Dante's Stolen Wife (11 page)

He shook his head in confusion. “
Cara?
What are you doing here?”

“Marco,” she whispered.

And then he knew.

He’d believed her.

It was everything Caitlyn could do to keep from crying. During all the weeks of their marriage, she’d longed for proof that what he felt for her emanated from more than The Inferno. And now, at long last, he’d done just that. How bitterly ironic that he’d been wrong.

“I can explain,” she said. “Britt Jones is
The Snitch
.”

“And you told Britt about The Inferno.”

“Yes. She’d gotten into some files I had. Personal documents of your father’s.” She spared Lazz a swift glance and saw horrified comprehension dawn on his face. “I…I traded her the information.”

“You gave her The Inferno?” Nicolò interrupted, furiously. “Why the hell would you do that? What could possibly have been in those files that made it more advantageous to tell her about private Dante business?”

“It was some rather damning information about the Romanos and your father.” Lazz began to explain, but Caitlyn overrode him. The details of the contract weren’t what mattered. She needed Marco to understand the impossible situation she’d been in, and how and why she’d made her decision. “When I read the latest copy of
The Snitch
, I realized Britt was responsible for the leaks. It couldn’t have been anyone else. I swear I didn’t know it was her before then. When I confronted her, she admitted it.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell one of us?” Marco asked.

“I tried. None of you were there. Not even Nicolò. Britt had information about the Romanos. About the current state of their finances. Marco…” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Marco, they’re broke.”

“We already knew that,” he replied. She’d never heard him speak in such a stony, remote fashion. “What we’re after is their goodwill. We want their endorsement, their contacts. Their lineage.”

Sev held up his hands. “Marco, you have to fly out and talk to Vittorio. Now. Fill him in about The Inferno before he reads about it.”

“I’ll leave immediately.”

“Marco—”

He simply shook his head. Without a word, he left the conference room. Caitlyn followed him, desperate to try again. “Marco, please. Tell Mr. Romano that this will be the final story. I got Britt to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

He turned to confront her. “Why didn’t you tell me about all this before? Last night, for instance?”

“I was going to tell you.” She spared a swift glance over her shoulder to confirm that they were alone.

“We…we got distracted.”

“I don’t have time for this. We’ll settle it when I return.”

She couldn’t let him walk away. Not now. Not like this. If he did, she might never have another chance to fix things. Because if he walked away this time, she didn’t think the rift between them would ever be bridged. “Listen to me. I have an idea for how we can spin this. How we can use it as a marketing tool.”

He stiffened, his eyes darkening to hard amber nuggets. “The Inferno isn’t something you spin, Caitlyn. It isn’t some marketing ploy to sell Dantes jewelry. I’d have thought by now you’d realize that.”

For the first time she sensed how flat-out furious he was. “I…I know that.”

He stalked closer, practically scorching the air with his wrath. “No, clearly you don’t. And that’s the whole problem. You seem to think this is an amusing little story we recount over cocktails. It isn’t. The Inferno goes to the very heart of who and what we are. It’s part of our heritage.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and dragged her hand to his chest. Each beat of his heart sank into her palm, the very palm where The Inferno had first blazed. She tried to hold back her tears and failed. “Marco, I’m so sorry. I had to make a fast decision. I realize now it was the wrong one.”

He simply shook his head. “Right from the start you’ve treated The Inferno as though it were a foolish fairy tale. No matter what I’ve said to you, no matter how many times I’ve explained it, you refuse to understand its true meaning.”

“I understand that it’s important to you. I do.”

“You still don’t get it, Caitlyn.” Not
cara
, she noticed. Maybe never again if she couldn’t find a way to fix this.

“The Inferno is part of me. You can’t pluck it free, like a weed that displeases you. When you deny that part of me, you deny me.”

“No, I—”

He spoke across her protest. “The time for discussion is over. You have refused to accept The Inferno from the very start. I thought given time you’d finally understand. That you’d see it was as much a part of you as it is me.” Weariness cut across his expression. “But it isn’t, is it? You don’t believe. You indulge me as though I were a foolish child. Well, no more.” He released her, cutting off her incipient response with a slicing motion of his hand. “No more.”

