Dante's Honor-Bound Husband (3 page)

That The Inferno
wasn't
forever.

Gianna hesitated, still unwilling to tell her mother the entire truth. She chose her words with care. “Maybe it's different because I'm a woman instead of a man,” she suggested. “Maybe it only went one way and he doesn't feel what I do.”

“If that were so, Constantine wouldn't be here.”

“Maybe I can take The Inferno back,” she dared to suggest.

Elia simply laughed. “That's not possible. The Inferno is forever.”

Oh, but it wasn't. Gianna set her chin. “It doesn't matter if Constantine is here now. It's too late.”

A mother's wisdom gleamed in Elia's dark eyes. “That's your pride speaking, not your heart.”

“I've moved on,” Gianna insisted, wincing at the de
fensive edge underscoring her words. “I'm dating David d'Angelo now.”

“Well, he is Italian…like Constantine,” her mother conceded. “And comes from a good Fiorentini family, though not one anywhere near as noble as the Romanos.”

“Maybe not, but they're respected bankers.”

The family was even receiving some sort of banking award in another few months. As for David, he possessed stunning good looks. Granted, they were more classical than swashbuckling. More attractive even than her brother, Rafe, whom the family called the “pretty Dante.” Not that David could help his looks.

As for his personality, he couldn't be nicer. Even if Primo had muttered
untuoso
under his breath, which had bothered Gianna no end since she didn't consider David the least unctuous. Nonna adored him, which counted for a lot. David was intelligent, respectful and amusing, despite possessing the faintest air of entitlement.

And if he hadn't told her he was Italian by birth, she'd never have guessed it by his accent, perhaps as a result of his studying abroad for so many years. Now that she thought about it, other than his intelligence he was as different from Constantine as a bird of paradise from a panther.

“David's not like Constantine,” Elia murmured, the comment an uncomfortable echo of Gianna's own thoughts.

“He is in some ways,” she argued. “But the important point here is that I like him very much. That's all that matters, right?”

Elia made a face and set her cup and saucer aside. “
Like.
What an insipid word. Would you really trade an earth-shattering passion for a tepid ‘like'?”

“It's safer,” Gianna whispered.

Safer not to surrender to the dangerous emotions flaring back to life. Safer not to allow the more impetuous side
of her nature free rein. Safer to like a nice guy than to love someone as dangerous to her emotional stability as Constantine Romano.

“I spoke to Ariana about the situation.”

Uh-oh. “She and Lazz are still in Italy?” Gianna asked, hoping to turn the conversation in a new direction. No doubt a wasted effort.

“Yes. For another two months.” Sure enough, her mother lasered back to her point. “According to her, Constantine's come back for you.”

“His sister is a romantic. The Inferno has a way of doing that to you. I guarantee that before she met Lazz she was the most pragmatic of people.” Gianna made a face in the mirror. “That's what The Inferno does to people. It messes with them.”

“Mmm.” The sound was one of delighted agreement. “With luck you will soon discover yourself in the middle of your own Inferno mess.”

The comment contained a reminiscent tone and Gianna suspected her mother was recalling when she'd first fallen in love with Gianna's father, Alessandro. Though her parents' relationship could be tumultuous on occasion, there'd never been a doubt in her mind that they shared a white-hot passion, as well as being utterly devoted to each other.

“No, thanks, Mamma. I think I'll stick with David.”

“I'm sure Constantine will try to change your mind about that.” Elia paused for a beat, before adding, “And I suspect, you hope he'll succeed.”

Since Gianna couldn't think of a response to that painful bit of homespun truth, she set the salmon gown aside and carried the bronze confection to the front desk. If only…came the wistful thought. If only The Inferno had worked as well between her and Constantine instead of backfiring so badly. Maybe she'd be sitting in a chair with that delicious
smile on her face, lost in memories of endless days and nights filled with an eternal love.

If only.

