Dante's Blackmailed Bride (7 page)

She looked at him, searching his face for some sign of the man she’d taken to her bed. If he still existed—if he ever existed—he was lost to her now. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “You don’t need TH. Dantes will still be a success without it.”

“Their business is failing.” She hated the compassion gleaming in his burnished gold eyes. Hated him all the more for being right. “Bloom might revitalize it for a short time, but Tina is too capricious to keep the business going for longer than a few years. She hired three designers, two of whom are worse than mediocre. The fact that she also hired you is more dumb luck than true discernment. The only reason the company hasn’t gone under before this is thanks to Kurt’s business acumen.”

“So now you’re the hero? You’re going to rescue Timeless Heirlooms?”

He gathered himself, exuding an uncompromising determination that had long been a hallmark of the Dante legend. “Timeless Heirlooms belonged to us. Because of my father’s own capriciousness, I had no choice but to sell it off. Now I’m in a position to right that wrong. Do you expect me to walk away without recovering what I lost?” Regret colored his words. “That isn’t going to happen and you know it.”

“Because you feel responsible for Dantes’ fall from grace.”

“Because I
am
responsible. You know why I feel that way.”

She remembered the night he’d explained it to her, and how sympathetic she’d felt. Not anymore. Not when he demonstrated such ruthless disregard in order to achieve his goal. “So, you’ll do anything to return the company to its former glory. No matter who gets hurt. No matter who gets in your way or who you have to steamroll over.” She wasn’t asking, but acknowledging fact.

“No one has to get hurt. The Fontaines will be in a far better position if they sell out to us now than if I’m forced to collect the broken pieces after their fall.”

“Very generous of you, I’m sure.”

For the first time, a spark of anger flared to life in his eyes. “It’s time to negotiate, Francesca. Will you come to work at Dantes of your own volition?”

“What happens if I refuse? Will you tell Tina that I’m Kurt’s daughter?”

For the first time he didn’t give her a straight answer. “I don’t want to do it that way.”

“But you will if you think there’s no other option. You will because you know that the news will devastate Tina, since she and Kurt were married at the time of my conception. Knowing how volatile she is, she’ll throw him out. And even if they eventually reconcile—which they will since they truly love each other—the damage will have been done. Their neglect will hand you TH.”

“That’s Nic’s assessment of the situation, yes.”

“It’s a rotten thing to do, Sev.”

Pain sliced across his face. “I’ve been forced to make far more difficult decisions, decisions that have had disastrous impact on people’s lives.” His voice dropped, landed in some dark, desolate place that echoed through his words. “I’ve had no choice. There was no one else to make those decisions. And I don’t doubt there’ll be other occasions when I’m forced to make still more.”

She could see the truth in his eyes, see that he’d made an uncomfortable home for himself between that proverbial rock and a hard place. She could also sympathize with him, up to a point. Because from now on she’d have to make difficult decisions as well, to stand on her own without Sev at her back. Well, she’d been there before. She’d lived most of her life with no one beside her when times grew tough. She could do it again. She needed to be strong, to refortify the barriers she’d created years ago to hide her vulnerability and weakness. And she would. There wasn’t any other choice.

“If I agree to work with you, I have one request.” She didn’t allow herself to consider that her statement as good as conceded defeat.

“Name it.”

“The Fontaines are to receive full price for TH. I want it in my contract. I won’t lift a finger to help Dantes otherwise.”

He gave it a moment’s reflection. “In that case I want an exclusive two-year contract with you with an additional two-year non-compete clause. If you walk away without meeting the terms of your contract, I won’t allow you to work for anyone else in the industry in any capacity, whatsoever, for two full years.”

Suddenly she found herself right there with him, a hard place boring into her back, a boulder slamming her from the front. “That seems a bit harsh.”

“I have an investment to protect. I have no intention of buying out TH only to have you walk away from Dantes and help the Fontaines start up a competing business.”

It hadn’t occurred to her to do any such thing. But now that he mentioned it, it would serve him right if she’d planned to do precisely that. “Very well. I agree.”

He held out his hand. “Welcome to Dantes.”

Francesca realized her mistake the instant she put her hand in his. The Inferno reared its ugly head, darting from his hand to hers and setting her blood on fire. It didn’t seep into her bones, but burned inward, branding her more deeply and completely than she thought possible.

