by Day Leclaire
He could see the frustration eating at her. “Why is my presence so important?”
“Because it aligns you with your new employer in a public setting.”
She paled. “Will the Fontaines be there?”
“I assume so.” Compassion filled him. “You’re going to have to face them sometime,” he added gently.
For a brief, heartrending moment, her chin trembled. Then she firmed it and squared her shoulders. “Fine. We might as well get it over with. Where is it, and what time should I arrive?”
“It’s at Le Premier again.” He sympathized with her slight flinch, understanding that she probably regarded the hotel as the scene of her downfall. Or at the very least, the point where her life took a sharp, painful ninety-degree turn. “I’ll pick you up at your apartment at eight.”
“Not a chance—”
“Don’t.” He cut her off without compunction. “You’re not going to win, so don’t waste your energy fighting me.”
Her chin shot up. “It’s your way or . . . what? You’ll fire me?”
He didn’t bother answering. She knew the terms of their contract without him reiterating them. He approached, drawn by a force beyond his ability to control. “Do you really want to turn our relationship into a war when there are so many better ways we could expend our time and energy?”
Passion exploded across her face. Unfortunately, anger drove it rather than desire. “I refuse to fall into your arms after you’ve forced me into this situation. How could you think I would?”
“Then don’t fall.” He caught her close and offered a teasing smile. “Trip a little and I’ll catch you.”
Her anger vied with a naked longing and she splayed her hands across his chest to hold him off. “Please don’t do this, Sev. Either let me work for you or let me go. But if you keep forcing the issue, we’ll end up despising each other.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the silken feel of her curls rivaling that of her skin. “I could never despise you.” His smile tilted. “But maybe that’s all you feel for me.”
She closed her eyes. “I—I don’t despise you.”
He knew how hard her confession came. He leaned into her, basking in her feminine warmth. Somehow, someway, he’d find a way to fix this, while still protecting Dantes and all the people who depended on him.
Somehow.
Francesca dressed with more than her usual care. She tried to tell herself she did it for her own peace of mind, that the extra pains she took helped give her the strength and composure she needed to face the Fontaines, as well as others in the industry who felt she’d sold out. But that would be a lie. Everything she did to prepare for the night ahead was with one person in mind.
Sev.
She checked the mirror a final time. The sleek bronze-toned dress hugged her curves, while her hairstyle, a simple knot at the base of her neck, helped draw attention to the topaz chandelier earrings she’d designed before joining Timeless Heirlooms. In fact, it had been one of the pieces that convinced Kurt and Tina to hire her. Checking the mirror a final time, she nodded in satisfaction. Simple and understated, while subtly advertising why her talents were currently in such high demand. Or at least she hoped that would be the overall reaction.
Promptly at eight, Sev knocked at her door. His single sweeping look convinced Francesca she’d chosen the perfect ensemble. Hot molten hunger exploded in his gaze. She fell back a step before the wall of heat radiating off him. Heaven help her, when had her apartment grown so small? And when had Sev grown so large? Even worse, after everything he’d done, why did she still long to throw herself in his arms and surrender everything to him? It didn’t make a bit of sense.
“Tesoro mio,” he murmured. The lyricism she’d come to associate with him caressed the words. “You stagger me.”
Good. She wanted him staggered. She wanted to knock him clean off his feet. It seemed only fair considering he’d done the same to her. Not that she’d allow any hint of that to show. Behind her, the bed called to her, whispering such innovative suggestions, it brought a blush to her cheeks. She gathered up her wrap and purse. Time to leave. She didn’t dare stay another second in such close confines with Sev. Not with her bed misbehaving. Stupid bed.
She suffered the short drive to Le Premier in silence, reluctant to do or say anything that might put her mental and emotional state in jeopardy. The next few hours would prove incredibly difficult and she wanted a few minutes to prepare herself, to slam every barrier she possessed into place. She succeeded beautifully, right up until he helped her from the car.