 

As always, David arrived right on time. He looked spectacular in his tux, the light brown hair and turquoise eyes he'd inherited from the northern branch of the d'Angelo family giving him a movie-star sheen. It wasn't a coincidence that his coloring was the complete opposite of Constantine's. If he'd possessed hair as dark as night and eyes like jet, she'd never have agreed to go out with him the first time he'd asked. In fact, she hadn't. It had taken a full three months of patient persistence before she'd caved to his barrage of invitations.

He greeted her with a slow, easy kiss that didn't come close to impacting the way Constantine's had. If she were perfectly honest with herself, his kisses left her cold. No doubt she could thank The Inferno for that unfortunate wrinkle. She'd hoped—heaven help her but she'd hoped—that she'd been mistaken about what she'd felt when she and Constantine first touched. That at some point she'd begin to feel a modicum of that sort of desire for David. It was possible, regardless of what her relatives thought.

If their embraces lacked a certain spark, David never seemed to notice. And sure enough, he didn't this time, either. Perhaps he wasn't in the position to make the sort of comparison she could. He pulled back and studied her, his gaze warming in appreciation. He gestured toward her hair and gown. “You look stunning, Gia.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Aware of the tepidness of her response, she gave him an impulsive hug. What was wrong with her? David was drop-dead gorgeous. He'd made it clear that he wanted her, that his intentions were both honorable and serious—his
words, which she found quite endearing. Regardless of how endearing, she just couldn't bring herself to take their relationship to the next level. And now that Constantine had returned…

No! She wouldn't go there. Couldn't. Constantine had made his feelings all too clear months ago when he'd left her. When he'd proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that The Inferno hadn't taken root with him the way it had with her. She'd moved on, and the man she'd chosen stood in front of her. David was everything she could ask for. A dedicated banker in international finance with a bright future ahead of him. A physique that left women drooling. And a calm, practical nature that balanced her more passionate, impulsive one. Maybe The Inferno would strike later in their relationship.

“Ready?” David asked.

“All set.”

“Will the entire family be there?” The question held a certain edginess that had her wincing. David often found her family a bit overwhelming. “Will I finally get to meet Lazz and Ariana, or are they still in Italy?”

The question caught her by surprise. But then, he'd acknowledged a distant, passing acquaintance with the Romanos, so maybe it wasn't all that odd. “They're still on a working holiday for another couple months.”

“A shame,” he murmured, though she suspected a certain insincerity in the comment.

After locking the door of her elegant row house with its pretty gingerbread trim, they crossed to his Jaguar. As always, he opened the door for her, his courtesy an innate part of his personality. They drove to Dantes' corporate office building, chatting about inconsequential matters along the way. They'd almost reached their destination
when David steered the conversation into more turbulent waters.

“I have to fly out to New York next week for a meeting,” he announced after a momentary silence. He flashed her a quick grin. “A very boring meeting.”

He'd mentioned the trip the previous week. “I understand.” She spared him a sympathetic glance. “How long will you be gone this time?”

“Four days. Friday through Monday.”

“Well, that's not too bad. And at least it isn't overseas.”

“No, it's not.” He pulled up to a red light and spared her a brief, meaningful glance that didn't sink in until he added, “I'd like you to come with me. My business won't take long. This particular meeting is more of a formality than anything else.”

“Oh, I don't know, David,” she began.

The light turned green and he continued through the intersection. “I'm not finished.” A single glance at the determined set of his jaw and she fell silent. “I was thinking we'd get a suite at the Ritz.”

The offer came so out of the blue that it took her a moment to switch gears. “The Ritz?” Wow. Then the rest of his comment filtered through. “Wait a minute. Do you mean…share a suite?”

“I mean a romantic weekend.” His mouth compressed. “As in, no family breathing down our necks.”

Gianna stiffened and she swiveled in her seat. “You feel as though my family is breathing down our necks?” she asked, excruciatingly polite.

He didn't take notice of the warning in her voice. “In a word, yes. You're twenty-five, Gianna. We've known each other for six months, been dating for three, but you're still holding me at arm's length.”

