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Dante's Honor-Bound Husband
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Gianna Must Have Realized
He Had No Intention Of Leaving.
With a sigh of irritation, she walked to her closet, flinging open the door and disappearing inside. Curious, he followed.
“Madre di Dio,” Constantine murmured faintly.
“I don’t want to hear a word about it,” she retorted, her back to him.
He caught the defensive edge in her voice. “Just out of curiosity, how many pairs of shoes do you own?”
Gianna turned, clutching a pair of heels. “Not enough. They’re not all mine. Some of them are Francesca’s. We discovered a while back that we both wear identical sizes.”
Constantine folded his arms across his chest. “Should I assume that if some of these are hers, she has some of yours?”
“That’s none of your business,” she muttered.
“It will be when we marry.”
She held up a hand. “Okay, stop right there. There is no ‘when.’ There is only a very shaky ‘maybe.’”
Dear Reader,
It has been such a pleasure to write about the Dante family romances, to see each member succumb to The Inferno, that all-consuming blaze of heat and electricity that a Dante experiences when he or she first touches their soul mate. Now it’s Gianna’s turn, and she has an even more difficult path to happily-ever-after than any of her brothers or cousins.
You may remember meeting the hero, Constantine Romano, in Dante’s Contract Marriage, where Lazz Dante and Ariana Romano met for the first time while exchanging their wedding vows. Constantine is Ariana’s brother, and apparently that infamous wedding day saw more than one Romano Infernoed!
But Constantine Romano isn’t a man easily manipulated, not even by The Inferno. He is a man who makes his own decisions in life and controls his own destiny. And he isn’t happy to discover that control taken away from him by either The Inferno or the woman on the other side of that first, electric touch—Gianna Dante.
I hope you enjoy discovering how Gianna’s love story plays out. But stay tuned. Although this is the final book in the current quartet, it may not be the final tale in The Dante Legacy. Read on to discover why!
Warmly,
Day Leclaire
DAY LECLAIRE
DANTE’S
HONOR-BOUND
HUSBAND
Books by Day Leclaire
Desire
*The Forbidden Princess #1780
*The Prince’s Mistress #1786
*The Royal Wedding Night #1792
The Billionaire’s Baby Negotiation #1821
†Dante’s Blackmailed Bride #1852 (Severo & Francesca’s story)
†Dante’s Stolen Wife #1870 (Marco & Caitlyn’s story)
†Dante’s Wedding Deception #1880 (Nicolò & Kiley’s story)
†Dante’s Contract Marriage #1899 (Lazzaro & Ariana’s story)
Mr. Strictly Business #1921
Inherited: One Child #1953
Lone Star Seduction #1983
†Dante’s Ultimate Gamble #2017 (Luciano & Téa’s story)
†Dante’s Temporary Fiancée #2037 (Rafaelo & Larkin’s story)
†Dante’s Marriage Pact #2057 (Draco & Shayla’s story)
Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress #2060
†Dante’s Honor-Bound Husband #2087 (Gianna and Constantine’s story)
DAY LECLAIRE
USA TODAY bestselling author Day Leclaire is described by Harlequin Books as “one of our most popular writers ever!” Day’s tremendous worldwide popularity has made her a member of Harlequin’s “Five Star Club,” with sales of well over five million books. She is a three-time winner of both a Colorado Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill Award. She’s won RT Book Reviews Career Achievement and Love and Laughter Awards, a Holt Medallion and a Booksellers’ Best Award. She has also received an impressive ten nominations for the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award.
Day’s romances touch the heart and make you care about her characters as much as she does. In Day’s own words, “I adore writing romances, and can’t think of a better way to spend each day.” For more information, visit Day on her website, www.dayleclaire.com.
To Mary-Theresa Hussey.
An absolutely brilliant editor.
A kind and generous person.
As always, it’s been such a delight working with you.
Thank you for making my books more.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Prologue
“Don’t go.”
Constantine Romano closed his eyes and fought for control. “I have no choice.” His integrity, his honor as a Romano, everything that made him a man demanded he leave.
“Then let me go with you.” Gianna Dante lifted her gaze to his, her striking jade-green eyes bright with tears, her hair a glorious tumble of autumn-gold and brown. “I can help you.”
Her plea pushed him to the limit of his self-control, where he teetered between honor and caving to the intensity of his need to make her his. He fought to resist and couldn’t, not entirely. He cupped her face and snatched a kiss. Took another, then sank in. God, she was amazing. Stunning. Intelligent. Graceful. Possessing a femininity that left him desperate with longing.
They’d met when his sister, Ariana, had married Gianna’s cousin, Lazz. The moment he’d taken her hand in his, he’d been hit by an overwhelming flame of desire. A physical flash and burn that had shocked him to the core with its all-encompassing depth and strength and power. In that instant, every other thought and emotion had ceased to exist except for a cascade of urgent directives….
Take her.
