Dante's Contract Marriage Page 4

  If his life depended on it, he couldn’t have said what had happened in the course of the past ten minutes. From the instant he took Ariana’s hand in his own, everything changed. His illusion of control was ripped away, shredded in the howling winds of the tornado that tore through him. Reason vanished, as well. One thought consumed him.

  Claim this woman. Grab hold of her and never let go.

  He needed to make her his in every way possible. To make her understand that they were connected. That they belonged together. He vaguely heard the priest instruct him to kiss Ariana, and he wanted to shout in exultation.

  First came the touch that linked them. Then came the kiss. And later, when they were alone, he would complete the bond between them. He would make her his in every sense of the word.

  She trembled in his arms, but it wasn’t fear that caused it. He could sense a hint of nervousness when he kissed her. Of surprise. Then it changed. The rapid pounding of her heart matched his, the passion blooming within her a mate for his own. Whatever the connection between them, it went both ways, a circuit completed.

  And then, as though from a great distance, Lazz heard Marco in his capacity of best man. “I believe that’s now Dantes zero,” he murmured, just loud enough for Lazz to hear. “The Inferno four for four. Looks like the family blessing wins again.”

  The instant the words penetrated, he released Ariana and yanked himself free of the flames. No. Not a chance in hell. It couldn’t be The Inferno. And yet, what other explanation could there be for what he felt? For his complete and utter loss of control? He’d never set eyes on Ariana before, at least not since she was a child of five, and yet it was as though he knew her. Worse than that, he wanted her with a wanton desperation he’d never experienced toward another woman.

  She stared up at him with an expression of dazed bewilderment. “What just happened?” she asked in Italian.

  “Absolutely nothing.” He refused to even consider any other possibility.

  They turned to face the congregation, and he saw a hint of amusement sparkle in her gaze, the same amusement he’d heard in her voice during the phone conversations they’d shared. “If that’s ‘nothing,’ I can’t wait to give ‘something’ a try.”

  They weren’t given the opportunity for further conversation. Church bells rang out, and the strings began a joyous recessional. Ariana slipped her hand through Lazz’s arm, and together they made their way down the aisle. As they passed the front pew, he caught a glimpse of his grandparents. Nonna dabbed at tears while Primo regarded him with an expression of such relief that Lazz nearly flinched.

  Secrets and lies. He despised them, even as he lived them. He’d spent the last several months trying to convince himself that his reasons were sound, that recovering Brimstone was worth the minor inconvenience of a temporary marriage. But looking at his grandfather, Lazz knew that Primo would never have approved his decision, not if it meant consigning a hundred Brimstones to the deep blue sea. There was only one way of winning Primo’s approval.

  Lazz would have to marry his Inferno mate.

  As though picking up on his thoughts, Ariana leaned in. “What happened when we first touched?” she asked in an undertone.

  “Like I said. Nothing.” The denial came automatically. It was another lie or, more likely, a hope. He escorted her to the limousine waiting to drive them to their reception at Le Premier. The driver opened the door while Lazz helped his bride in.

  The instant the door enclosed them in dusky privacy, she shifted to face him. “That wasn’t nothing. When you took my hand, you shocked me,” she argued. “And don’t try and tell me it was static electricity.”

  “It was static electricity.”

  Instead of arguing, she smiled. “Have it your way. When you’re ready to tell me the truth, let me know.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  She leaned closer, and he struggled to keep his hands off her, to keep himself from kissing her again. He longed to see if what they’d experienced before was a onetime deal or an insanity he could expect every time they touched. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she told him, “you’ve already broken your first marital condition. No secrets, remember?”

  Son of a—“This isn’t the appropriate time.”

  “Of course not,” she instantly agreed. “Though your comment suggests there is…something.”

  “Delicately put. And yes, there is something. But it has nothing to do with us. Nothing to do with what happened at the church.” He refused to even consider the possibility.

  “And what did happen at the church?”

  “We kissed.” And time stopped. The gates to heaven opened. And the earth moved—without benefit of an earthquake.

  To his relief, the limousine pulled up in front of the hotel, putting an end to their discussion. Their marriage was temporary, he reminded himself. He’d be a fool to expect anything else, to complicate a simple, straightforward agreement with whatever form of lunacy held him in its grip, especially considering Ariana’s marital conditions.

  Once inside, they joined the wedding party in a receiving line. No sooner were they free from that duty when the orchestra began the opening strands of a waltz. Lazz took Ariana’s hand in his and led her out onto the floor for the opening dance. Applause drifted through the assembled guests as the bridal couple circled the room. But Lazz might as well have been deaf and blind to everyone but the woman he held close to his heart.

  She fit in his arms as though the universe had deliberately formed her as his perfect counterpart. A deep melding formed where their palms joined, a melding he’d often heard his brothers refer to. Even so, he refused to believe it was The Inferno.

