the early years of their marriage, but also that a child had resulted from the affair, would do more than damage it. Knowing Tina, it could very well destroy thirty years of wedded bliss. Francesca could barely handle the guilt of her part in bringing down TH. It would destroy her if she ruined Kurt and Tina’s marriage, on top of everything else.
Just being this close to her father filled Francesca with more joy than she thought possible. After all the lonely years in foster care, all the years of working every spare minute of every day to hone her craft, she’d settle for whatever scraps she could get. She refused to bemoan her current circumstances. While her connection to family would remain tenuous at best, as long as she worked at Timeless Heirlooms and it remained afloat, she could pursue a career she loved with all her heart and soul. Even better, she could remain in her father’s orbit, even if she never became one of his inner circle.
And if that meant helping them beat Sev at his own game, so be it. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Is there some way of convincing Juliet Bloom to go with TH?”
Kurt looked at her over Tina’s head. “Put out some feelers among your associates. See if you can find out who this new designer is.”
She froze. “I’m sorry. What new designer?”
Tina pulled free of Kurt’s embrace. “That’s right. We didn’t tell her the best part. Wait until you hear this one.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Dantes has convinced Bloom’s people that they have some hot new designer on the hook who can give Dame Juliet exactly what she wants.”
Oh, no. Oh, please don’t let it be who she thought it was. “Who? Who’s their new designer?”
“We have no idea. We haven’t heard so much as a whisper of a rumor.”
“That’s where you come in,” Kurt added. “We’d appreciate it if you’d keep your ear to the ground. See what some of the other designers are saying. It has to be someone they’ve acquired very recently, since this Bloom deal’s only been around for the past few weeks.”
“Maybe we should go downstairs and count heads,” Tina muttered. “See if any of our designers are missing. It would be just like him to snitch one of them right from under our noses.”
Francesca closed her eyes, her world tilting. Aware that the Fontaines waited for her response, she swallowed, struggling to speak around a throat gone bone-dry. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Not that it would take much effort. In fact, it wouldn’t take much more than a single visit. How many times had Sev offered her a job, each proposition more lucrative than the last? Suddenly, it all made sense.
Sev knew that TH was in hot negotiation with some big name. He’d been frank about that almost from the start. Chances were excellent he also knew which designer had piqued that person’s interest, had undoubtedly known from the night they first met.
If he stole—seduced—her away from TH, he’d gain the ultimate prize. Now that he’d romanced the actress’s name out of her, he’d land a highly lucrative account with Bloom and take away the Fontaines’ best chance at revitalizing the company Dantes wanted to purchase. If she didn’t miss her guess, Sev planned to use her to accomplish both those goals.
Overhead the storm clouds broke.
Francesca didn’t give the assistant seated at a desk outside Sev’s door a chance to stop her. She simply swept past the stunning blonde and barged straight into his office. Four men sat sprawled on couches and chairs in an informal sitting area at the far end of the enormous room. She recognized them from the photos that decorated the console in Sev’s den, as well as the walls of his apartment.
The Dantes, all four glorious male specimens on display.
Sharp light, scrubbed clean from the recent storm, streamed from the floor-to-ceiling windows and haloed the twins, Marco and Lazz, who sat opposite each other like a pair of striking bookends. She pegged Marco by his wide grin and appreciative gaze, not to mention the sexual sizzle he gave off with every exhalation. Lazz regarded her with a cool, analytical stare, everything about him suggesting a man who kept his emotions under tight control. And then there was Nicolò, the youngest at twenty-nine, but according to Sev, the most dangerous of the bunch. Had he been the one to suggest her as a creative solution for taking over Timeless Heirlooms? Finally, her attention switched to Sev.
He knew why she’d come. She saw the knowledge settle across a face she’d covered with sweet kisses just a few hours earlier. He jerked his head toward the door and his brothers stood en masse. Before Nicolò left, he handed Sev a file folder with her name prominently displayed across the cover.
Sev lobbed the opening volley. “I have one question before you say anything. Have you signed a formal contract yet with Timeless Heirlooms, or are you still on probation?”
She couldn’t believe his nerve. “That’s none of your business,” she retorted, stung.
“Answer me, Francesca.” His quiet tone gentled the implacable demand. “Have you signed with them?”
“I intend to, just as soon as I tell you what I think of you.”
He simply nodded, but she caught a hint of relief that came and went in his expression. “Would you care to sit?”
“I prefer to do this standing.” Her hands curled into fists. “You used me. You
used me to try and take over TH. I’m here to tell you that you’ve failed. And I’m also here to tell you that I think you’re despicable.”
“Let’s set the record straight on several points.” He stood, tossing the folder Nicolò had given him to one side. “When we first met—hell, when we first made love—I had no idea who you were. Maybe if I’d answered my cell when Marco phoned that night, I would have. But if you recall, I was a little preoccupied and he didn’t get through to me until the next morning.”
She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. “I’m not buying it. You could have discovered my identity before you ever arrived at the showing.”
“It would have been possible, I suppose. But the fact is, I didn’t.” He stalked closer. “Next point. The Fontaines and I were already negotiating the sale of Timeless Heirlooms before you and I ever met. Tina knew I intended to buy them out, either when she eventually sold out to me, or after she was forced to declare bankruptcy. That hasn’t changed.”
“But you hadn’t counted on the success of the showing.”
“No.”
“Or that they might acquire Juliet Bloom as their spokeswoman. Or that she would use their collection in her next film.”
“Correction. Your collection. And Juliet Bloom has postponed her decision.” He paused a beat. “Indefinitely.”
Undisguised fury ripped through Francesca. “Because you told her that you had a collection as good as TH’s. That you had the perfect designer for her. Me.” He didn’t deny it and desolation battled with anger. “You thought you could hire me away from the Fontaines and steal the Bloom account so they’d be forced to sell to you.”
“Yes.”
The simple confirmation cut deep. “You’re not even going to deny it?” Please deny it!
“Why should I? It’s true. If you’d accepted my job offer that’s exactly how it would have gone down.” For the first time, she saw a businessman instead of her lover. “That’s how it’s still going down.”
She shook her head, so angry she could barely see straight. So heartbroken she could barely feel past the pain. “Not a chance in hell. Do you think I’d ever agree to work for you after this? That I’ll ever sleep with you again?”