Make her his.
Put his stamp on her in every and any way possible.
“I want you to come with me, even though I don’t understand any of this,” he admitted. Didn’t understand how he could want so fast and so deeply. How a single weekend with her could make him so certain that she was the only one for him. “How is it possible that in just a few short days I know that you’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with?”
Her gaze dropped and for a split second she looked almost guilty. Though what she had to feel guilty about, he couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t her fault that he’d been overwhelmed with this desperate need to possess her. More than anything he wanted to take her to his bed, but he knew, even without her telling him, that she’d never been with a man before. And if he couldn’t put his ring on her finger, he refused to dishonor either of them—or their families—by making love to her. Not until he could afford to offer marriage.
“I didn’t expect to feel such intense desire, either,” she confessed. Her gaze flitted upward, filled with heartbreak. “Please, Constantine. I don’t want you to leave.”
He tugged her closer and allowed their bodies to collide and meld once again. “I don’t want to leave, either, piccola. But until I have something more to offer than my name, I must return home to Italy.”
“For how long?”
A good question. Too bad it was one he couldn’t answer. “Until I get my restoration business up and running. Until I can afford a wife and have the means to support her.” He stopped her when she would have argued, stopped her in the most delicious way possible. “Don’t, Gianna. Don’t ask me to compromise my values. I’ll return as soon as I can. And when I do, I’ll be in the position to offer you marriage. To put my ring on your finger. This I swear on my family name.”
He could see endless arguments building, arguments she controlled and suppressed, impressing the hell out of him. “I’ll wait. You know I’ll wait. And in the meantime, we can talk on the phone.” Her chin quivered, but she used a considerable amount of will to steady it. “And there’s always email. I’ll fly over as often as I can. Maybe you can visit during holidays.”
Every word she uttered made it more and more difficult. Nearly impossible. He gathered her hands in his. “Listen to me, Gianna… In order to get back to you as soon as possible, I must focus on work. Every minute of every day. It’s the only way to make it happen quickly.”
A frown formed between her brows. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re a distraction. I’m saying if you’re with me or come to visit or if we are constantly calling one another or emailing, I won’t be able to give my full attention to my business. It’s at a critical point right now. The only way I can return to you in the least amount of time is if I give one hundred percent of my time and attention to Romano Restoration.”
Her breath hitched. “Oh, no. Constantine, you can’t mean it. No phone calls? Not even emails?”
She was killing him by inches. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t cave while everything within him insisted he do just that. “Please understand, amore. Please trust me.”
A tear escaped, but she swept it away. Determination filled her expression. “Okay, Constantine, we’ll do this your way. For now.” Her eyes glittered with emotion. “But you come back. Soon,” she ordered fiercely.
“As soon as I can,” he promised.
And then he left her. He forced himself not to look back, even though it was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. With every step he took, he felt that odd connection that joined them. Felt it compelling him to return to her arms, urging him to take what was his. He’d never experienced anything like it. Oh, he’d return to her. He had no choice. But it would be on his terms.
Soon. Dear God, just let it be soon.
Gianna watched Constantine walk away until the tears blurring her eyes made it impossible to see any longer. Should she have told him? Had she made a mistake not explaining about The Inferno—the family “blessing” that sparked between a man and a woman whenever a Dante first touched his or her soul mate? Perhaps. As for keeping it a secret… Well, she had her reasons, not that he’d appreciate them once he discovered the truth behind their odd connection.
She closed her eyes, accepting the hand fate had dealt her. The Inferno had struck almost all of her other Dante relatives…all of her male Dante relatives the first time they met the women who were their soul mates. As the lone female Dante, no one knew whether it was even possible for her to experience The Inferno. She’d learned the answer to that question when she and Constantine first touched. She could and she did. Unfortunately the secret she’d learned about The Inferno hadn’t altered that basic fact.
But she’d been afraid to explain the Dantes’ odd…condition…to Constantine. In the short time she’d known him, she’d realized he was a man who preferred to govern his own destiny, to control his world and those in it. Once he discovered that The Inferno drove the desire and passion he felt, would he be compelled to fight it? They’d had too little time together to know for certain. Until she could be sure, it would remain her little secret.
Now all she could do was wait for Constantine’s return. Wait and see if The Inferno was real…or an illusion. If her family had been correct in their beliefs about it…or if the secret she’d uncovered all those years ago was the real truth. Only time would tell.
Soon. Dear God, just let it be soon.
One
He’d returned.
Constantine Romano entered the room as though he owned the place. But then, he possessed the sort of presence bred into the very essence of the man. The sort of presence that went with his aristocratic name and stunning bone structure and taut, muscular body. He wore his hair longer than before, the ebony curls and fierce black eyes summoning images of dangerous pirates and ferocious duels of honor. Beneath that elegant exterior smoldered a man of action, who would risk everything, dare all and take whatever he wanted.
And he wanted her.
