Dante's Ultimate Gamble (6 page)

Next Luc indicated a heavily pregnant blonde snuggled in Sev’s arms. “That’s his wife, Francesca. She and Kiley, are due…” He made a production of checking his watch. “That soon?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Marco’s wife, Caitlyn, is talking to Lazz’s wife, Ariana. And my sister, Gia, is the one pouring the wine. Come on and I’ll introduce you to everyone.” He offered a swift grin. “Take a deep breath…”

“And dive right in?”

“The water’s nice and warm.”

Téa expected to feel like an outsider, but the Dantes soon proved her wrong. Perhaps it was because the family was so large and sprawling or because there were
so many diverse personalities, but they instantly made her feel like one of them.

Gia, the most outgoing and vibrant of the bunch, gave her a quick hug and pressed a glass of wine into her hand. And while the men discussed all things sports related, the women talked at length about the additions that were soon to grace the family.

“So far Nonna is batting a thousand.” Ariana dropped the comment into a lull in the conversation, speaking with the lightest of Italian accents.

“What do you mean?” Kiley asked.

“Well, she said you both would have boys and that’s what the ultrasound shows, yes?”

“True,” Francesca admitted, rubbing the taut mound of her belly. “But then, she also said you’d have the only girl out of all these Dantes sprawled around here.”

“Also true,” Ariana said.

It took a split second for comprehension to sweep through the family. The instant it did, a half dozen different voices exploded in everything from cheers of excitement to a rapid-fire peppering of questions.

“When are you due?”

“Is it really a girl?”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Lazz held up his hands with a laugh. “She’s due in a bit under six months. We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while without you lot driving us crazy. And yes, the ultrasound confirmed today that it’s a girl. A bit early for them to know, or so I’ve been told, but apparently the baby was positioned just right for the doctor to make the determination.”

Téa and Luc enjoyed the added celebratory mood of the family while they finished their drinks. Then he
urged her to her feet. “Let’s go inside and say hello to Primo and Nonna.”

They found Primo supervising the kitchen, a bottle of homemade beer at his elbow. The room was enormous, with huge bluish-gray flagstones decorating the rustic kitchen floor. Overhead, rough-hewn redwood beams stretched across the twelve-foot plaster ceiling. A long, broad table, one designed for the largest of families, took up one end of the room, while appliances suitable for a gourmet kitchen filled the other. Several more Dantes were busy carrying out Primo’s orders as they put the finishing touches on the various dishes they were preparing for dinner. To Téa’s surprise all of them were male.

“I’m beginning to like your family,” she told Luc in an undertone.

He grinned, quick on the uptake. “Because the men cook?”

“Darn right. Makes a nice change. Of course, there aren’t any men in my family, only women, so we get stuck with all the chores.”

“Cooking and gardening are my grandfather’s two favorite pastimes. Wait until you try his
pollo al Marsala con peperoni rossi
.” Luc closed his eyes in ecstasy. “There are chefs from all over the world who’d give their eyeteeth for the recipe.”

“Chicken Marsala with red peppers?” she hazarded a guess. “My Italian isn’t that great, much to Madam’s displeasure.” She slanted him a quick, teasing grin. “Except when it comes to food.”

“We’ll have to see what we can do to change that.”

The expression in his eyes made her feel as though she were free-falling at fifteen thousand feet without a parachute. Heat exploded deep in her belly and spread
outward in waves of lapping fire. All thought vanished, except for one indisputable fact. This was her man. She didn’t know how it had happened or why, but he belonged to her every bit as much as she belonged to him. Even as the crazy thought took hold, she struggled to dismiss it. It was wrong to put her personal desires first. But some thoughts couldn’t be so easily dismissed.

Primo paused in the middle of barking an order to greet them. “So,” he said, the flavor of his Tuscany homeland filling his words with a lyrical warmth. “This is the one, yes?”

Téa wasn’t certain who appeared more alarmed, her or Luc. She’d always considered herself in control of her emotions and able to keep them well hidden from curious eyes. She hoped she’d nailed the ability, considering she’d been practicing since the tender age of sixteen. But, with Primo… It was as though he looked into her heart and laid it bare. And she didn’t like it one bit. Deciding to take control of the situation, she stuck out her hand.

