Dante's Ultimate Gamble (3 page)

She stared up into his face, at the hard, uncompromising features, examining them one by one. He had chiseled cheekbones coupled with a tough, squared jaw. His mouth was wide and sensuous, bracketed by deep grooves that could convey both humor and displeasure depending on his mood. His hair, cut almost military short, was the darkest shade of ebony and showed a tendency to wave, a tendency he kept under ruthless control. But it was his eyes that dominated his face. He possessed the deep, ancient golden eyes of a predator. Eyes that could cut straight through to the soul and lay bare what she most wanted to keep hidden.

He could never be called handsome. Powerful, certainly. Bold. Aggressive. Blatantly masculine. His face had been carved to intimidate, yet had those elements that—despite lacking prettiness—were wildly appealing to women.

Heaven help her, but he was an impressive male specimen. Tough. A body both strong and muscular. And
yet, his touch showed infinite control and tenderness. How was it possible that a man so clearly cut from the cloth of a warrior could also be so gentle?

“What are we doing?” she managed to ask. “What’s happening to us?”

“Dante’s Inferno.”

She shook her head in confusion. “I know it’s an inferno. But why is it so intense?”

She caught the smile he couldn’t suppress and it dazzled her. “No, that’s what it’s called. What we’re experiencing. Or so the legend claims.” He trailed his hand, harshly callused, in a fiery path from throat to breast. She shuddered beneath the dichotomy of rough and soothing. “We call it Dante’s Inferno. It happens to the men in our family when they first meet certain women.”

She managed a laugh. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I have no idea.”

“How long will it last?”

He lowered his head and replaced his hand with his mouth in a leisurely exploration. “I have no idea.”

“If we…” She inhaled sharply, shuddering beneath his roving lips and tongue. Her thoughts scattered for an instant before she gathered them up again. “If we make love, will it go away?”

“I hope so.” He shook his head with a groan. “Or maybe not. Maybe it’ll continue for a while. I wouldn’t mind so long as it’s not permanent. We could work it out of our systems over the next six weeks.”

Relief flooded through her. “But it will go away?”

He reared back, hovering above her like some pagan god. “It better. I’m not like my cousins. They ended up married when it struck. I’m not after the fairy tale or
commitment, or even love. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand any of this,” she confessed.

He shook his head as though to clear it. “This isn’t permanent.” The words were filled with grit and honesty. “This is a temporary affair. It’s sex. That’s all. If you’re expecting a fairy tale ending—”

She allowed a hint of the darkness that had shadowed her over the years to reflect in her gaze. “Don’t worry. I don’t believe in fairy tales. And I definitely don’t believe in happily-ever-after endings.”

“But you believe in this.” He released the front clasp of her bra and cupped her breasts. Sunshine splashed and rippled across her skin, chasing away the darkness. He traced his thumbs across the sensitive tips, eliciting a soft moan. “You believe in the physical, the same as I do. What we can touch. Desire. Sating that desire. You believe in that, don’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be hard to make a believer of me,” she confessed.

His mouth curved to one side and his eyes glittered like sunrays, threatening to blind her with their intensity. “Trust me. By the time I’m finished, you’ll believe.”

She found herself laughing, a sound free and lighthearted and utterly alien to her. She cupped his face and tugged him down, covering that wonderful mouth with her own. His taste intoxicated her and she rejoiced in the dizzying explosion of pleasure. For long minutes they kissed, slow and sultry. Deep and wet. Learning. Testing. Discovering. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Téa tugged at Luc’s shirt, struggling to find the buttons and holes and get one through the other. They resisted all efforts and impatient with her own lack of
skill, she simply ripped at the edges until buttons pinged all around them. To her delight the edges of his shirt parted and she swept her hands across a broad chest, sharply delineated by gorgeous dips and ridges of toned muscle and sinew.

She’d never felt so free with a man before and she took her time, exploring this one to her heart’s content. She rubbed the flat discs of his nipples and bit into his golden flesh, soothing the small mark with her tongue. A soft groan rumbled through his chest, caught within the palms of her hands, and she rejoiced in having provoked the reaction. She’d never wielded so much feminine power. It was a heady sensation.

She took a circuitous route in a southern direction, exploring all the side roads and byways of what she bared, until she hit a roadblock. She made short work of it, her fingers coordinated for a change. The belt parted, the zip of his trousers rasped downward and she slid her hands to the very heart of all that heat and masculinity.