“And you think my family's to blame for that?”

He still didn't seem to realize that he'd wandered onto extremely thin ice. How could he have dated her for even a week and not picked up on the fact that family meant everything to her? With the Dantes, family came first and foremost, just as she thought it must with the d'Angelos, despite David's more cosmopolitan lifestyle.
La famiglia,
right?

That also extended beyond blood ties. There was nothing the Dantes loved better than finding someone new to add to the fold. If David weren't so suspicious of their intent, right down to insisting that they keep their relationship on the down low until the past month when he'd finally agreed to be introduced to everyone, he'd have discovered that for himself. But for some reason, David's attitude caused her family to hold him at a cool, polite distance, except for her Nonna.

She saw the Dantes' corporate headquarters come in to sight. “I don't blame your family for the way you've held me at arm's length. Not exactly. I understand that some of it is probably the old-fashioned way you were raised.”

Oh, this just kept getting better and better. “Is that right?” she murmured. “Let me take a wild guess here. You consider me old-fashioned because I haven't jumped in the sack with you like every other woman you've dated.”

“Again, being blunt here. Yes. The rest of the world has moved forward, Gia, but the Dantes are still living in a different century, with all the rules, social mores and restrictions that entails. As you know, I was educated at Oxford and enjoy a very sophisticated lifestyle. My entire family actually lives in the twenty-first century.”

“Unlike mine.” She didn't give him time to respond, instead smiling sweetly. “And for some reason you think a trip to New York will leapfrog me into the current century?”

He countered her smile with a warm, sensuous one of his own. “Hoping, sweetheart. Seriously hoping. Your family is protective. I get that. But still… You're a grown woman, Gia, with emphasis on the
woman.
Why shouldn't you live your life the way you see fit instead of by a set of antiquated rules?”

“Did it ever occur to you that I'm fully aware that I'm a grown woman and that, rather than caving to the old-fashioned dictates of my family, I've deliberately chosen to live by some of those antiquated rules you regard with such disdain?”

He released a sigh. “You're forcing me to spoil the surprise I have planned.” He shot her a swift, smoldering look before lifting her left hand and kissing it, his thumb stroking across her bare ring finger. “A surprise that will give everyone cause for celebration and allow your family to turn a blind eye to our little romantic escapade. What do you say to that, sweetheart?”

Gianna's breath caught. Okay, it didn't take a mental genius to add up those clues. He planned to propose. She chose her response with care. “There's nothing I can say, is there? I mean, it's still a future surprise, not an actual proposition.” She hesitated. “Is it?”

“Not yet. But I'm hoping to hear a loud, excited ‘Yes, David, I will' in the very near future.”

Gianna bit down on her lower lip. Gently disengaging their hands, she glanced out the passenger window at Dantes' corporate offices while she fought for control. Why now? Why tonight of all nights? She strongly suspected Constantine would be at the gala. In fact, knowing her family, she could pretty much guarantee it. How could she possibly consider starting an affair, let alone an engagement, with another man while he stood in the wings watching with that fierce, predatory hunger?

Gianna shivered at the thought. She could pretty much guarantee that if she and Constantine had been dating for three months their relationship would have been consummated long ago, whether they'd planned to wait or not. They wouldn't have been able to help themselves. No doubt, he'd have hustled her to the altar at the earliest moment, considering his family was as “old-fashioned,” not to mention “antiquated,” as hers.

She spared David a brief glance. She always knew this moment would come, when David would force her to make a choice between settling for second best or being alone. She hoped she'd have more time. That her feelings for him would change. But they hadn't and she'd have to make a decision about him—and soon.

He pulled into the parking garage beneath Dantes and slipped into the space reserved for VIP guests. Unbuckling both their seat belts, he surprised her by pulling her into his arms. Then he leaned across the console and kissed her, his warm lips wandering across hers. She allowed the embrace, attempted to lose herself in it.