She saw a similar kick of reaction fill Sev’s expression with a predatory hunger. “Oh, and there’s one more detail I forgot to mention.”

She didn’t have to ask. She knew precisely what detail he’d omitted. “Forget it.”

“I can’t forget, any more than you can.” Sev’s eyes turned to molten gold. “I still want you in my bed.”

S
ev deliberately kept his distance from Francesca over the next few days while she gave notice at TH and settled into her new home at Dantes, not wanting to throw any more fuel on a situation already on the verge of a messy explosion. He’d done enough by insisting she return to his bed, as well as come to work at Dantes.

Though she’d accepted the latter with dignified anger, when it came to his former demand, she’d told him in no uncertain terms which dark corner of his body to put his suggestion and precisely how to achieve such an impossibility. Though he regretted the means he’d used to force her compliance on the work front, at some point she’d face facts.

Timeless Heirlooms teetered on the edge of destruction, and not even Francesca’s brilliant designs would save it. Not in the long run. He’d rather acquire TH while he and his brothers could still turn it around, rather than attempt to pick up pieces shattered beyond repair. Quite simply, the Dantes were in a position to fix problems. The Fontaines weren’t. Unfortunately, he doubted he’d ever be able to convince Francesca of that simple fact.

He’d respected her preferences and kept his distance, missing her from both his life and his bed. But now Sev couldn’t stand it another minute. Whatever existed between them—whether The Inferno or simple desire—the craving to have her close at hand threatened everything he’d worked the past decade to accomplish.

A nagging compulsion consumed him, as though an emergency signal lit up the connection between them. He couldn’t recall ever being this distracted. After the sixth time he stood with the subconscious urge to track her down, he finally gave in and acted on the impulse.

He found her in the studio he’d arranged for her use, a huge, bright room with every possible amenity at her disposal, right down to a plush sitting area and tiny kitchenette. Giving her door a brief knock, he entered. And then he allowed his senses to consume her, the thumb of his left hand moving automatically to ply the palm of his right.

She sat at her desk, a drawing pad flipped open and a charcoal pencil in hand. He couldn’t say whether the sketch she applied herself to with such assiduous attention had anything to do with her job. But whatever she worked on, he suspected she’d lost all awareness of time and place.

Sunlight streamed in from nearby windows and swirled within her hair, spinning the honey-blond strands to pure gold. It also illuminated the creamy tone of her complexion, making her appear lit from within. Even from this distance, he picked up traces of her unique perfume, the scent light and crisp and uniquely hers.

The pressure that had been building over the past few days eased with his first glimpse of her, forcing him to concede just how tense he’d become without constant contact with her. Every instinct begged him to go to her and carry her off. To take her as far from Dantes and the Fontaines as possible.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Dante?” she asked without looking up.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Mr. Dante?” He leaned against the door, forcing it shut.

“Don’t.”

Just that one word, but it contained a full measure of pain and disillusionment. She looked at him then, sparing him nothing. He knew he’d hurt her, but refused to consider how badly. Until now. More than anything he wished he could go to her and find a way to ease her despair. But not only wouldn’t she welcome it, he suspected she’d tear a strip off his hide if he came anywhere near her.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like being here?” she continued. “The untenable position you’ve put me in?”

He cocked his head to one side. Okay…More was going on than his forcing her to work for him. Something had exacerbated the situation. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

She threw down her pencil and glared at him. “Why did you give me this office?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Because it’s the best one available.”

“Great. Just great. Would you care to know the first question my coworkers asked me?” She didn’t wait for his response. “Not my name. Not general questions about my background. Not where I attended school or who I studied with or where I last worked. They wanted to know who I’d slept with to get this studio.”

Sev winced. “Hell.”

“Oh, it gets better.”

She swept a hand toward the pretty little sitting area tucked beneath the windows. “Guess what’s now called the ‘casting couch’? Of course, my coworkers treat it like a big joke, but I can see the speculation. They’re wondering who I am and why I rate such consideration. As far as they’re concerned, I’m brand-new to the industry. An apprentice in their eyes. But somehow I’ve leapfrogged over them and they don’t like it one little bit. In a single thoughtless move, you’ve made it impossible for me to associate effectively with the other Dante employees.”