“How do you do, Mr. Dante. I’m Téa de Luca. Luc and I are working together. Temporarily.” Though who that final word was aimed at—Luc, his grandfather, or herself—she couldn’t quite say.

“Mr. Dante?” he repeated with an offended click of his tongue. He wrapped her up in a powerful hug filled with the distinctive scent of a fragrant cigar and a variety of the spices he’d used in the preparation of their dinner. “I am Primo, you understand?”

“Primo,” she said, accepting the enthusiastic kisses he planted on each of her cheeks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He drew back in mock offense. “We met when you
were a little girl. You do not remember me? With most people I make a big impression.”

She fought to control her amusement, not wanting to offend. “I’m sorry. I remember the cabin and the lake, but not too much else.”

Primo lifted a sooty eyebrow and fixed her with ancient gold eyes that were identical to Luc’s. “Well, no matter. I remember you. You were a pale, shy thing, overwhelmed by so many people. All bright red hair and white, skinny arms and legs.” He touched the tip of her nose. “Always had this stuck in a book, yes?”

“That was me,” she admitted with a laugh.

Primo turned and slapped the shoulder of one of the men behind him with a hand heavy enough to knock him to the floor. Maybe it would have if he hadn’t possessed a powerful Dante build. “This is Luc’s
babbo
, Alessandro.”

Luc’s father, Téa realized. At least, the Tuscany version of the word. “It’s a pleasure.”

“I’m stirring or I’d come over and say hello.” Alessandro tossed a friendly smile over his shoulder. “Hello, anyway.”

“You stir, I say hello,” Primo instructed. He pointed to the next one in line. “This is Rafe. He is one of the pretty Dantes. We only have two, thank the good Lord above for that small blessing. One is a girl, my precious Gianna, which is as it should be. We keep the other despite his being as pretty as the girl. If he did not have a brain, I would have drowned him as a child.”

“I believe you tried that, Primo,” Rafe offered, “and discovered I could swim like a fish.”

“I should have tried harder.” Primo whacked his next helper. “And this good-for-nothing is Draco. I am not certain what use he is.”

“I’m the charming one.”

“Marco is the charming one. You are
l’stigatore
. The troublemaker.”

Draco shrugged, not bothered by the accusation. “That, too.”

“That, alone,” Primo corrected before addressing Luc once again. “
Cucciolo mio
, go find Nonna and Elia and introduce Téa. Maybe she will remember your
mammina
better than she remembers me.” He leaned toward Téa, confiding, “I do not let them in the kitchen until it is time to eat.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Téa said with sincere appreciation.

Primo grinned. “I like you. You come back when all is ready and sit next to me.”

The offer touched her. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

The night seemed to fly by after that. As ordered, Téa took the seat of honor beside Primo and surprised herself by eating every morsel put in front of her. She also discovered that Luc was right. Primo’s
Marsala
was sheer ambrosia. Dinner took hours, the process a raucous occasion filled with genuine family affection and laughter.

The cake did indeed say, Happy Birthday, Rafe, and after it was consumed, the presents opened and the dishes washed, the women swept Téa off to enjoy coffee and talk babies some more. She threw a panicked glance over her shoulder in Luc’s direction, but he just chuckled at her dismay. The last view she had of him was his glorious grin before it dissolved into a sudden frown. It took her a moment to understand why. But then she saw it. He was staring down at his hands. Staring at the unconscious massage of left thumb against right
palm. Staring as though his hands didn’t quite belong to his own body.

Staring at the undeniable proof that The Inferno had claimed another victim.

“So, it has finally struck,” Primo said the instant the women had left.

Luc glanced up in confusion while his brother, Rafe, looked on with an amused expression on his too-handsome face. “Excuse me?”

“The Inferno.” His grandfather gestured toward his grandson’s hands. “Do not bother denying it, Luciano. The signs are all there.”