She watched as he spun on his heel and walked away. Watched as he left her without a backward glance. And all the while she kneaded the palm of her right hand with the thumb of her left.

T
he next three days were sheer hell for Caitlyn, filled with endless hours in which she combed over every decision, every word of every conversation, as well as those final heartbreaking minutes with Marco. She considered all the alternative choices she could have made and all the possible scenarios that would have resulted from those changes. But no matter which path she chose, she couldn’t think of a single one that would have improved the end result.

Except if she’d told Marco she loved him.

She closed her eyes in distress. Maybe that would have made a difference. Maybe that would have made him less furious. Maybe then The Inferno wouldn’t have been like an unscalable mountain between them. But she hadn’t and he’d left, and she hadn’t heard a word from him since. Only time would tell if they’d be able to find a way over that mountain. But with each passing day, the doubts piled up as hope faded.

“Caitlyn?” Nicolò paused in the doorway of her office and leaned a shoulder against the jamb. “Lazz says I need to come and talk to you. That it’s urgent.”

Caitlyn didn’t bother to conceal her relief, though it didn’t escape her notice that her brother-in-law didn’t actually step foot into her office. “No one’s been willing to listen, and there’s not a lot of time.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, gazing at her with eyes so dark a brown they appeared black. She’d never realized before just how disconcerting they were until he trained them on her. “Some of us aren’t too happy with your efforts to save us from the Jones woman.”

“Really?” Maybe if she hadn’t been so tired or worried or downright ticked off, she wouldn’t have let her temper get out of control. But it had been a rough few days and the expression on Nicolò’s face set her off. Big-time. She stalked across the room toward him.

“Isn’t it interesting that none of you managed to uncover the mole and deal with her. None of you were forced to come up with a plan to derail Britt on the spur of the moment the way I was. Yet, you’re all too happy to point out every last one of my mistakes. After the fact, of course.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Well, I don’t think I made a mistake. What do you think of that? Now, do you want to come in and find out what I have in mind to salvage this mess? Or are you going to let
The Snitch
win?”

A slight smile eased the sternness of Nicolò’s tough-hewn features. “Okay, little sister.” He walked into the room and sprawled in the seat in front of her desk. “I’m always interested in hearing creative solutions to impossible problems. Tell me your idea.”

Instead of returning to her desk, Caitlyn took the chair next to him and leaned forward. “It’s quite simple. The day
The Snitch
is released, the very day, we release a press statement.”

“We.”

She waved that aside. “Dantes, of course. We agree with everything
The Snitch
says. Yes, there really is an Inferno. Yes, when it strikes, Dantes mate for life. Yes, it’s a connection between soul mates.”

“I’m curious.” He tilted his head to one side and fixed those unnerving eyes on her. “Have you lost your mind?”

Enough was enough. “Just wait for it, Nicolò,” she snapped. To her surprise, he did just that. “And then we say that The Inferno’s part of what makes Dantes’ jewelry so spectacular and so special. We tell all those women out there, all those women who would give their eyeteeth to experience The Inferno, that not only is it real, but everything the Dantes touch is imbued with the passion from The Inferno—from the bracelet and necklace that grace a woman’s arms and throat, right down to the fire diamond wedding rings that a man places on his bride’s finger.”

Nicolò straightened in his chair, his gaze sharpening. “Damn.”

“Exactly.”

“No, seriously. Damn. That just might work.” He thought it through, before nodding. “You came up with all that during your negotiation with the Jones woman? On the fly?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You know what I think?”

“Not a clue.”

His smile grew. “I think your talents are totally wasted in the Finance Department.”

Marco arrived back in San Francisco so tired he couldn’t see straight. In the week he’d been gone, his anger had cooled, if not the pain caused by Caitlyn’s decision to tell Britt about The Inferno. He’d endured countless phone calls from each of his brothers, as well as Francesca, Primo and Nonna. Every last one of them had been clear that Britt had acted on her own until that final story, when Caitlyn had taken desperate measures to protect Dantes. And every last one of them supported his wife’s decision.

And so did he, he finally admitted to himself. When all was said and done, he loved Caitlyn and he was determined to find a way to make their marriage work. To his relief, Lazz met him outside baggage claim, though his relief turned to annoyance when his brother started in on him about Caitlyn the instant they climbed in the car.