Damn. “I didn’t realize.”

“Fine. You didn’t realize. But now that you do, you have to fix it.”

He could guess where this was going. “What do you suggest?”

“Transfer me to one of the other Dante locations. New York. London. Paris. The way things are right now, I’d even take Timbuktu. Just send me someplace else where they don’t know me. Where…” She snatched a shaky breath. “Where I don’t have to anticipate seeing you around every corner.”

Not see her for months on end? He couldn’t do it. The mere suggestion threatened what little sanity he had remaining. “Forget it. Not for at least two years.”

“Two years?” He hated the cynical light that darkened her eyes to a black both deep and diamond-hard. “Unless The Inferno burns down to ashes before then, right?”

Sev ignored the question. It hit uncomfortably close to home and he hated the thought that his actions could have so base a motivation. “Other than transfer you, what else can I do? Name it and if it’s in my power I’ll give it to you.”

She laughed, the sound so filled with sorrow that he flinched. “You can give me my old life back. You can let me work for the Fontaines again. Live my life the way
I
choose. I want to work with—” Her voice broke. “With my father. Even if he didn’t know about our relationship, at least I could see him every day. At least he didn’t hate me.”

Sev froze. “Hate you?”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you really so blind? Didn’t it occur to you what would happen when I refused to sign with Kurt and Tina? What would happen when I turned my back on them after all they’ve done for me? How they’d react when I jumped to Dantes instead of honoring my promise to sign the contract they were on the verge of offering? I betrayed them, Sev. I betrayed them in the cruelest manner possible and they despise me for what I’ve done to them.”

Dammit to hell. He should have anticipated this. His distraction had cost them both. “I’ll talk to them.”

“And tell them what?” She thrust back her chair and stood, the movement lacking her usual grace. “Don’t you get it? I’ll be the proximate cause for the Fontaines losing Timeless Heirlooms. I’m the one they’ll blame when you take over. Talking to them isn’t going to do a bit of good.”

He hadn’t considered that aspect of the situation for a very simple, yet vital reason. He’d been so focused on his family’s business and restoring all he’d been forced to dismantle, that he hadn’t fully explored how his decision would impact Francesca. And he could guess why. He didn’t dare look too closely or he’d never be able to make the tough calls. Examining the problem from Francesca’s side of the fence would also force him to take a long, hard look at his past choices, something he refused to contemplate.

He’d ruined so many lives when he’d sold off the bits and pieces of Dantes. Until then they’d been a premier business, marketing the most exclusive and magnificent jewelry, worldwide. When his father died, he’d been forced into the top position fresh out of college, with little preparation. And even though Primo had come out of retirement during those first difficult days, his grandfather’s heart attack, just three short months after the death of his eldest son and daughter-in-law, had put a swift end to his involvement.

From that point on, Sev shouldered the full burden. He, and he alone, had made the tough choices, choices vital to Dantes’ survival. He’d been merciless all those years ago. There’d been no other option. One by one, he’d shut down Dantes’ subsidiaries, cutting a swath of destruction throughout the company with ruthless disregard for the lives his decisions destroyed. It had been the only way to save the core business. And now here was one more tough choice to add to the lengthy list he’d accepted as part of his “chain of shame.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing the sentiment to be both inadequate and unwanted.

She turned her back on him. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I need to return to work.”

An idea came to him, an idea so outrageous it might have been one of Nic’s crazier schemes. He didn’t give himself time to consider all the ramifications. To pull this off, he needed to act, and act fast. “Actually, there is something else. It’s the reason I came here, as a matter of fact. There’s a charity auction this Saturday night. Dantes has donated a few wedding rings to help raise money for the Susan G. Koman Breast Cancer Foundation. I need an escort.”

Instantly she shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“It isn’t a request.”

She spun to confront him. “You must be joking.” One look at his expression and her mouth tightened. “Dating you is now part of my job description?”

“I don’t recall referring to Saturday night as a date. It’s a business function. And yes, on occasion you’ll be expected to attend them, just as the Fontaines expected you to when you worked for TH.”

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 things we could do with 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 that she’d designed before joining Timeless Heirlooms. In fact, it had been one of the pieces that had 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.

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.