Dante's Stolen Wife Page 11

  “I felt something that morning, you know,” he surprised her by saying.

  She shook her head in genuine bewilderment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “In the conference room. The morning after you married Marco.” He came out from behind his desk to join her and edged his hip on the corner nearest her chair. “I don’t believe in The Inferno. At least, I never have. But that morning…”

  She could guess where he was going with this and dismissed it with a shake of her head. “The only thing you felt that morning was anger and perhaps a touch of jealousy.”

  “True. But I also felt a tingle.” He rubbed his thumb across his palm and frowned. “Right here.”

  “I don’t know who’s set off your little Inferno detector,” she replied, gesturing toward his palm. “But it wasn’t me. It’s not possible.” Or was it that she didn’t want it to be possible? Because if Lazz felt it, too, it would be proof that The Inferno didn’t work.

  His brow creased in genuine bewilderment. “Well, there wasn’t anyone else there who could have set it off.”

  “You Dantes and your itchy palms. Do you feel it now?” She put more than a hint of exasperation into the question.

  “Maybe.” His brows drew together. “A little.”

  “Well, Marco doesn’t feel it a little. If he’s not careful, he’s going to rub himself raw.”

  Lazz’s mouth tilted upward at the corner. “You sound like a mother hen.” Then his amusement faded, replaced by an emotion she didn’t want to see in any man’s eyes but one. And it wasn’t the man lounging in front of her. “I was going to propose that night, you know.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “It should have been us in front of a priest.”

  “No, it shouldn’t have.”

  She’d never been more certain of anything in her life. The insight came in a bittersweet rush, and she shut her eyes, accepting what she’d been steadfastly denying for weeks now. It didn’t matter whether or not The Inferno was real, or whether or not she believed in it. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t followed Gran’s directives before marrying. Or that she’d chosen a charmer instead of someone more logical and down-to-earth like Lazz. None of it mattered, but one simple fact. Her breath caught, stumbled.

  She loved Marco.

  “Caitlyn?”

  “Oh, God.” Tears filled her eyes and leaked into her voice as she shot to her feet. “I am such a fool.”

  He straightened. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and patted awkwardly. “We can fix this. I’ll find you a lawyer. It’ll all work out.”

  “No. You don’t understand.” She lifted her head and looked at him. Truly looked at him. How could she have ever thought she couldn’t tell one brother from the other? They were nothing alike. Felt nothing the same.

  “I love him, Lazz.”

  “Aw, hell. That’s not good.”

  “No. What’s not good is you having your hands on my wife.” The door banged closed behind Marco. “I suggest you remove them before I remove them for you.”

  Nine

  Marco fought against a blinding rage. Fought to keep his hands off his brother so he didn’t do something one of them would barely live to regret. Caitlyn was his wife. His. Lazz had no business touching her, and he’d explain that fact in language his brother couldn’t mistake.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Caitlyn said.

  He spared her a brief glance. “Don’t. Don’t act like I’m the one at fault when I walk in and discover you in my brother’s arms.” He transferred his attention to his twin. “For some truly annoying reason, you’re still touching my wife.”

  Swearing, Lazz held up his hands and took a step back. “Satisfied now?”

  “I won’t be satisfied until I’ve pounded less identical into your face.”

  “So Caitlyn can tell the difference between us?” Lazz bit off a laugh. “Trust me. She’s not the least confused on that front.”

  Marco formed his hands into fists. “I think I’ll just make sure of that fact.”

  Caitlyn stepped between the two brothers, the one place she least belonged. “Could we please bring the testosterone level down a notch? Lazz, you’re not helping a bit. Marco, there’s a very simple explanation for all this.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well…”

  She lifted an eyebrow at Lazz, who shook his head. A flash of annoyance flitted across her face, though it was nothing compared to Marco’s annoyance that she needed his brother’s approval before explaining the situation.

  “I can’t tell you,” Caitlyn said, a statement that succeeded in shooting Marco’s temper straight through the roof. “But I assure you, it’s strictly business.”

  “Lazz with his arms around you was strictly business?” He struggled to rein in his fury. “‘Strictly business’ made you cry?”

  “That was…” She faltered. “That was something else.”

  “I think it’s time I clarified matters,” Marco said.

  “Just in case there are any lingering questions.”

  “Marco—”

  He cut her off with a sweep of his hand. “No, this needs to be said. The wound can’t heal until the poison’s been drawn out.” He turned on his brother. “In case you missed the announcement, Caitlyn and I are married now, Lazz. We’re in the process of building a life together. And I won’t let anyone, particularly not my own brother, dismantle so much as a single brick of what Caitlyn and I have struggled to cement in place. You are not to interfere in our marriage again. Am I clear on this point?”

  Marco watched the war waging across his brother’s face. Even though he understood why Lazz found it so difficult to let go, this needed to end, here and now. In the past his family had always had his back, just as he’d always had theirs. He never had to question their unconditional loyalty and support. He wanted that assurance again, to trust implicitly instead of constantly checking behind him to see whether someone had stuck a knife between his shoulder blades.