He was hard and swollen, sliding into her hands with greedy urgency. She’d never done this before, either. Never given full rein to her curiosity and her own need to explore. But she couldn’t help herself. Not this time. Not with Luc. He didn’t stop her or attempt to take charge. Instead he encouraged her with soft, biting kisses and velvety, rough words.

She sensed the effort it took to control himself, could see the iron grip he maintained in order to hold himself back. Instead he devoted himself to stripping away her barriers. Bit by bit her clothes drifted away, her blouse and bra, her skirt and stockings, until all that remained was a scrap of triangular silk guarding her core. She
was so caught up in her own exploration that she barely noticed.

Until he turned the tables on her.

Just as she familiarized herself with his body, he began to map hers. First her mouth and throat. Then her breasts and abdomen. Degree by degree he turned up the heat, catching her unaware until desire swamped her in great crashing waves, turning her mindless with need. She stared up at him in utter confusion.

“What are you doing?”

The laughter gleamed again. “Can’t you tell?”

“We’re making love. I…” Her eyes fluttered closed and she fought to draw breath, to gather her wits long enough to speak. “I don’t remember this part.”

“This part?” He spread her thighs and feathered a line of kisses from the curve of her knee to her inner thigh.

“No,” she quavered. “Not that part.”

Before she could even draw breath, he stripped away her panties. “What about this part?”

And then he kissed her, a kiss more intimate than she’d ever known before. A climax ripped through her, unexpected and violent and utterly spectacular. The sound that escaped her was part scream and part denial. She’d never…! Not ever. Pieces of her lay scattered all over the bed and it was several long minutes before she could gather them up and paste them together well enough to speak again.

“Not that part,” she said. “I definitely don’t remember that part.”

“We’ll have to do it again, just to keep your memory refreshed.” He fumbled in the drawer beside him. An instant later she heard the distinctive crinkle of foil. “But not right now. Now we have other refreshing to do.”

She lay beneath him, stretched in more ways than she could count. Stretched to the edge by a desire that still hadn’t been quite sated. Stretched by muscles still quivering and clenching from the aftermath of her climax. Stretched emotionally by a man she’d just met. A man she’d allowed to touch her in ways she’d never before allowed. A man she’d allowed in, or who had forced his way in. She was too overwhelmed to figure out which.

Before she could analyze it further, he came down on top of her. His hands—such tender, powerful hands—slid deep into her hair, anchoring her. Their gazes locked and held, and she felt herself sink into him just as his body sank into hers, mating them together in a perfect fit. She felt herself join with him in ways that were more than just physical. Ways that upended her tidy little world.

And she gave herself to him, totally and unconditionally.

He moved within her and all thought slipped away, replaced by something far more primitive and elemental. A driving need consumed her, an urge to become one. To complete the connection that hovered so close. She strained for it. Reached for it. Grasped it eagerly.

Then the strangest thing happened. Téa felt the powerful current from their first meeting complete its circuit. Felt the undeniable melding of man to woman. Knew on some level that this moment had changed her on some irrevocable, fundamental level. Part of her shrank from that knowledge, while another part rejoiced.

She wrapped Luc up in a tight embrace, arms and legs entwined. Each thrust came more forcefully, branding her, possessing her. She rode with him while
the wildness stirred. It whipped through her, tearing her apart into shiny fragments of desperate desire. She heard him call to her on the whirlwind, centering her. And with each moment that passed, each driving movement, they roared toward the center of the storm.

It was an exploding. A shattering. A freefall into the most delicious waves of pleasure she’d ever experienced. Together they soared and plummeted. Rode the wild wind. Together they clung one to the other, joined.

Melded.

Mated.

One.

Téa had no idea how long she lay there, lost in the aftermath of passion. Somewhere along the line every scrap of intelligent thought had fled, leaving behind utter confusion. But it was a delightful confusion, one that had her body glowing with pleasure and her practically purring in satisfaction.

The oddest part was that she couldn’t seem to get her brain back online. Every time she tried, her thoughts would slip and slide in Luc’s direction and all she could think about was how he’d taken her. Possessed her. Thrust her into a realm of sensation that had stripped her down to the bare essence of herself and then imprinted what remained with his personal brand. It was as though they’d mixed and mingled to the point where they could never truly separate out their own unique bits and pieces.

“Dear God,” Luc rumbled beside her. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.”

“At least you can talk,” she managed to say.

“Okay. I’ll talk. You move.”

“Can’t.”

“’Kay. Come here.” He wrapped a heavy arm around her waist and scooped her closer. “Aw, hell. It’s still there.”

