Dante's Honor-Bound Husband (13 page)

He could tell she thought he was kidding. In just a little over two hours she'd find out he was serious. He smiled in anticipation.

Very, very serious.

T
hey arrived at the Dantes' summer property right at noon. Constantine parked in a gravel section between a large workshop and equally generous-size storage shed. He took a moment to stretch, then looked around in appreciation.

“Impressive,” he said to Gianna. “And quite beautiful. Peaceful.”

She smiled, clearly pleased with his reaction. “We like it.”

The main residence, a rambling rough-hewn log building, complete with a pair of stone chimneys, perched on the lake's edge. Two more modern wings bookended the main section and cantilevered over the water. On the lakefront, a pier and boathouse occupied one end of the curved shoreline and the Dantes had trucked in soft white sand to form a sweeping beach. Tucked into the nearby woods he spotted individual cabins.

Gianna noticed the direction of his gaze and gestured
toward the closest one. “For the married couples who prefer a bit more privacy than being under one roof with everyone else.”

“And if the couple in question isn't married?”

She shot him an impish grin and jerked her head toward the main house. “Opposite wings.”

“And of those two options, where would you prefer to spend the night?”

Her eyes narrowed in consideration and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. For some reason she was having trouble making a decision. “The first cabin,” she finally decided. “That way we don't have to open up the main house. Plus the closest cabin has two bedrooms.”

“Are we going to use both?”

She fussed with her sunglasses for a moment. “What happens if we only use one?” she asked. She tried to make the question sound casual and failed miserably.

“You and I announce our engagement the moment we return,” he answered, not the least casual about his response.

“Okay,” she said. Reaching inside the car, she snagged the groceries they'd picked up and started across the driveway toward the cabin.

Okay? What did she mean by that? “Okay, we can announce our engagement?” he called after her. “Or, okay we'll use separate bedrooms?”

“Yes,” she tossed over her shoulder.

He snatched up their bags with a broad grin and followed after her, appreciating the view. Her endless legs ate up the distance with ease, the feminine sway of her pert backside drawing his gaze. Her hair tumbled down her back in loose curls, the sunlight losing itself in the glorious streaks of brown and gold. What would she say if she knew he'd pur
chased a Dantes' Eternity engagement ring…just in case? Panic, or set the fastest wedding date on record?

Maybe he'd find out.

After grabbing a quick lunch, Gianna took Constantine on a tour of the complex, followed by a hike partway around the huge lake. He knew she was avoiding the true purpose for their visit. But he didn't push, instead allowing her to set the pace. She'd tell him when she was ready to act.

They returned to the cabin late that afternoon to enjoy a cup of coffee on the deck and Constantine leaned back in his chair, stacking his feet on the top railing. The cabin rested within the protective embrace of a stand of cedar trees, about fifty feet from the water. A solid two hundred yards from shore a raft teetered back and forth against the slap and drag of gentle wind-driven waves. From his current position he could look out across the shimmering blue lake to the dense forest beyond, with the Sierra Nevada mountains rising majestically in the background. It was an amazing sight, one he'd be all too happy to view on a regular basis. No wonder the Dantes loved this place. And how fortunate to have been able to acquire all the surrounding property. He couldn't help but wonder how many years that had taken.

“It's getting late,” Gianna commented.

Constantine kept his voice calm and nonchalant. “The sun doesn't set for hours yet.”

“Still…” She took a final swallow of coffee and set her mug onto the glass-topped table beside her with a decisive click. “Let's get this over with.”

Without another word, she stood and disappeared inside the cabin. He followed in time to see her vanish into the bedroom she'd staked out, and continued on to his own. Stripping off his clothes, he changed into trunks and returned to the deck.

Gianna joined him a few minutes later, wearing a pale
lime-green one-piece, the color somehow intensifying the unusual shade of her eyes. The squared bodice was modest, just hinting at her generous cleavage. And she'd tied a misty drape at her waist that fell to her calves in a swirl of blues and greens. All he could think about was how quickly he could strip away that drape, followed by her swimsuit.

