A Reputation to Uphold (9 page)

‘Dante, listen, I—’ The car rocked to a stop and her attention veered to the stunning black and white façade of
the
most exclusive jewellery store in London.

Thump, thump
went her heart as she soaked in the sight...the dim interior. And relief zigzagged through her body. ‘It’s in complete darkness. Oh, what a shame,’ she said, sounding suitably disappointed. ‘It’s closed.’

‘Good,’ Dante said, face now schooled into impassivity.

Eva frowned, then jolted as the car moved forward, negotiated a tight corner and pulled down an alleyway, coming to a dead stop outside a large, ominous black door. Oh,
hell
. ‘Is this the tradesmens’ entrance?’

‘I believe so,’ he drawled with a self-satisfied smirk she wanted to swipe off his face. He was enjoying this, she realised. The sadistic snake.

A phalanx of bodyguards walked from the car behind—a car she’d had no idea was following them—and took up position standing sentinel either side of a vault-like doorway, which began to open with eerily slow precision. Eva felt as if she was watching some horror movie from behind a cushion and this was the moment where the heroine lost every brain cell she was born with and walked headlong into the temple of doom.

‘Let’s go,’ said Dante, unfolding his long muscular frame from the car. Standing tall, he swept one broad hand down the front of his jacket as he waited for her to alight.

Except her bottom was adhered to the leather, making her feel all kinds of stupid. What on earth was wrong with her? You’d think she was walking down the aisle to wed the devil himself, not buying a
fake
engagement ring.

‘Eeeva?’ he ground out.

‘Yes, I know. I know.’ Swallowing around the lump lodged in her throat, she shimmied across, took Dante’s proffered hand and plastered a smile on her face that would place the Cheshire cat in the unemployment line.

A rotund grey-haired man hovered at the open doorway, bowing to Dante with a smile almost as big as hers. Although she doubted it was costing him the same extortionate price—three years’ worth of facial tightness at least. When Dante squeezed her hand with hot, virile strength and stroked a seductive circle over the plump ball of her thumb a ripple danced along her veins and she boosted that estimation to ten.

‘Good morning, Edward,’ Dante said. First-name terms. She should’ve guessed.

‘Sir, it is an honour to see you again.’

Again? Oh,
great
. He must’ve brought Rebecca here for her
fake
ring too. Humiliation nipped her cheeks and she wished there was a crack in the paving to slither through. Being one of many was not a condition she’d ever strived for. And for some reason she wondered if her father had taken all his wives to the same shop for multi-purchase discount.

Edward welcomed them into his dark lair with quiet aplomb and Eva twisted her wrist this way and that, attempting to wriggle her hand from Dante’s hold.
Nada.
So, with her free hand, she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, tugging him back a little so she could hiss a violent whisper. ‘We should’ve gone to a different shop. The man’s going to think you’re a serial fiancé!’

‘I could not care less,’ he said, his dark voice booming down the hall, making her wince.

‘Shh.’

‘Why?’

‘Because...well...’ Yes, Eva,
why
? If he didn’t care what people thought of him, why should she? He was so unapologetic. She should hate that, she really should. Her brain was obviously warped because she found it hot. Sexy as hell. Not a good sign. ‘You’re right,’ she muttered so only he could hear. ‘Who cares if you escort two fiancées here in one week?’

They were shown into a large lounge area, the walls adorned with sensual boudoir-type prints that sent heat, fast and furious, coursing through her body.
Oh, boy
. What with the erotic red walls, enormous black velvet couches, seductive mirror-top tables and the low crystal chandeliers bouncing shards of shimmering light off every surface, she began to wonder if this place sold more than jewellery. Never in her life had she seen such carnal opulence. It was seriously evocative, yet bizarrely romantic. Dizzyingly so.

‘I want a diamond, Edward.’ Dante’s unyielding command knocked the air from her lungs so, by the time he encouraged her to sit upon a velvet sofa, she could do nothing more than obey with a slump. Dante shot her a quizzical glance as he sat beside her.

Too close.
Oh, boy
, was he trying to sit on top of her?

‘I want the most beautiful diamond in the world, Edward. For the most beautiful lady, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Absolutely, sir.’