Gianna Dante shuddered, struggling to gather up her self-control. She’d have to face him and soon. Since their first meeting, over a year and a half ago, a lot had changed. Though she now doubted Constantine had experienced The Inferno during that unforgettable weekend they’d shared, The Inferno had given him an uncanny knack for sensing her presence. That much she remembered. Any second he’d hone in on her and she’d darn well better be prepared.
“Gianna? Would you care to check the display?”
It took her a moment to switch gears and focus on work. Tomorrow marked Dantes’ Midsummer Night’s gala and a million details remained, each requiring her immediate attention. As Dantes’ event coordinator, she took care of everything from the catering to the decorations to the displays to the invitations. Fortunately she had an excellent assistant who was every bit as detail-oriented as she was herself.
“Thank you, Tara. I’ll be right there.”
Considering that Constantine stood between her and the display in question, she might as well get the coming confrontation over with. She took a deep breath. No big deal, she tried to tell herself. The feelings she’d experienced that long-ago weekend had faded over the ensuing months, months which had ticked by with excruciating slowness. The legendary Dante Inferno, that amazing sensation of volcanic fire that erupted when he’d taken her hand in his had quieted, drifting into dormancy. She could handle this.
She’d simply make it clear to him that she’d moved on.
Gianna started across Dantes’ ballroom toward him, thankful that by some blessing of fate she’d chosen to wear one of her “killer” outfits. The vibrant red jacket and tight, short skirt showed off her figure to its best advantage, and the mile-high open-toe heels were the perfect showcase for the gorgeous legs she’d inherited from her equally gorgeous mother. Her hair was longer than the last time she’d seen him, flowing in heavy, layered curls to the middle of her back.
Let him look. Let him want. And let him regret.
She hadn’t traversed more than a half dozen steps before Constantine stilled with abrupt predatory awareness. His head turned in her direction and his ink-dark eyes glittered with unmistakable intent. He came for her, moving with a focused grace that almost sent her fleeing in the opposite direction. To her shock, he didn’t stop when he reached her, but kept coming. He invaded her space and swept her into his arms. Then, with her name on his lips and a smothered protest on hers, he kissed her.
He devoured her, the kiss one of blatant possession, branding her with a mark of ownership that in any other situation she’d have fought with every ounce of her strength. Instead all thought of resistance melted beneath the blazing heat and she sank inward, opening herself to him. He tasted like ambrosia combined with a hint of spice and topped with a hard, masculine kick. It utterly devastated her senses, along with every scrap of practicality.
It had been so incredibly long since they last touched—nineteen months, five days, eight hours and a handful of minutes. Desire in the form of The Inferno had exploded between them at that first touch. Then after a single weekend of bliss, he’d left her.
Despair vied with an incandescent joy. His coming now, after all this time was too little, too late. Why now? Why, when she’d finally come to terms with the impossibility of knowing the sort of Inferno love affair that everyone else in her family possessed, had Constantine chosen this moment to return?
It wasn’t fair.
“Stop,” she managed to protest. “This is wrong.”
How could she tell him? How could she say the words that threatened to break her heart? She’d moved on. She’d found someone else.
He finally picked up on her signals and pulled back a few precious inches. “Stop?” He captivated her with a single smile. “What are you
talking about, piccola? After all this time, we’re together again. How could something so incredibly right possibly be wrong?”
She slipped free of his embrace and tugged at the bottom of her jacket to straighten it. Somehow the first two buttons had come undone revealing a tantalizing flash of black lace. She did her best to neaten all the various bits and pieces he’d rumpled. She moistened her lips, aware he’d kissed every bit of lipstick from them.
“It’s good to see you, Constantine,” she said with polite formality.
He froze. “Good to see me?” he repeated softly.
She flinched at the dangerous tone, one infused with the warmth of his Tuscan home, yet chilled with the ice of his displeasure. This was going to be far more difficult than she’d anticipated. “Are you here on business? I hope you’ll take a few minutes to drop by my grandparents before you return to Italy.” She offered a friendly smile to cover up her nervous chatter. “They were asking after you the other day.”
“Don’t you understand? I’ve relocated to San Francisco.”
No. No, no, no! It wasn’t fair. Not now, after all this time. Praying that none of her thoughts were echoed in her expression, she kept her smile pinned in place, a careless, nonchalant one that made it clear that his news didn’t make the least difference to her. “Congratulations.”
He caught her chin in the palm of his hand and tipped her face up to his. “Is that all you have to say to me? Congratulations?”
Her smile faded along with all attempts at concealing her emotions. Pain and anger ripped through her and she jerked back from his touch, her impetuous nature decimating her common sense. “What do you want from me, Constantine?” she demanded, the question escaping in a low, fierce undertone. “It’s been nearly two years. I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.”
His head jerked back as though she’d slapped him. “Moved on?” His accent thickened, deepened. “What does this mean…moved on?”