“What this?” He deliberately gave his palm a final scratch and forced a laugh. “Just an itch.”

Primo snorted. “What you feel is a fifty year itch, boy. Longer if you are very lucky.”

“Téa de Luca is an assignment, nothing more.”

Primo rolled his eyes heavenward. “Why are they always so stubborn? So reluctant to believe the truth even when it strikes as hard and dazzling as a lightning bolt?”

He crossed to one of the cabinets and pulled out a canister that read, Dried Manroot. Popping the lid, he extracted a cigar while Luc struggled to suppress a snort of laughter, thoroughly enjoying his grandfather’s sense of the absurd.

“Nonna will have a fit if she sees you with that,” Rafe warned, his jade-green eyes gleaming in shared amusement.

“Then we will make certain she does not see.” He took a moment to prep the cigar, then light it. “Luciano, you have witnessed The Inferno every day of your life. With my beloved Nonna. With your parents. One by one,
with each of your cousins.” He lifted a snowy eyebrow. “Did you believe yourself immune?”

Luc set his jaw at a stubborn angle. “Yes.”

Primo blew a ring of smoke skyward and shrugged. “You were wrong.”

“I’m not interested in settling down,” Luc protested. “I’m sure as hell not interested in marriage and children.”

“Because of what happened?” his grandfather asked shrewdly.

There was no point in denying the truth. “Yes.”

Luc shied from the memories, knowing if he didn’t build a strong enough bulwark they’d consume him. One key lesson had come from the incident, an undeniable fact he’d learned about himself. He never wanted to give so much of himself to another person that he couldn’t live without her. To trust to that extent. To risk so much. Rafe had warned him when his own marriage had ended in disaster. But the accident that had ruined Luc’s knee had brought the fact home in spades.

Primo stabbed his cigar in Luc’s direction. “The Inferno is not something you can simply turn off. It has happened and you will have to deal with it. You can do as your uncle did—God rest my Dominic’s soul.” He crossed himself, grief still haunting his black eyes. “Like Dominic, you can turn from it and destroy your life. Or you can follow your parents’ excellent example. You can embrace it and discover a happiness unlike anything you could imagine.”

“And when it ends?” Luc demanded.

Primo regarded him in bewilderment. “Who says it must end? What is this ending?”

“All things end,” he insisted in a hard voice. “Love is a gamble, the ultimate gamble. When it ends, you don’t
just lose. It can destroy you. I’ve seen it happen. That’s why I’ll never give into it, why I only bet when I know I can win.”

Understanding dawned in his grandfather’s face and an uncomfortable compassion settled into the deep lines bracketing his mouth. “You speak of the accident, yes? That unfortunate family?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Death is part of life, Luciano, just as love is. No one can control it. You witnessed that during your military service. Everything in life is a risk. But you can’t win unless you play. Take the love while you have the chance. Worrying about the other does you no good.”

Nonna’s voice drifted in from the backyard, warning of her approach. Without hesitation, Primo snatched his cigar from between his teeth and shoved it into Luc’s hand. By the time his wife entered the kitchen, he was across the room with a virtuous expression pinned to his face.

Nonna’s hazel eyes landed on Luc before arrowing toward Primo. “You know what the doctor said about smoking. No more cigars.”

“Do you see a cigar in my hand, old woman?”

“Do you think me a fool, old man?” After nearly sixty years of marriage, her imitation of her husband was uncanny.

Primo held his hands out. “
Che cosa?
I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You look as innocent as a wolf with a lamb between its teeth, Primo Dante. My Luciano does not smoke.” Nonna planted her hands on her hips. “You think I do not know the meaning of dried manroot? I know all about that canister in your spice cabinet.”

“Dried cucumber,” he protested. “Just a bit of seasoning.”

“Hah! A joke at my expense, is what it is. Only the joke is on you when I tell all our friends that Primo Dante keeps his dried manroot in a jar in our kitchen cabinet!”

“You would not dare…!” He thumped his chest. “I am your husband and I am telling you—”

She lifted an eyebrow.