She didn’t have to ask what. She could feel it. He spooned the hard sweep of his angles against her soft curves. The press of his body cleaving to hers caused the embers to spark to life in renewed need. Every inch of her skin burned with it. Heat blazed along the contact points and she trembled beneath the onslaught.

“Yeah, it’s still there.” She shuddered in reaction. “Was it supposed to go away?”

“Thought so.”

Or was it that he hoped so? The thought flitted in and out of her head as she turned to face him. He opened his eyes, slumberous, yet still hungry. With a soft growl, his mouth came down on hers again, blotting out thought and reason and words. Her arms slid around him just as his slid around her and their legs intertwined once again. They kissed, soft and gentle, then more urgently. An irrepressible need replaced exhaustion, one that couldn’t be denied.

Téa wriggled against him. “Luc, please. I want—”

She couldn’t even express what she wanted. Just him. More of him. He didn’t need the words. He knew. Knew, and responded with a passion that shredded her world into bright glittering starbursts of pleasure. It was as though all the silver and gold from her company somehow melded with the unique fire diamonds from his and encircled them like a ring, creating a bond neither of them were prepared for, nor wanted.

A bond from which they couldn’t easily escape.

T
éa awoke with a start and unlike last time, her brain came screaming online, flooding her with frantic messages and warnings. “Oh. My. God.”

Luc surfaced from beneath her, rumpled and gorgeous and sexier than any man had a right to be. “Is that a please-do-it-again-even-if-it-kills-us version of oh-my-God? Or have we switched over to what-have-I-done-get-me-the-hell-out-of-here?”

“Um.” She carefully untangled male parts from female and put a few precious inches of breathing space between them. It didn’t help. Heat and want still pulsated across the breach, threatening to suck her back in. “The get-me-the-hell-out-of-here one.”

“Thought so.”

With a groan, he levered himself off the bed and limped nude in what she assumed was the direction of
the bathroom. Her small gasp stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Oh, Luc. Your hip.” Hugging the sheet to her, she crouched in the center of the bed, her gaze riveted on his side. “And your knee! Dear heaven, what did you do?”

His mouth twisted. “I rescued a damsel in distress. Foolish of me, I know.”

It took her an instant to understand. “This is
my
fault?” Her misery increased as she took in the huge vibrant bruise that covered his entire hip and edged down his thigh toward his knee. “Why didn’t you say something? You must be in pain. Maybe you should see a doctor. Have it X-rayed.”

“It’s not broken or I wouldn’t be walking. I planned to take something for it.” A swift, ravening grin came and went. “But I got distracted.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were that badly hurt.”

“Trust me, this isn’t bad.”

She recalled the photos taken of him during his military service and suspected he spoke the unvarnished truth. “And your knee?” She started off the bed, but the change in his expression glued her in place. In an instant he transformed from lover to warrior. To someone she didn’t recognize. Someone tough and dangerous, who’d seen and done things she couldn’t even imagine.

“Old injury. It has nothing to do with you or what happened earlier.”

“But today must have made your knee worse,” she said softly.

“It didn’t help,” he conceded. “My choice, though. And I chose to keep you from becoming cab fodder.”

“Thank you.” She grimaced as she considered how
blasé she’d been about it at lunch. More than blasé. As she recalled, she’d blamed him for the incident. “Seriously, thank you. When I think of how I behaved at lunch—” She broke off with a shake of her head.

“You weren’t very grateful.”

Ouch. No doubt she deserved that. “I didn’t realize. I was distracted.” She straightened her shoulders. “Not that that’s any excuse. I can’t thank you enough for what you did and I’m sorry I made it necessary.”

It was only then that she caught the flash of amusement and realized he was deliberately provoking her as payback for her earlier behavior. And she’d fallen for it.

“No problem,” he said. “Next time I’ll let the cab have you.”

She simply laughed. “No, you won’t.” If she’d learned nothing else about him in these past few hours, it was that. The words “knight in shining armor” were probably engraved on his soul.

He shook his head with a sigh. “I think it’s more a matter of, no, I can’t.”

He didn’t linger, but disappeared through the doorway. The sound of running water confirmed her guess about it being the bathroom. It also gave her an opportunity to escape the bed and gather up her clothing. She winced as she examined the garments. Well, the good news was that most of them could be worn again. Unfortunately some of the more fragile bits and pieces of silk were beyond use or repair.