Leaning down in a sweet, intimate move, he whispered in her ear, “Back to the scene of the crime.”
“Yours or mine?” She managed to ask the question with barely a tremor to betray her agitation.
“Mine,” he claimed without hesitation. “I accept full blame for what happened here.”
“Considering how little resistance I offered, that’s rather generous of you.”
He gathered her hand in his and tucked it through the crook of his arm. “Not at all. Because if I had to do it over again, I would.”
She stiffened in outrage. “You’d blackmail me into leaving the Fontaines?”
He looked down at her, his eyes burning with tarnished lights. “I’d steal you away and make love to you until morning broke.” A teasing smile came and went. “And then I’d blackmail you, if only to keep you close.”
Francesca didn’t know how to respond to his provocative statement, so she remained silent. If he noticed her discomfort, he didn’t let on, chatting casually with associates and taking pains to introduce her as “the most talented designer he’d ever met.” To her relief, the first part of the evening passed without a hitch. She and Sev wandered through the ballroom, examining the various offerings available for bid. He paused to show her the three pieces Dantes’ donated to the cause.
They were all wedding rings, of course. The first she saw featured a “fancy” yellow diamond in a vintage setting that whispered of romantic styles from the late nineteenth century. A Verdonia Royal amethyst complemented the diamond. The second ring appeared more sophisticated, the diamond solitaire a clear stone in a swirl of platinum with a round brilliant cut. But Francesca found it too cold for her taste. Moving on to the third ring, she froze, not even realizing she held her breath until she released it on a prolonged sigh. Never had she seen anything so beautiful.
“Is this a fire diamond?” she asked in amazement.
She’d heard of them, of course, but had never been fortunate enough to see one, let alone use them in any of the jewelry she designed. She’d read that the fire of its transformation from coal to diamond lingered at its very heart and gave the gemstone its name. Sure enough, she could see the flames that licked outward from the fiery depths. Mesmerized, she could only stare in awe.
“There’s only one mine that produces them and Dantes owns it,” he confirmed. “They’re even more rare than pink diamonds.”
The fire diamond was breathtaking in its simplicity, and yet the band lifted it from stunning to extraordinary. Woven together into a gorgeous setting that combined gold with white gold, it provided a perfect backdrop for the stone.
“Two disparate halves made one,” he explained.
“Oh, Sev,” she murmured. “I wish I’d designed this. It’s magnificent.”
He shot her a look of amusement intermingled with pride. “Primo will be delighted to hear you think so, since he created it. It’s one of a kind.”
“And you’re auctioning it off?” She stared at him in dismay. “How can you bear for it to go out of the family?”
“It’s for a good cause.”
Over the next few hours Francesca forgot her animosity toward Sev. She had so much fun examining all the donated items, she didn’t even remember the Fontaines and the strong possibility she’d run into them. When the time came for Primo’s ring to go up on the block, she waited anxiously to see who would claim it. To her sur
prise, Sev put in the winning bid at the very last minute.
“Now I know why you weren’t worried.” She gave a wry grin. “I should have known.”
He inclined his head. “Yes, you should. Primo would have killed me if I’d lost that final bid. Wait here for a minute while I retrieve it.”
He left her side to go and claim the ring. No sooner had he disappeared from sight than she caught a glimpse of the Fontaines. Every other thought fled as she stood frozen in place, utterly vulnerable to the approaching storm. Before they reached her, Sev reappeared with a ring box bearing the distinctive Dantes logo.
Spotting the Fontaines, Sev dropped a hand to her shoulder. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“I’m all right. Really. I’m fine.” So why did her voice sound so thread and terrified?
“You will be.” He gently turned her toward him. Lifting her hand, he slid Primo’s ring onto her finger. “Trust me.”
She glanced down, stunned. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to fix things. To protect you.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“I need you to go along with what’s about to happen.” He spoke low and urgently. “I owe you this much, sweetheart. Hell, I owe you far more.”