  He waited for Lazz’s response, waited for the poison to well up, a poison that had been left to fester for far too long. Finally, it erupted, spilled over in messy waves.

  “You took her from me. You lied to her!” Lazz accused. “You went after her like some thief in the night and tricked her into marrying you. She should have the choice to leave, if she wants.”

  Marco inclined his head. “I agree. But what you don’t understand, what you continue to ignore, is that she has always had the choice to leave. And yet she stays with me. There’s a reason for that, Lazz. And that reason is why you need to step aside.” He let his comments sink in before adding, “She was never yours. You tried to convince yourself she was, tried to bind her to you. But from the moment you first saw her, it was already too late.”

  “I planned to marry her!”

  Didn’t Lazz get it? “Even if she left me now, she would still never be yours. Not in the way you want, not the way a wife should be. I would always stand between you. And if not me, then the ghost of our relationship.”

  “Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Lazz hit back. “Standing between the two of you? Isn’t that why you’re so jealous, because I had a relationship with her?”

  Marco shook his head. “You know it wasn’t a true relationship. Caitlyn and I settled that issue long ago. You’re not part of our marriage, Lazz. What you had with her was merely an illusion.”

  Stubbornness clung to Lazz’s face. “Only because you interfered.”

  Marco tried again to get through to his brother. “If you’d taken the relationship further than those first few steps, it would have eventually fallen apart. The woman you are meant to have hasn’t come into your life yet. But, I swear to you, Lazz. You will know her when she does. And when that happens you’ll realize that what you feel for Caitlyn is a pale imitation of the real thing.”

  “That’s enough, Marco. You’ve made your point.” Once
again Caitlyn placed herself between the two men.

  “Lazz, I realize this is your office, but could you give Marco and me a minute, please?”

  He hesitated just long enough to nudge Marco’s temper back into the hot zone, before nodding. “Sure.”

  The minute they were alone, Caitlyn caught Marco’s hand in hers. “Listen to me. I promise you, the information I relayed to Lazz was confidential and absolutely business related. If you want to know more, you’ll have to discuss it with him, since it’s his information to share.”

  “Why were you crying?” He could still see lingering traces of her tears. That troubled him more than anything, and he could only think of one explanation. He steeled himself against that possibility. “Was it because of us? Because of our marriage?”

  “I was…I was happy crying.”

  She was holding something back. He could tell. Just as he could tell that her tears weren’t ones of pure joy.

  “Then answer me this, cara. Why were you happy crying with your brother-in-law instead of with your husband?”

  “It just sort of hit me while I was in here.” This time when she looked at him he couldn’t mistake the unwavering certainty in her gaze. “I don’t regret our marriage. I don’t wish I’d married Lazz instead of you, in case there’s still any question. But there is an issue we need to clarify.”

  “Which is?”

  “It’s this project I’ve been assigned, and how it came about.”

  She caught him off guard with the change in subject. He could guess the direction she was headed with this, and it wasn’t a place he cared to go. “And?”

  She hesitated, no doubt organizing her thoughts. He’d always found it one of her more endearing characteristics. Until now. “You should know that my career gives me security and independence, and I have a serious problem being kept in the dark about decisions that affect my job.”

  “I thought you were happy with your new assignment,” he offered cautiously.

  A hint of fire sparked in her blue eyes. “You’re missing the point—deliberately, I think. I love my job, both old and new. But I’ve worked hard to get where I am and I refuse to be sidetracked. My career ensures that I don’t have to depend on anyone for anything. I’ll always know that if something should happen at some point down the road, like it did with Gran, I can take care of myself.”

  His mouth tightened. “In other words, if some charmer—me, for instance—sweeps in and tries to sell you a ticket for the next ride over the rainbow, you’ll have a pot of gold stashed away to fall back on.” He cocked his head to one side. “Close?”

  “Dead on.”

  “Just where the hell did you get the idea I’m trying to interfere with your job security?”

  She released his hand and turned toward Lazz’s desk. A folder rested on the edge, and she played with the cover. “Tell me something, Marco. Who arranged for me to head this new project, a project supposedly no one else on the face of the planet is capable of successfully completing but me?” She shoved the folder to one side and shot him a keen look. “It was you, wasn’t it? You asked my supervisor to use me on this job.”

  Over the past several days he’d begun to pick up on his wife’s moods. Her eyes gleamed the most brilliant shade of teal whenever something satisfied her. And they darkened to indigo whenever heartache threatened. Worry caused her to nibble at her lower lip—something he was quick to put a stop to. He had personal designs on that lip, as he took pains to show her on a regular basis. But most telling of all were the danger signals that flashed, warning of her anger. And holy hell, they might as well be flashing bright red right now.

  “Yes, I asked that you be assigned this new project,” he informed her.

  “In order to keep me away from Lazz?”

  “Huh.” He pretended to give it some thought. “If that was my goal, it doesn’t seem to be working, does it? Because here you are.”