Tiptoeing and not quite sure why she bothered, she disappeared into the depths of his apartment, relieved to discover that there was a second full bath adjoining his spare bedroom. She took possession of the shower and the various toiletries lined up on the counter.
Definitely a woman’s touch and she couldn’t help but wonder who had left her mark and whether or not she was still in Luc’s life. After toweling off, Téa pulled on the salvageable pieces of her clothing and escaped the bathroom. She could hear Luc rummaging through the bureau drawers in his bedroom and paused.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and briefly debated. She could either sneak out of the apartment, like a thief in the night. Or she could face him and deal with the situation. Since there was a real chance they would be stuck together for the next six weeks, addressing what had just happened, and doing it now, seemed the wisest course of action. Plus, she’d never been one to run from a problem. She’d learned long ago to take responsibility for her mistakes. Learned it in the worst possible manner. This one today with Luc had been a huge one.

With a sigh, she made her way to the living room. A quick glance toward the windows warned that day paused in those breathless few moments between dusk and true night. Lights from various boats dotted the bay, sweeping straight across the water to Marin County. Off to the left, the Golden Gate Bridge glittered, the suspension cables looking like glowing strands of pearls connecting the city to the northern peninsula. Directly in front of her hovered Alcatraz Island, perched like some mythical land while wisps of fog gathered in a protective mantle about its shores.

Where had the time gone? She shook her head in exasperation. Idiot. She knew full well where it had gone. She’d lost the hours in Luc’s bed. No doubt if she went in there and rummaged between the sheets she’d find all those minutes just sitting there laughing at her.

Luc chose that moment to join her. The fullness of his personality exploded into the room, overwhelming it. “You hungry or should we move straight on to getting drunk and pretending none of this happened?”

She couldn’t quite tell if he was serious or not, and suspected a combination of both. She swung around to face him. “I really should go. But before I do I thought we should discuss things.”

“Discuss things,” he repeated. He gave her an aggrieved look, one men had patented back in caveman days. Clearly the last thing he wanted was a discussion. “That definitely calls for a drink. You sure you don’t want something?”

“No, thank you.”

He crossed to a wet bar and pulled out ice and a cut glass tumbler. Tossing in a handful of cubes that caused the crystal to sing, he splashed a healthy finger of whiskey over the cubes. He swirled the liquor in the glass for a moment and then downed it in a single swallow before facing her. She noticed that when he pivoted he was careful to plant and twist with his left leg so he wouldn’t cause any unnecessary trauma to the injury on his right.

He gestured with his glass, causing the ice cubes to chatter. “Okay. Start discussing. I assume this is the part where you say this can never happen again. That we have to work together for the next six weeks and it would be more professional if we kept things on a business footing. We’ll just pretend what happened, didn’t. Does that about sum things up?”

He hit too close to home. More than anything she wanted to claim he was wrong. That she was hoping for a torrid affair for the next six weeks and would be quite happy to spend every night in his bed, exploring
every possible position and variation of their activities over the past few hours.

“I think I’d like a drink, after all,” she announced.

“Smart choice.”

“Do you have any wine?”

“Red, white or somewhere in between?”

“Red.”

He poured her a glass of something dry and deliciously biting that carried the label from a Sonoma vineyard. She sipped it while considering her options and organizing her points. While he waited, he poured himself a second drink, but didn’t down this one. Instead he swirled the combination of liquor and cubes. It took every ounce of effort to yank her gaze from his hand and those long, clever fingers, fingers which had done shocking and delicious things to every part of her body.

She cleared her throat, suddenly aware she’d somehow sipped her way through most of the glass of wine. “Here’s the problem,” she announced. “The reason we’ve been forced to work together is because I’m so distracted trying to juggle the pressures of my job and family life. We can’t afford to have both of us distracted by this…” She lifted an eyebrow. “What did you call it? An inferno?”

“
The
Inferno,” he corrected. “With a capital ‘T,’ capital ‘I’ and a whole lot of fire and brimstone in between.”

She smiled at the name. Clever. “You said earlier that The Inferno, capital ‘T,’ capital ‘I,’ fire and brimstone, etcetera, is a family legend?”

“Yes,” he replied, making it clear by tone and attitude that he didn’t want to discuss it. “Or at least, that’s the claim. Never having experienced it before—”

“Until today,” she inserted smoothly.

It was like prodding a panther. Those incredible gold eyes narrowed in warning and if he could have snarled, he would have. As it was, he came close. “Hell, Téa. If it makes everything tidier to call a bad case of lust by a more acceptable name like The Inferno, go right ahead. It sure as hell makes it more acceptable to me.”

“Lust.” She chewed on the word for a moment and decided she didn’t care for the flavor. “I thought you said your cousins all married because of The Inferno.”