Primo cleared his throat. “And I am telling you that as of tonight there will be no dried manroot in my spice cabinet.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “I thought that might be what you wanted to tell me.”

T
he evening didn’t end as well as it began.

Téa expected Luc to join her after he’d finished his conversation with Primo. But instead, Sev Dante, the head of Dantes, the family’s international jewelry empire, slipped into the seat next to hers. She offered him a smile, one he didn’t return.

Her smile faded. “Is something wrong?”

He frowned, adding to her concern, and kept his voice low, so their conversation didn’t carry to the other Dantes sprawled around them. “I know a birthday party isn’t the appropriate venue for this discussion, but Francesca insisted I speak to you,” he began on an ominous note. “She’s usually right about these things.”

“What things?” Téa asked warily.

“Business matters.”

She stiffened. This couldn’t be good, not when it involved so much frowning. “Business matters…
as in Billings’s contract with Dantes?” At his nod of confirmation, she said, “I thought Connie was handling that.”

He studied her with a golden gaze remarkably similar to Luc’s, if perhaps a shade tawnier. “Let’s just say that your cousin hasn’t been very responsive to the concerns I’ve raised. So, if he’s representing you in this matter, he’s not doing a very good job of it.” He hesitated, then asked, “You’ll be in charge of Bling soon, won’t you?”

“Five more weeks,” she acknowledged.

“Then you should know there’s a strong possibility that Dantes won’t re-up our contract.”

She fought to keep all emotion from her expression while she figured out how to deal with the unexpected—and alarming—information. All the while, a thread of panic wormed through her. If they lost the Dantes account, the company would be in serious jeopardy. Other accounts might follow suit and her inheritance would go from impressive to nonexistent.

And that meant she’d fail her family.

“Can you tell me why you’ve changed your mind about doing business with Billings?” she asked with impressive calm.

“It’s a quality issue. Yours has gone down while your prices have skyrocketed. Conway says it’s at your insistence. We’ve had another company approach us offering far better prices and top-notch quality.”

Téa straightened in her chair. She carefully returned her cup and saucer to the wrought iron table and swiveled to confront Sev directly. “No one offers better quality than Billings.”

“Once upon a time that would be true,” he acknowledged. “But not any longer.”

She searched desperately for a solution. “What if I can guarantee both? Would you re-evaluate your decision?”

“Your guarantee doesn’t hold a lot of weight considering the quality of the merchandise we’ve been receiving.” He hesitated, then nodded. “But since our two companies have always enjoyed such a stellar relationship, I’ll give you a couple of weeks to get to the bottom of the problem.”

“Thank you. I’ll look into the matter and call you Monday, at the latest.”

Sev inclined his head. “One last thing…”

He shot a look over her shoulder. Téa didn’t need to follow his glance to know that Luc was approaching. She could feel him. Feel him as though he were a rising tide and she the waiting shoreline.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“Your…association…with Luc won’t influence my decision,” Sev warned quietly. And with that, he stood and returned to his wife.

Luc shot a glance in Téa’s direction and grimaced. Ever since they’d left his grandparents’ house she hadn’t said more than a half dozen words, but had wrapped herself in silent gloom. Streetlights flickered over her, giving a harsh highlight to the tension scoring her face.

“Okay, what happened?” he demanded.

She was so lost in thought he couldn’t be certain she’d heard him until her voice slipped out, soft as the night. “Nothing happened. It was a lovely evening.” Then as an afterthought, she added politely, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome. Now what the
hell
is wrong? And don’t tell me nothing. Something happened.”

She swiveled slightly to face him. “Maybe I will tell you what happened. I realized where I’ve been going wrong all this time. I realized that my distraction is causing me endless problems and that it has to stop.”

That was good, right? “That’s good, right?” So why had his alarm bells kicked in?

“It’s excellent.” She managed a wobbly smile that didn’t convince either of them. “In fact, it’s so excellent I’m not going to need your services any longer.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Good try, but… Not a chance in hell.”

“Madam hired you because I was distracted,” she reminded him. “I’m not distracted, anymore. I’ve never seen the situation so clearly.”