Before she could demand a further explanation, the Fontaines descended. Sev greeted them with a broad smile. “You can be the first to congratulate us.” He held up her left hand. The fire diamond caught the light and burst into flames. “Francesca just agreed to marry me.”
“You must be kidding.” Disbelief overrode Tina’s anger. “This is a joke, right?”
Kurt studied Francesca with open concern. “This is sudden.”
Did she look as dazed as she felt? Probably. She’d never handled surprises well. She’d learned long ago that surprises meant something unpleasant. Like losing a parent. Like being adopted and then returned. Like moving to a new foster home. “I—”
“She’s still in shock,” Sev said with an understanding smile. “She didn’t see it coming.”
“You think I believe this?” Tina demanded. “You think I believe you’ve actually fallen in love with her?”
Sev tucked Francesca close in a protective hold. “Why do you find it so difficult to believe?” A hard note underscored the question. “Do you consider her so unlovable?”
“Just the opposite,” Tina snapped. She started to reach for Francesca before realizing what she’d almost done and snatched her hand back. “It’s you I don’t trust, Dante. She may be too inexperienced to figure out what you’re up to, but I’m not. You’ve romanced her away from Timeless Heirlooms because she’s our best designer. You know perfectly well that without her—” Her voice broke.
It was Kurt’s turn to pull his wife into protective arms. “Don’t, love. At least now we know what happened.”
Tears flooded Francesca’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You have no idea how badly I feel.”
“Give it time,” Tina shot back. “You’re going to feel a lot worse before he’s done with you. The only reason he’s romancing you is to facilitate his takeover of TH. You realize that, don’t you?”
Francesca couldn’t bring herself to respond to the question. How could she when every word Tina spoke was the truth? Her fingers dug into Sev’s arm as she struggled to keep from bursting into tears. She needed to get away. Now. “Excuse me, won’t you?”
Spinning free of Sev’s embrace, she pushed her way through the crowd of people. She needed air, needed time to regroup. She adored Tina and Kurt, had wanted to spend the bulk of her career working for them. At least, that had been her dream. But Sev changed all that, turning her life upside down.
She gazed down at the engagement ring gracing her finger. And now he’d tried to restore her relationship with the Fontaines. To put himself in the line of fire, instead of her. What he didn’t realize was how difficult she found wearing this ring. To her an engagement ring symbolized a soul-deep love. A promise that she’d have someone at her side who cherished her and would be her lifelong partner. This gorgeous, incredible, breathtaking ring was nothing more than a sham. It wasn’t real.
And more than ever, it left her feeling like an outsider.
Chapter Eight
Sev stood there, annoyed to discover himself acting the part of the stereotypical hapless male as Francesca disappeared into the crowd in one direction, and an infuriated Tina stormed off in the opposite. Sev stopped Kurt before he could charge after his wife. For Francesca’s sake, he had to find a way to make this right.
“Francesca didn’t have any choice,” Sev stated. “You realize that, don’t you?”
Kurt swung around with a snarl, shaking free of Sev’s hold. “I realize you forced her to quit a promising job with us and go to work for you.”
Sev fought for patience. “It wouldn’t have worked, Kurt. It would have put her in an impossible position. Because of our relationship, she’d have been trapped between you and Tina, and the Dantes. She’d have had to watch every word she said, both at work and at home for fear of betraying one side or the other.”
Kurt’s anger hadn’t diminished, but he still stood there, which counted for something. “So, you made her choose between us?”
“Yes. She doesn’t deserve your anger. The only thing she’s guilty of is falling in love. Her decision hurt you. Trust me when I say that same decision hurt her every bit as much. She adores you and Tina. You’ve been her mentors. Her friends. Her family. She owes you everything, and don’t think she isn’t aware of that fact.”
Kurt’s expression softened ever so slightly, right up until he looked at Sev. “And you?” he asked harshly. “Is Tina right? Is this your clever way of getting your hands on TH?”