  He’d felt a similar tingling before in Caitlyn’s presence the day after she’d married Marco. Granted, it hadn’t been this strong. Not even close. But he refused to give in to the family delusion, to pretend that whatever he felt toward his temporary wife could be anything more than simple, ordinary lust. He’d accepted long ago that fairy tales weren’t meant for him. And who wouldn’t have reacted to Ariana? His wife was a beautiful woman.

  Lazz gazed down at her. Incredibly beautiful, he corrected. Stunning. Her face contained an intriguing mixture of lushness and delicacy. And while her features were fine-boned and aristocratic, her mouth was full and ripe and the exact color of sun-kissed peaches. She gazed up at him with sweetly wanton eyes that exactly matched the deep, rich brown of bittersweet chocolate. Even her skin revealed the complexity of her nature, passion giving a rosy glow to the creamy white blending of her Latin heritage with her British.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look?” The words escaped of their own volition.

  “Thank you. I can’t take credit for it. It was an accident of birth.”

  He laughed. “That was one hell of an accident.”

  “You appeared surprised when you lifted the veil. Why?”

  “I’d never seen you before. Well, not since we were children,” he corrected.

  An odd expression drifted across her face, part pain and part exasperation. “That’s not true. We were in the same room together not so many months ago.”

  Lazz stared. “Are you serious?”

  “Quite serious.”

  “Not a chance,” he denied. “If we’d met that recently, I’d have remembered. When was this? Where?”

  Ariana stared at a spot over his shoulder. She’d known at the time that he hadn’t noticed her, even as she’d felt the first shimmer of a connection. It hadn’t been anywhere near as strong as at the church. But it had definitely been there.

  She shouldn’t take it personally that he didn’t remember her. She’d seen how he’d reacted to the news of Caitlyn’s marriage to Marco. It had devastated Lazz, a fact he’d driven home by physically attacking his brother. She wouldn’t have been a female worthy of the name if she hadn’t understood that both twins had been in love with the same woman.

  “Ariana?”

  “It was at D
antes. In Marco’s conference room.” She forced herself to look at him, allowing her gaze to reflect the full depth of her knowledge. “The morning after Caitlyn’s marriage to Marco.”

  It was as though an impenetrable barrier slammed into place. “You were there?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound carried a hint of sorrow. “I believe that explains why you don’t remember me. Did you love her very much? Are you still in love with her?”

  “She’s my sister-in-law.”

  “That doesn’t answer my questions.”

  “As my wife—as my temporary wife—that subject doesn’t concern us. It has nothing to do with our marriage, the contract that brought us together or the conditions we both agreed to before marrying.”

  So cool. So logical. And yet, she sensed that emotion smoldered just beneath the surface, like dry tinder longing for a hot spark to set it ablaze. “What about our agreement not to keep secrets?”

  “Consider the subject of Caitlyn to be the equivalent of your privacy room.”

  “Ah.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shrugged. “It just means that I understand.” Then she added a gentle, “And sympathize.”

  “I didn’t ask—” He broke off, staring toward a cluster of his relatives. “What’s going on over there?”

  Ariana turned to look. “That’s Nicolò and…Kiley? Do I have her name right?”

  “Yes. Aw, hell. They’re all crying. We need to get over there. Something’s wrong.”

  A chuckle escaped Ariana. “Nothing’s wrong. Not unless having a baby is wrong.”

  “A baby!”

  “See how Nonna is touching Kiley’s belly? That’s universal woman-speak. And now Francesca is…” Her laughter grew. “Oh, how sweet. Please, can we go over and congratulate both of them?”

  “Both. Both?”

  “Francesca and Kiley. I wonder how close their due dates are.”

  She caught Lazz’s hand in hers and urged him toward where the Dantes stood gathered. With everyone talking and laughing at once, it took a moment for them to be absorbed into the group. The minute Ariana reached her sisters-in-law, she gave each a hug in turn.

  “I didn’t mean to steal your thunder,” Kiley instantly said. “But Nonna took one look at me and burst into tears. And as soon as Francesca understood why, she started to cry. And well…”

  “Why would you apologize? You have made our special day all the more joyous. May I?” At Kiley’s nod, Ariana spread her hand over Kiley’s abdomen. “For good luck and God’s blessing. Have you been trying long?”

  “We weren’t trying at all.” A blush touched Kiley’s cheeks. “I was nearly run down by an SUV when I ran into the street to save Nicolò’s dog. Afterward, he and I…Well, one thing led to another and somewhere on our journey between the one thing and the other, we forgot a few vital steps, steps that ended up with me pregnant. Not that I’m complaining.”

  “You’re happy then?”

  Kiley reached for Nicolò’s hand and tears filled her eyes. “Ecstatic.”

  Ariana turned to give Francesca another hug of congratulations. “I don’t have to ask how you feel. You’re glowing.”

  Francesca chuckled. “I couldn’t be happier. Maybe that’s because I’m not suffering from morning sickness the way Kiley is.”

  “It will end soon,” Nonna offered.