“What you don’t seem to understand, Marco, is that she had a plan to turn whatever Britt printed about The Inferno to our advantage.” Lazz pulled a face. “Well, that’s Caitlyn. She always has a plan.”

“And how many times do I have to tell you,” Marco responded coldly, “that The Inferno isn’t a marketing ploy?”

“You haven’t even heard her idea, yet.”

Marco scrubbed his hand across his face, striving to push aside his jet lag and focus. “No, you’re right. I haven’t. So, tell me. What did she come up with?” Lazz gave him the details, and Marco leaned back against his seat, his eyes narrowed against the midday sunshine as he absorbed the details. “That’s not half-bad,” he conceded at last.

“Not half-bad? Are you kidding me? It’ll send women flocking to the stores.” Enthusiasm riddled Lazz’s voice. “They’ll all want their small piece of The Inferno.
The Snitch
is going to be furious at how we’ve turned this around.”

“Even so…” Marco shook his head. “You know how I feel about profiting from The Inferno. And I guarantee Primo feels the same way.”

Lazz studied his brother for a long, silent moment. “I’ve thought about this. Seriously, I have. Caitlyn’s idea isn’t some loud, brash ploy. It’s softer than you’re making out. Gentler. It’s almost…”

“Almost what?”

“It’s almost like she believes in The Inferno.”

“We are talking about Caitlyn here, right?”

“That’s what makes it so amazing,” Lazz said. “This isn’t a hard-sell campaign. It’s sweet and romantic. And honest.”

Marco cocked his head to one side, intrigued. “Honest, how?”

“Well, for one thing, if you truly believe in The Inferno—”

“I do.”

“Then, you must believe that our jewelry is imbued with a hint of The Inferno’s passion. I mean, think about it, Marco. Didn’t Francesca create her most spectacular designs after she fell in love with Sev? Doesn’t Primo credit Nonna with the inspiration for his greatest achievements? Don’t you think The Inferno influenced them, brought some of that passion to their work?”

Marco couldn’t deny it. “You really think that’s what inspired her to come up with the marketing campaign?”

Lazz shrugged. “Do you have a better explanation?”

“No.”

A sudden idea struck Marco, one so out there that it could only have been a jet-lag-induced flight of whimsy. But the more he considered the possibility, the more viable it became. It offered him the best of all worlds, an avenue for fixing their problem as well as a way to convince his wife that not only did he love her with all his heart and soul, but that she loved him, too. He just needed a few minutes to wrap his poor, tired brain around all the various details and organize them into a semblance of a plan. Unfortunately, details and organization were his wife’s specialty, not his.

As soon as he’d thought it through, shuffled some of the pieces around and thought it through some more, he turned to Lazz. “There’s something we need to arrange, a small addendum to Caitlyn’s idea.”

Lazz glanced in his direction. “Aw, hell, Marco. I know that look. Nicolò gets it every time he comes up with one of his crazier schemes. Whatever you’re thinking, forget it.”

“Not a chance. If it works, it won’t only guarantee Dantes’ success, but it may prove to my darling, stubborn, pragmatic wife—hell, to all of you unbelievers—that The Inferno really does exist.”

Lazz sighed. “I’m not going to like this idea, am I?”

“Not even a little.” But this was important, perhaps the most important scheme he’d ever put together, with one exception—the night he’d convinced Caitlyn to marry him. “The timing on this is vital.”

“That’s what your wife said.”

“No, I mean we need to time our call to Britt Jones very carefully.”

“What call to Britt Jones?” Lazz asked in alarm.

“The one where I give her a heads-up about our new marketing plan.”

Lazz’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to what?”

“If Britt responds the way I expect her to, not only will our sales double, but more importantly, my wife will realize The Inferno is no fantasy.”

Events transpired just as Caitlyn predicted. Britt’s final article came out in
The Snitch
to mixed reaction. Some thought it sweet, but most treated The Inferno claims with amused disdain. Dantes’ press release broke only hours later and changed all that. To her delight, the story piqued media attention and received impressive coverage under the banner of a light human-interest story.