“They did.” He threw a lot of emphasis on the word “they.” Underscore. Italics. Highlight. Red flashing lights. The works.

She gestured with her glass. “I gather you don’t intend to.”

“I’m not very good husband material. Too much commitment for my taste.” The panther sheathed its claws and he flashed her a smile that practically had her clothing melting off her body. If they could have stripped themselves, they’d be puddled on the floor at her feet. “But, I do make a terrific lover.”

It was the unvarnished truth, spoken simply and without pretension or bravado. And one she readily conceded. Considering she’d been the most recent recipient, there was no point in denying facts. Unfortunately there was also no denying the fact that she would have loved to have him prove his words all over again. It took a moment, but she managed to pull herself together again, though she did spare a quick downward glance to make certain all her buttons were still safely in their holes.

Reassured, she couldn’t resist provoking him one final time. “Just out of curiosity, how do you plan to
avoid The Inferno when none of your other relatives have?”

She could see he’d never even considered the question before. She could also see he didn’t care for her asking it…or for the fact that he didn’t have a ready answer. To her amusement, it only took a moment for him to come up with one.

“I’m thirty years old and I’ve had extensive military training, as well as the skills I picked up running my own security business. We’ll either satisfy whatever urges we’re experiencing and move on, or…” He shrugged. “It’s a simple matter of intellect over inclination.”

She couldn’t decide whether to be amused or insulted. “I believe that brings us back to our main problem. I have to confess, I can’t decide which will be more distracting, indulging in an affair with you or trying
not
to indulge in an affair with you.”

“Just out of curiosity. Do I get a vote?”

“Just out of curiosity. Which way would you vote?”

He approached, graceful despite the limp. He took the wine glass from her hand and set it on a nearby table along with his whiskey. Then he caught hold of her and pulled her into his arms.

“I vote to end things right now,” he told her. And then he kissed her.

Want blew him apart. Heaven help him, she tasted every bit as delicious as before. Soft and sweet and yet potently female. He liked the way she attacked his mouth, like a succulent piece of fruit that she couldn’t quite get enough of. And then she would sink into him, savoring him the way he’d seen some women savor a piece of rich, dark chocolate.

Everything about her appealed, from the light, crisp scent of her to the subtle silken curves that had so
recently graced his bed, to the wit and intelligence that gave strength to her face and brilliance to the unusual teal shade of her eyes. He almost lost control again, almost swept her up into his arms and carried her back to his bedroom. Maybe he would have if the echo of his last words to her didn’t still linger in the air. With a final hungry kiss, he put her from him.

It took her an instant to recover her equilibrium. She stared at him in fuzzy bemusement before snapping back into focus with a soft cry of outrage. “You…!” Anger sparked to life, flaming in her gaze and giving her cheeks a rosy bloom. “Why did you kiss me after what you said?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance again.”

He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply. Didn’t dare. It didn’t pay to give women like Téa too much room to fully exercise their vocabulary. Not when they wielded each word with the precision of a marksman and could slice and dice a man with the skill of a master chef.

“I have some associates who can help with our problem. They can take over as your temporary bodyguard.”

He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d slapped her. “And us? What about The Inferno?”

“As I mentioned, I have four cousins who described the sort of instant lust that we experienced and every last one of them ended up married. That’s not going to happen to me. I don’t do commitment. And I sure as hell don’t do marriage.”

“Neither do I,” she retorted. “I have more important priorities.”

“Excellent. Then we end this before it has a chance to get out of hand. Agreed?”

She opened her mouth to reply, when a muffled voice began to call, “Answer me. Answer me. Answer me, me,
me!
” Her eyes widened in horror and without a word she darted to the foyer and dove into his closet. She emerged a bit more tousled, but with her briefcase and shoulder bag in hand.

She took up residence on his couch and pulled out her cell phones, lining them up with military precision on his coffee table. The ring tone on the first phone—a shiny black one covered in neon pink kisses—switched to “Here Comes the Bride.”

Téa flipped it open. “Hel— Yes, Jules. Yes, I know. I was in a meeting and couldn’t be interrupted.” She actually blushed at the lie, then listened for a moment. “Did you check out Divinity for your wedding gown? It won’t? Why—” She listened silently for several more seconds. “No, no. I understand. It’s just that I arranged for the owner… Okay. If it won’t work, it won’t. I’ll get back to you with an alternative. I’ve got to speak to Vida now. No, she’s not more urgent than you. But there’s nothing else I can do about your wedding gown until tomorrow. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”