  His flippancy didn’t go over well. “This is serious, Marco. The morning after we were married you told me you wanted me to keep my distance from Lazz and that you’d make certain it happened. Is this your way of making certain? So much for trust.”

  He answered truthfully. “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s my brother. In case you didn’t notice, he’s feeling a bit raw right now. I don’t want you in the middle, despite how often you feel the need to put yourself there. This project should only take you a month or two to organize, and to be honest, I can’t think of anyone more qualified to head it up. By the time you have it under control—and it is a critical project, by the way, not crayons and busy work—the family dynamics will have settled down and returned to normal. Especially after our little talk here today. At that point, you’re free to resume your old job.”

  “Funny. I don’t remember being in on that discussion when it happened.”

  “Yeah.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “It’s possible you didn’t get the memo. I’m sorry, cara. I should have told you.”

  “Discussed it with me,” she corrected sharply.

  “Allowed me to have a say in the final decision.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything,” he informed her gently. “You would have argued. I would have argued. But in the end I would have won.”

  She stiffened. “Is that how all the decisions will be made in our marriage?”

  “I’m just trying to protect you.”

  “That didn’t answer my question, and I don’t need your protection,” she protested.

  “Yes, you do. You married a Dante, Caitlyn. You may not have realized which one at the time you said ‘I do,’ but you were well aware when you took your vows that your life would change because of my family. The stories in The Snitch, alone, should have warned you of that.”

  Temper flashed to the boiling point. “And part of marrying a Dante is having my decisions made for me? Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Enough, Caitlyn. I promised to consult you in the future. And I will. Just as you’re going to promise me that you won’t use my brother’s shoulder for anymore happy tears.”

  “No one’s shoulder but yours?”

  “I’ll try and bear up under the strain.” He hesitated. Since they were clearing the air, this struck him as a good time to warn her about his own job change.

  “There’s some other news I should tell you about.”

  “Tell me…or warn me?”

  “A little of both, I suppose. I consider it good news, though knowing The Snitch, they’ll find a way to put a negative spin on it.” He watched her closely, hoping to gauge her reaction to the news. “I’ve decided to turn my international duties over to Lazz. Since he’s already put in extensive time dealing with our foreign offices, it made the most sense.”

  A hint of worry edged into her eyes. “But, why? I thought you loved your job.”

  “I do. Unfortunately, it means I’m out of the country more often than I’m home. I didn’t mind before we met, but I don’t like being away from you so often or for so long. It’s not healthy for a marriage.”

  Caitlyn removed the folder from Lazz’s desk and tucked it under her arm. “Does this have anything to do with keeping Lazz and me apart?”

  “Let’s consider that an added bonus.”

  She closed her eyes for a brief instant. “Oh, Marco.” She looked at him then, gazing with such sorrow that he flinched. “After everything that’s been said here today, this still isn’t over, is it?”

  “You and Lazz? Over and done. Some of our issues?” He couldn’t lie. “Let’s just say we have a ways to go yet.”

  Over the next several days it became clear to Caitlyn that a rift had formed between her and Marco, one they found difficult to bridge. When they came together each night, she sensed a desperation behind their lovemaking as each of them struggled to find a way to repair the damaged connection. To make matters worse, Marco announced that he and Lazz would be flying to Europe for a few days to help smooth over the transition of duties.

/>   “I’ll be back next Friday night.” Experience had him making short work of packing his bags. “When I return we settle this once and for all.”

  Before he left, he took her in his arms and kissed her in a way that knocked down barriers and left her hoping that maybe, just maybe, their marriage would work out. And then he was gone.

  The week passed at a crawl, and Caitlyn used the opportunity to make significant strides with the warehouse project. She set aside the personal files she’d unearthed, including the contract she’d shown Lazz, and focused instead on reorganizing her team. By midweek, she’d gotten the transfer from paper to digital moving along at a record pace. In a few days she would have the time and focus necessary to go through the box of personal files more carefully in order to decide what to do with the contents.

  Friday morning she headed into work feeling more cheerful than she had in days. Marco was due home that evening and she couldn’t wait. The time had come to face facts. She loved Marco, loved him with all her heart. It didn’t matter anymore how their marriage had come about. What mattered was where they took it from here.

  Entering her office, she picked up the box of files she’d sidelined over the past week and set it on her desk. And that’s when she saw it. Someone had gotten to her office ahead of her and left an early edition of The Snitch on her desk. She almost trashed it, unread. But the headlines caught her eye and she sat down to read. Twenty minutes later she jumped up and went flying out the door. With Marco in Europe, she had his car at her disposal and she headed straight over to the main office building. Once there, she hastened to Britt’s desk, a desk occupied by Angie.

  “Where’s Britt?” Caitlyn demanded.

  Angie stared at her in confusion. “I thought she was with you. She asked if I’d cover her desk while she went over to the warehouse.”

  Caitlyn inhaled sharply. The warehouse. The warehouse where sitting on her desk were files that were a literal goldmine of information for The Snitch’s snitch. She fought to stay calm and think. First off, she needed help. Marco and Lazz were out of the country. Sev was in New York with Francesca. That left Nicolò.