Women in particular found The Inferno claims quite intriguing, and traffic in and out of the various Dantes stores picked up significantly. Thanks to the extensive media coverage, Marketing and PR arranged for a press conference featuring all of the Dantes, and Caitlyn decided that she had no choice but to join the family on the dais, since she’d been so extensively quoted in Britt’s article. No doubt she’d have to field her fair share of questions.

The one thing she hadn’t anticipated was seeing Britt among the milling press, a Snitch photographer at her side. Her ex-friend made a point of catching Caitlyn’s attention in order to offer a cheeky wave, and seemed delighted by the surprise and dismay her appearance engendered.

“Ignore her,” Francesca recommended. “She’s just living off her five minutes of fame. She doesn’t even warrant the usual fifteen.”

“After the way she spun The Inferno story, I’d have thought this would be the last place she’d want to show her face.” Caitlyn glanced down the row of Dantes.

“Lazz looks on the verge of killing her. I think he felt her betrayal as much as I did.”

“Probably because she was his personal assistant. That had to hurt.”

Caitlyn caught her lip between her teeth. “When does Marco get back from Italy, do you know? I was hoping he’d be here for this.”

Francesca gave her an odd look. “Sev said he got back last night. Didn’t he—” She broke off at her sister-in-law’s expression. “Oh, no. He didn’t come home? Caitlyn, I’m so sorry.”

As though their conversation summoned him, he appeared on the far end of the dais. He didn’t even look her way and Caitlyn’s breath hitched in reaction. She blinked hard against a rush of tears. She needed to calm down, to shove her emotions to one side. She didn’t dare betray her distress. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these witnesses.

The next several minutes passed in a haze. She heard various Dantes speak, heard questions being lobbed in, caught and spun back out again. It wasn’t until Britt stepped forward that Caitlyn’s focus sharpened to pinpoint intensity.

“Hello, Marco,” she practically purred. “I just wanted to thank you for your call yesterday.”

Caitlyn’s head jerked in his direction. “Did you know about that?” she whispered to Francesca.

“No,” her sister-in-law murmured in return. “Sev never said a word. And judging by the expression on my dear husband’s face, he didn’t know, either.”

Britt continued to address Marco. “One of the things you said during our conversation was that there wasn’t any way to prove or disprove The Inferno. Let’s see. How did you phrase it? Something along the lines of ‘that was the beauty of your family’s scam.’” She laughed. “Oops. I mean, your family legend.”

“I believe I said that you couldn’t disprove it. You really should strive for accuracy when you quote people. I’ve noticed it’s an ongoing problem of yours.”

Caitlyn shut her eyes. Oh, Marco. Why did he feel the need to tweak her tail? Hadn’t he learned yet how vindictive Britt was?

As though reading Caitlyn’s mind, Britt bared her teeth. “Well, surprise, surprise. I have come up with a way to disprove it. Your marketing department claims that a bit of this Inferno is imbued in every piece of jewelry you sell…” She touched her earrings. “Not that you could prove it by me—”

“I suppose there are some people even The Inferno can’t help,” he offered.

Britt’s smile vanished. “Well, I’d like you to prove The Inferno, right here and now.”

Marco folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous, Britt. How are we supposed to do that?”

“No, no, no,” Caitlyn whispered beneath her breath.

“He’s playing right into her hands.”

To her surprise, Francesca began to smile. “Don’t be so sure. I have the impression your husband has that woman’s number better than you do.”

Britt climbed onto the dais, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “I happen to have the answer to that right here.” She opened a voluminous bag she had slung over her shoulder. “I suggest we put it to a little test. You and Lazz are twins. I’d like to see if your wife can pick out which one of you is which, using only The Inferno.”

Caitlyn stilled. “I can do that,” she told Francesca. “That’s simple.”

As though Britt had heard, she pulled out a hood and a pair of earplugs. “Without the use of her eyes or ears, of course.” Interest rippled through the gathering, and she played to the crowd. “Now, I’ve tested these myself. She’s not going to be able to see or hear anything. Then I want Marco and Lazz to line up in front of her and if she can pick out the right brother, I’ll take back every last word I ever said about the Dantes. Even the positive stuff.”

“Interesting, but…” He shook his head. “It’s not a sweet enough deal. I’m thinking we should go for broke.”