She shot him a questioning glance over her shoulder. “What?”

He gave her a slow, hungry smile. “Skinny. Dipping.”

She darted across the deck with a laugh, her curls bouncing against her back. “You have to catch me first.”

A short stack of steps ended at a narrow pathway leading to the stretch of beach closest to the dock and boathouse. She hurdled over the stairs in a practiced maneuver and hit the path at a dead run. The predator in him roared to life and he gave chase. He would have caught her, too, if she hadn't frozen at the water's edge. Her stillness had him pulling up beside her, careful not to do anything that might spook her.

“You don't have to go in,” he reassured.

“I know, but I've delayed long enough,” she said grimly. She untied the drape and tossed it onto the sand in a resolute manner. “Let's give it a try and see what happens.”

It didn't take long. Constantine stuck right by Gianna's side. She waded in until the water lapped around her waist. One minute she seemed perfectly normal and the next minute her breath hitched and she spun awkwardly around. Before he could sweep her from the water to safety, she tripped, plummeting beneath the surface.

He was on her within seconds, snatching her up and lifting her high in his arms. But the damage had been done. She lost it. Curling into him, she choked on the water she'd swallowed, weeping in terror. He carried her straight to the cabin and into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, the
spray hard and hot. With her still in his arms, he walked into the huge mosaic tiled stall.

“I'm okay, I'm okay,” she wept.

“I know you are. We'll just stand here, anyway, until you're more okay.”

He lowered her onto her feet and pushed the wet hair from her eyes and simply held her tight against his chest until her shuddering sobs faded and her heartbeat calmed to a slower rate. The heat helped loosen her tight muscles and ease her trembling. Finally she tilted her head back and looked at him.

“Damn,” she whispered.

His mouth twitched. “Didn't go the way you planned?” he asked tenderly.

She slicked the moisture from her face. “You could say that.”

“Did you really expect your phobia would disappear the minute you stepped in the water?”

“Yes,” she grumbled. “I did. It's an irrational knee-jerk reaction. I'm not the one who drowned.”

“Clearly.”

“I've never even had a close call,” she continued. “There's no logical reason for me to fear the water.”

He hated to suggest it, but given the circumstances… “Have you considered therapy?”

“No. It wasn't until David that I was even willing to accept that I had a problem.” She reached around him to turn off the water and squeezed the water from her hair. “I want you to know this is unacceptable.”

“The shower?”

“No.” A brief smile flirted with her mouth. “That was sort of nice.”

“I can turn the water back on and we can have some more nice,” he offered generously.

Her smile grew. “Thanks, but no.” She exited the stall and grabbed a towel for herself and tossed him the spare. She dried herself in short, angry movements. “I'm telling you, Constantine, before we leave here I
will
get over this fear. When David had me trapped in his car, I refused to allow him to scare me so badly I couldn't act. I'm not going to let some ridiculous phobia keep me from enjoying the lake now.”

Constantine dried himself at a more leisurely pace. “I don't doubt it. Not if you've made up your mind to do it.”

She nodded decisively. “Darned right. I used to love to swim. I used to spend all day out on the raft and do flips and dives off of it.” She tossed her towel onto the floor. “I was good, damn it.”

“Ready to go again or do you want to wait until morning?”

Gianna vacillated for a split second. He saw the instant she came to a decision, her mouth assuming a stubborn slant. “No. Now. Right this second while I'm still mad. Before I remember to be scared again.”

She practically ran from the bathroom. He went after her, determined to keep pace with her every step of the way. This time he'd be ready. This time she wouldn't go under.

The instant they hit sand, he took her hand in his. Farther out in the lake the wooden raft rocked, creaking and jangling against its metal chain and anchor. Together they walked to the water's edge where he tugged her to a standstill. “Not so deep this time,” he instructed. “And not so fast.”

She nodded in agreement. Taking a deep breath, she waded in until the water hit her knees. Then she slowly stooped, allowing the water to wash upward over her body. He followed her down. Her fingers tightened in his and her breathing kicked up a notch.