Oozing deference, Edward slid a small tray in front of them and Eva’s eyelids fluttered as sweat prickled behind her knees. She inhaled a deep stuttering breath.

‘Eva?’ Dante said, a tinge of concern in his voice colouring the question. And still she kept breathing, trying to work out what was bothering her so much. The room? Dante?

Then his scent—so dark, so rich—drifted up her nose, wrapping around her senses, so when he nuzzled her neck she curled her face towards him with a basic instinct. Wanting to be closer. To relieve the need pulsing through her body, thrumming against the lace of her knickers.

Dante dropped an open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder...tugged gently on her earlobe with his front teeth—flooding her core with liquid heat—and whispered in her ear, ‘You are the first woman I have ever brought here. I often buy specialist stock from Edward for retail. There is no need to feel embarrassment,
tesoro
.’

Heart thumping, she eased back a touch, slowly opened her eyes and locked them on to his beautiful dark depths, glittering with sincerity. His recognition of her embarrassment was around ten minutes too late, but it was something, wasn’t it? ‘Okay.’
Pull yourself together, Eva. Think temporary torture, long-term happiness.

Content she was back in the game, she moved her attention to Edward’s small smile, to his assistant—a pretty, elf-like blonde—who heaved a long blissful sigh behind him.

‘See anything you like, madam?’ Edward asked.

Eva scanned the selection of diamonds. Huge, whopping diamonds. Ovals, squares, pears, hearts—blurring into one huge white nothingness, much like the pit of her stomach. Where were the price tags? How did she know if he could return it?

‘No.’ Dante’s unimpressed voice shot through the haze. ‘Too plain.’

Edward nodded his assent, lifted the tray from the table and swivelled on his heel.

Dante slipped his hand between the tight slit of her clenched thighs and she nigh on jumped off the couch. Had to bite her tongue to stop from yelping. Because, honest to God, she was sure that awesome body of his could fuel the energy supply for an entire nation.

‘Relax,’ he said, silky, sinful. ‘You are too tense. Choose what calls to you.’

Another tray. Another pad. More diamonds. More carats than Lexi, her old precious mare, would munch through in a week. None of them called anything except
run
, gallop for your life. ‘You choose. I don’t care.’

Dante’s fingers bit angrily into her inner thigh for one, two, three beats of her cantering heart.

‘Scharrt,’ he ordered with a calm severity that fired another burst of hot tingles through her bloodstream.

A small feminine gasp rent the air and Eva glanced at Edward, whose eyes lit with unabashed delight.
Scharrt.

Excitement enhanced the crackling atmosphere, so she knew it had nothing to do with spreadsheets—they were the most boring things in the world. Whereas Dante, the financial genius probably got off on them. Another difference. Another divide. Another reason she’d never have been enough for him all those years ago. Compared to Finn and Dante, Eva’s B grades made her intellectually challenged.

The elfin blonde began to vibrate as a crushed velvet pad the colour of midnight appeared in front of Dante. One fleeting glance and Eva’s heart stopped. Dead.

Edward’s voice came to her as if spoken from the other side of reality. ‘The stunning emerald-cut yellow diamond with trilliant-cut white diamond shoulders. Totalling thirty-eight point one carats. One of rarest diamonds in the world, sir.’

Dante picked up the ring, took her hand from where it lay fisted on her lap and uncurled her fingers with a gentle stroke.
This is not happening. This is not real
, she repeated inwardly, fighting the tremble starting in her toes and meandering up her legs, spiralling through her midriff.

Dante slid the heavy platinum band along her finger, nudged it over her knuckle and embedded it deep. ‘Perfect fit,’ he murmured.

Perfect. It was perfect. From the cool platinum band to the sparkling diamonds flanking the shoulders to the biggest, most beautiful stone she’d ever seen—the most gorgeous rich shade of yellow. It was the ring of fairy tales. Of handsome princes and happy-ever-afters. It was the ring a man gave to the woman he loved beyond reason. It was for her clients. It was
not
for her. Because the gesture was as cold and empty as her stomach, whose pangs she felt every time she looked at it.

Breakfast. She must be starving. That was what this was all about. She needed to eat—

‘We’ll take it,’ he said.