“I don’t need Francesca to do that. TH will be mine whether she’s working for you, or for me.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Kurt . . .” Sev grimaced. “Talk to Tina. The two of you are important to Francesca.”
“Important enough to get you to back off?”
Sev couldn’t prevent a smile. If circumstances had been different he might have formed a friendship with Kurt. He’d prefer that over their current contentious relationship. “Good try, Fontaine, but it isn’t going to happen. Why don’t you and Tina make it easy on yourselves and sell out? I’ll give you an excellent price.”
“Not interested.”
Sev shrugged. “I didn’t think so, but it was worth a try.” He hesitated. “Will you talk to Tina?”
Kurt released his breath in a rough sigh. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her. I don’t expect it’ll change anything. But I will encourage her not to take her anger out on Francesca.”
“I’m the one at fault. Tell her to keep me in the crosshairs where I belong, and we’ll all do just fine.”
With an abrupt nod, Kurt turned and walked away. Sev had no idea whether his plan stood a chance in hell of success. For Francesca’s sake, he had to try. She deserved an opportunity to get to know her father, but because he’d been so focused on Dantes and his plans for the business, he’d stolen that opportunity from her. No. Not just stolen. He’d effectively annihilated any chance of it ever happening. If he could restore that much, maybe, just maybe, he could live with the guilt he felt over the rest.
Sev went after Francesca, not in the least surprised to find she’d retreated to the balcony off the ballroom. It was where they’d first met and he struggled not to read anything into her choice. She stood by the railing, her back to him. He could tell she sensed him the instant he appeared in the doorway, her awareness betrayed by the mantle of stillness that settled over her.
He approached. “I’m sorry to spring that engagement ring on you, sweetheart.”
“Have you lost your mind?” She threw the question over her shoulder without turning. “What in the world were you thinking?”
“That I was Nicolò, I guess.”
That did prompt her to swing around. “This was Nicolò�
�s idea?”
“Hell, no. I get all the credit for this one.” Sev scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Or should I say blame? I just meant, it’s the sort of crazy scheme he’d have come up with.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you do such a thing?”
He shrugged. “I had to try and fix the problem somehow.”
“Because that’s your job. To fix things.” It wasn’t a question.
“It always has been,” he answered simply. “Since the day my father died, I’m all that stood between Dantes succeeding or going under.”
“Well, I’m not some business you have to rebuild. You don’t have to fix things for me,” she insisted. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time now. I don’t need you to step in and assume the job at this late date.”
Strongly stated. Maybe a bit too strongly. “Just out of curiosity . . .” He cocked his head to one side. “Have you ever needed anyone since you turned eighteen?”
He caught the faintest of quivers before she stiffened her chin. “No.”
He lowered his voice to a caress. “Or should I ask, have you ever wanted anyone?”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “It’s not fair. I want permanence, not temporary.”
“Not a string of foster homes.”
She conceded the accuracy of his observation with a small nod. “Growing up I always felt I had to change who I was so I’d fit in, that being myself wasn’t good enough. I refuse to do that any longer. I won’t pretend to be something or someone I’m not, not any longer.” She tugged at the ring he’d given her. “This doesn’t belong on my finger. Not until it’s the real thing.”
He stopped her before she could remove it, closing his hand over hers. “Leave it there for the time being. I forced you to work for me. Caused dissension for you both at Timeless and at Dantes. The ring will help protect you. It may even right a few wrongs.”
She hesitated. “What’s the point? It has to come off sometime.”
“But not yet.” Not until he’d had time to come up with a resolution to their problems. “Listen to me, honey. There’s a very good possibility that our engagement will give you the opportunity to reestablish a relationship with the Fontaines. They’re less likely to blame you for leaving them if they believe I forced the issue. They could be part of your life again. You might not see your father as often as you would if you still worked for TH. But at least they won’t be angry with you any longer.”