He wished he could accuse her of having consumed too much of the wine that had flowed like water that evening. But he’d be surprised if she’d sampled more than the single glass she’d been handed when they first arrived. He didn’t know who had said what this evening, but he wasn’t about to let her off the hook just because a single night with his relatives had—hallelujah—given her 20/20 vision.

He used the only lever he possessed. “I’m your birthday present, remember?” Was it his fault if the words came out gravel-rough? “You can’t unwrap or return me until you turn twenty-five.”

She didn’t so much as crack a smile. “You can insist on babysitting me for the next five weeks. It’s not like I’m strong enough to turf you out, not with Madam and Nonna in your corner. But I don’t need your assistance any longer. I’m more focused than I’ve ever been in my life.”

He shot her a curious look before returning his
attention to the road. “Uh-huh. And what brought that on?”

“Tonight helped me figure out my priorities.”

That was good, right? “That’s good, right?” he repeated.

“That’s excellent,” she confirmed again. “From now on, I follow the Dantes’ stellar example. I put family first. I have to if I’m going to protect them.”

“Uh… Great?” Damn it.

“Yes, great.” Her face settled into a grim, determined expression that set his alarm bells ringing to the max. “Because it means I put all my time and focus into taking over Billings.” That was
not
good. Not even a little. “
All
your time and attention?”

“Twenty-four/seven,” she confirmed.

“That’s what you learned from someone at Primo’s tonight?”

“That’s what I learned.”

“Got it.”

He didn’t know which Dante was gonna die, but one of them was going down for whatever bug they’d stuck in Téa’s ear. He’d been where she was, devoting his life to a cause. And it had just about killed him. Literally. It was bad enough when she was striving for some sort of balance between work and family and the teeny-tiny sliver of a piece he’d managed to coax out of her for play. Now it would only get worse. And someone would pay. Someone
always
paid the price for that sort of dedication.

He just didn’t want it to be Téa.

First thing Monday, frustrated as a tiger with its tail in a knot, Luc watched Téa take the first step in her campaign. She marched into Conway Billings’s
office—a huge, palatial room with a prime view of the city—and slammed the door in Luc’s face. The conversation between cousins went on at some length before she returned. She didn’t even glance at him, though one look at her burning eyes and taut jaw warned that her conversation with “Cuz” didn’t go well. She made a beeline for her own office and the spreadsheets she’d left there on Friday. She spent three straight hours poring over them, her expression more severe than he’d ever seen it.

At one point, she sent him from the room while she made a series of phone calls. Something was definitely up. He waited outside her office, glancing in the general direction of Conway’s and flipped open his cell. He scrolled through the names until he hit on the one he wanted and placed the call.

“Juice? It’s Luc. I need you to run a full background check on someone for me.”

“What happened to hello?” his former associate complained in a rumbling bass voice. “You used to at least soften me up with a, ‘how’s it going?’ before you started in. I feel so used when you insist we just get straight to it.”

Luc felt his mouth relax into a grin. “Then you shouldn’t let strangers pick you up in bars.”

Juice sighed. “True enough. What can I get you?”

Luc gave him the details. “Rush it, will you?”

“That’s not what they usually say.”

“Yeah, but at least I’ll still respect you in the morning. And I promise I’ll call you soon. Honey.”

Juice snorted. “Stuff it,” he said before the line went dead.

Luc turned to find Téa standing there, arms folded across her chest, her vivid teal-blue eyes glaring through
the sparkling lenses of her reading glasses. “If you’re quite finished?”

“All done,” he confirmed cheerfully.

“I’m going on a business trip which means you get the next couple of days off.”

He waited a beat. “No, I believe it means I’m going on a business trip, too,” he corrected.

She sliced a hand through the air. “Unnecessary and out of the question. It’s a matter of confidentiality.”

“I’m all about confidentiality.”

“Not this time. I need to do this on my own. Connie insists and I’m forced to agree.”

“Oh, well. If Connie insists…” He backed her into the office, slammed the door closed and shoved his nose against hers. Awareness shimmered through him, an awareness he did his level best to ignore. “Then I’m absolutely going.”