‘No!’ Hand shooting to Dante’s thigh, she gripped his honed flesh, felt it tense beneath her fingers. Felt the answering fizz in her blood. Ignored it.

The notion that she was supposed to be play-acting came a second too late and she scrambled for a ditzy
oh, gosh
look and turned towards Dante with a flirty coyness she hoped she remembered how to pull off. ‘What I meant was...it’s too much. You don’t need to prove your...’ She couldn’t say it. Love. It was a total, utter lie. She, who loathed lying, was living a lie. Lying to everyone around her. ‘It’s not right.’

Dante gave her an admiring glance that said her
performance
was Oscar-worthy and sank his hand into the nape of her neck. The touch of his fingertips against her scalp... The way he tugged her to him with ferocious need...
Oh, boy
. And then his breath shimmied over her tongue as he spoke against her lips, just loud enough for everyone to hear. ‘Nothing is too much for the woman of my heart,
tesoro
.’

Another blissful sigh came from...somewhere. Realisation hit and her eyelids fluttered closed.
Oh
, he was seriously good. And she’d never hated him more. Or maybe she had. Yes, yes, of course she had. When he’d left her in the pool-house, promised he would come back. Swore he wouldn’t leave. Yet he’d disappeared into the night like a dark phantom. When she’d needed him the most. Just like her father had left her mother.

Self-preservation knocked the pain from her chest and she twisted her head to speak low in his ear. ‘I’ll get you for this, Vitale.’

Drawing back, he loaded up that mouth with enough sex appeal to slay half the female population, snagged her hand and swooped up from the couch.

‘Send me the bill, Edward.’

Yank
, he tugged her down the hall in his wake. As far as social development went, it was one touch away from clubbing her over the head with a mallet and tossing her over his shoulder. Not that she cared. Speed was definitely of the essence.

Fresh and crisp, December stung her face but it was sheer bliss to Eva and she tore her hand free and darted towards the car door being opened before her.

From nowhere one steel arm blocked her way and suddenly Dante stood smack bang in front of her. ‘Ready?’

God, yes, she wanted out of here. Away from him. What planet had she been orbiting when she’d agreed to this loony scheme? It was possibly the stupidest idea in the universe.
Temporary torture. Long-term happiness
. Just remember what type of man he is—a predator who devours and discards.

‘Yes, I’m more than ready,’ she said. ‘And if you think for one minute I’m going through this again—’

‘Good.’

Slam
went that full sexy mouth over hers, obliterating her every thought and dropping her headlong back into the inferno. Heat doused every inch of her, soaking her in his blistering formidable power. The ground whipped from beneath her feet, her heart flipped over in her chest and, with one touch of his warm tongue against hers, she was riding a demon wave of scorching lava.

Anchoring herself, she reached up, vaguely noticing the strange weight on her left hand as she speared her fingers into his gorgeous thick hair. And,
oh, boy
, he tasted of sex and sin and dark bitter chocolate. He tasted of Dante. Of everything she remembered and more. More power. More strength. More passion. More. More. More.

Lips slanting, firm and lush, he devoured her mouth with long, leisurely licks, leaving her restless, breathless.

Maybe she closed the gap, maybe he did, but suddenly they were flush-tight, silken-clad iron crushing her breasts, steely fingers dominating...gripping her nape, keeping her to him, as if he never wanted to let go. As if he wanted her, wanted her so much.

And suddenly, with the same speed he’d lunged for the kill, Dante loosened his grip and Eva rocked back on her heels, swaying on her feet as the earth spun and lights exploded behind her eyes.

‘Perfect,
cara
,’ Dante said in a voice that solidified the heat in her midriff to a block of ice. ‘That should do very nicely. Now we can be
certain
of what we will wake to find tomorrow. And let’s have no more talk of the need to
fake
anything.’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘
A
RE YOU HAPPY
now, Vitale? Once again, there I am. Smack bang on the front page!’

Eva’s voice shot down the phone line and would’ve easily burst his eardrum if
he hadn’t been holding the phone ten inches away. ‘Good afternoon to you too,
cara
.’

‘Don’t
cara
me. You set me up!’

No, what he’d actually done was set
himself
up for an endless night of physical torture.