Screwing her eyes closed, she muttered, “Just like a
bath.” She settled onto the lake bottom, the water lapping around her chest. “That's all I'm doing. Soaking in a nice deep bathtub.”

Constantine plastered himself behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He drew her back between his legs and pressed her rigid spine tight against his chest. “I'm thinking either Hawaii or Alaska.”

Gianna jerked in surprise at the non sequitur. “What?”

“For our honeymoon. Follow my reasoning here… Alaska requires a lot of clothes because even in the summer it can be chilly. But you have that unbelievable scenery and a lot of nakedness in front of a roaring fire.”

“Have you lost your mind?” She splashed water in his direction. “We're not even engaged.”

“The benefits of Hawaii are the lack of clothes…so, more nakedness.”

“I'm beginning to sense a theme here,” she said drily.

“Well, it is our honeymoon. Nakedness will be involved.”

She held up her left hand and shook it in his face. “Please note. Bare finger. Bare finger equals no engagement. No engagement equals no honeymoon.”

Hmm. True. But had she noticed she wasn't panicking? Might be too soon to point out that minor detail. He allowed his hand to drift upward from her waist to settle just beneath her breasts. Maybe it was the buoyancy of the water that caused his thumb to drift upward, as well. Or maybe he'd lost control over it and it went crazy all on its own. Somehow it swept across her breast. Repeatedly.

“We could always start with the honeymoon,” he suggested. “Get that out of the way first. Work on the engagement and wedding afterward.”

She shivered. “Honor and all that, remember?”

She sounded a bit desperate, as though she were remind
ing herself as well as him. The possibility made him grin. “Parts of me remember. Other parts…” he shook his head “I am forced to admit, not so much.”

“Maybe you should send a memo to those other parts.”

Taking a chance, he scooped her up and spun her around to face him. Her legs closed automatically around his waist. At the same time, her arms wrapped tight around his neck. She gazed into his eyes, a funny little smile catching at the corners of her mouth.

“You don't think I know what you're doing, but I do,” she informed him.

“And what am I doing?”

“Distracting me.” She tilted her head to one side. “What do you say I distract you instead?”

He didn't have an opportunity to respond. She took his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Her lips parted, beckoning him inward. He didn't need a second invitation. He sank into honeyed warmth, their tongues dueling briefly, mating slowly, pleasuring thoroughly.

Using extreme care, he eased them into deeper water, keeping her tight within his control. Then he slid one hand downward over her abdomen to the top of her leg where silky bathing suit met satiny skin. He drew a finger along the elastic edge, then slipped under.

Gianna buried her face against Constantine's shoulder and released a sound that threatened his sanity. A helpless feminine plea. A soft siren's call that spoke of blatant need. He had no choice but to respond, to try to give her what she desired. He found the hot core of her and stroked. She came apart in his arms, her sweet cry drifting across the lake.

It took her a long moment to recover her voice enough to speak. “I can't stand it any longer, Constantine,” she managed to say.

“Neither can I.”

More than anything he wanted to keep his promise and not touch her until his ring was on her finger or they were married. But he'd reached the end of his rope. He couldn't keep his hands off her a minute longer. Cradling her close, he waded toward shore.

Before the sun set, Constantine intended to make Gianna his in every sense of the word.

 

Constantine carried Gianna to the cabin with a strength and ease that impacted on the most feminine level. He kicked open the door to her bedroom and entered. The tantalizing scent of forest cedar gently spiced the air. It was dusky and cool, lit only by the late-afternoon sunlight filtering through the gauzy drapes covering the windows. The fading light slid into the room, bathing the bed in a benevolent rosy glow.

He set her on her feet and took a step back. She understood why. He wanted her to be certain, to commit without his touch influencing her. What he didn't understand was that he was the only man with whom she could commit. For the next few hours she intended to forget everything but the two of them. With the rays of a setting sun cloaking them and the privacy of their mountain retreat to hide them away from prying eyes, this moment would be theirs. Just one special day to come together without worrying about right or wrong, or The Inferno, or family expectations.