Her eyes narrowed and he could practically see the gears spinning. Then she drew back and offered a wide, insincere smile. “Fine,” she said with a careless shrug. “You can come, too.”

He didn’t need any alarm bells to know she’d given in way too easily. Plus, there was the small matter of her utter and total inability to lie. “When and where?”

“Wednesday morning, first thing.”

“Got it.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll pick you up at the usual time tomorrow?”

Her smile returned, sunny with insincerity. “Of course.”

Of course.

Luc was right.

He’d suspected Téa planned to sneak out bright and early Tuesday morning and she didn’t disappoint him.
He stood wrapped in early morning dew and shadows, and rested his hip against the brick wall that guarded the de Luca family row house. Somehow, the Italianate Victorian suited them, with its trademark gingerbread accents, top-heavy cornices and long, hooded windows. The garage door opened and Téa backed her car carefully out before the electronic mechanism engaged and slid the door closed again. He shifted until he stood directly in her path.

The instant she caught sight of him in her rearview mirror, her brakes squealed and the car bounced to a stop. After turning off the ignition, Téa erupted from the car. She made a beeline toward him, the decisive click of her heels bouncing off the concrete driveway. Somebody didn’t look happy to see him. He was crushed.

“I. Should. Have. Known.” She bit off each word as if they were chewed nails.

“Yeah, you should have.” He held out his hand. “Keys.”

“You’re not coming.”

He didn’t bother arguing. He let his expression say it all.

She stewed for an entire sixty seconds before relenting. “If you must come, then I insist on driving.”

He simply stood there, as immobile as a rock, hand outstretched.

“I’m sure there’s a rule somewhere that says that bodyguards ride shotgun.” When he still didn’t budge, she slapped the keys in his hand. “Fine. I’ll navigate.”

“Excellent decision.”

“It’s not like I had a choice,” she grumbled.

“Sure you did.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I could have canceled the trip?”

His mouth kicked up at the corners. “You got it.”

He keyed the fob and popped the trunk. Picking up his duffel bag from where he’d stashed it on the sidewalk, he stowed it alongside Téa’s case. By the time he finished Téa was already in the car, her nose buried in a map book.

Luc eased his tall frame behind the wheel and adjusted the seat to accommodate his long legs and cause his knee the least amount of strain. Twitched the mirrors. Did a quick check of the various controls. The engine turned over with a soft purr that spoke of a well-maintained vehicle. Knowing Téa he was willing to bet she rolled in for servicing at the exact same instant that the odometer rolled past each three thousand miles.

He didn’t really need directions for getting out of the city, but if telling him where to go helped Téa come to terms with his crashing her business trip, he’d put up with it.

“How did you know?” she finally asked once they cleared the city.

“I know you.” He shot her a speaking look. “Plus, you have to be the world’s worst liar. Probably comes from lack of practice.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It can be. I’m willing to bet every one of your sisters excels at the art.”

She mulled that over before conceding the truth of it. “There are a lot of arts my sisters excel at that I don’t.”

No doubt it was part of the reason she’d never quite fit in. “Thank God for that.” He gave her a moment to digest his comment, then asked, “Care to tell me where we’re going and why?”

“Connie asked me to visit some of our smaller
accounts along the coast between San Francisco and L.A., so we can all get to know each other before I take over.”

“Uh… I hate to tell you this, but Sacramento isn’t between San Francisco and L.A. And that’s the direction you have us headed.”

“That’s because I’m not going to visit those accounts.”

“I’m shocked.” And he was. “You’re flouting Conway’s authority?”

“Why, yes. I believe I am. I’ve always wanted to learn how to flout.” Her chin took on a stubborn slant. “And today’s the day.”

He couldn’t help himself. He chuckled. “Where are we going, instead?”

“To talk to the former manager of our manufacturing plant.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her shoulder bag and checked the directions against the map book. “He retired to some small town called Polk about the time I started at Bling. It’s located in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”

“Never heard of the place. Why do you want to talk to him?”