  Primo caught his wife’s hand in his. “And do you see boys or girls in their future?”

  “Boys for these two.” Her gaze landed on Ariana, her eyes eerily similar to Lazz’s. Then her face lit up. “But you. You will have a daughter. The only Dante girl of your generation, I’m sad to say.”

  “Nonna—” Lazz began.

  Ariana shushed him before giving Nonna a swift hug. “You have the sight? My great-grandmother Romano did, as well. Everything she predicted always came true. This is her veil I’m wearing.”

  “Nonna predicted my pregnancy,” Francesca warned. “So, I’d start knitting little pink booties, if I were you.”

  “I’ll get right on it. But after the honeymoon if you don’t mind,” Ariana teased. To her surprise, even Lazz laughed.

  “I am glad you mentioned the honeymoon,” Primo said. “Penelope, Nonna and I all have a small surprise for the two of you. Lazz, I know you said there is no time for a honeymoon right now, but I have made arrangements for Caitlyn to fill in for you while you and Ariana go away.”

  Beside her, Lazz stiffened. “You shouldn’t have—” he began, before being waved silent by his grandfather.

  “These past six months have been long and difficult for you.” Fierce golden eyes gazed at his grandson with compassion. “You deserve a break.”

  “The Romanos are well acquainted with the royal families of Verdonia,” Penelope contributed. “So, we’ve arranged for you to stay there. Your flight leaves tomorrow.”

  “What a lovely gesture,” Ariana said. “Thank you so much. You’re all too generous.”

  Lazz added his thanks to her own, then kissed his grandparents, as well as Penelope. Only Vittorio didn’t contribute to the celebration. Ariana sensed his concern and did her best to alleviate it with a cheerful demeanor. So long as he found Brimstone before Lazz uncovered their deception, all would be fine. Otherwise…She shuddered. She didn’t want to consider the alternatives.

  The minute she and Lazz were alone again, she regarded him with a hint of uncertainty. “You don’t seem as upset as I expected you to be.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You surprise me.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “This gives us time to get to know each other. By the time we return, we’ll be more relaxed together.”

  “Like an old married couple?”

  “Something like that.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Now you’re the one who looks upset. You knew we were going to have to convince our grandparents that we’re happily married before gradually going our separate ways. This will help the process along.”

  “They’re going to find out eventually,” she murmured.

  “They’ll find out that the marriage didn’t work out. They won’t find out why we married in the first place.”

  “They’d be crushed if they knew.”

  “Knowing Primo, he’d dispose of Brimstone just to make that point.” Lazz inclined his head toward the head table. “Recess is over, I’m afraid. Time to resume our duties.”

  The rest of the reception passed with a breathtaking swiftness. Before she knew it, Lazz caught her hand and drew her from the ballroom onto a shadow-dipped balcony overlooking downtown San Francisco. When she shot him a questioning glance, he merely smiled.

  “They expect us to leave early. We’re supposed to be eager newlyweds, remember?”

  She shook her head in amusement. “How silly of me. Of course. We’d probably shock our guests if we insisted on dancing the night away. Still…” She crossed to the railing and gazed out at the glittering lights of the city. Fog stretched out stealthy fingers, reaching for the streets closest to the bay. “It was a lovely reception. Thank you for putting it together.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Please, don’t.” Her smile faltered for an instant before she had it safely back in place. “Please, don’t tell me you weren’t responsible. I’d like that much of an illusion, if you don’t mind.”

  “Actually, I was going to say that I didn’t expect it to turn out as well as it did,” he said gently. “And I was responsible, though I had help.”

  “From Caitlyn?”

  “Among others. Come on.” He dropped an arm around her shoulders. “Le Premier has reserved the honeymoon suite for us tonight.”

  “And tomorrow we fly off to Verdonia,” she said, hoping her nervousness didn’t show. “I guess that means we better get a decent night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s flight will be a long one.”

  “Then I suggest we turn in.” His face slid into shadow, while ambient light caught in the depths of h
is hazel eyes. “And when we get to our room, you can decide whether you’d care to break one of your marital conditions.”

  Three

  From: Bambolina@fornitore.it

  Date: 2008, August 05 18:41 CEST

  To: Lazzaro_Dante@DantesJewelry.com

  Subject: Re: Marriage Contract, Premarital Conditions…mine!

  Dear Lazzaro,

  I’m sure you will understand the need for my first counter-condition, especially since our marriage is not permanent.

  Counter-Condition #1: No sex.

  Short and sweet, yes?

  Ciao! Ariana

  P.S. I guess that means we’ll need separate bedrooms. Do you wish me to make that a separate counter-condition?

  Ariana didn’t say a word. Not as they left the balcony, nor during the endless elevator ride to their suite. She didn’t dare speak in the face of such overwhelming temptation.

  She hadn’t expected such a strong physical response to Lazz. Perhaps she should have, since she’d been drawn to him every single time she’d been in his presence, starting at the tender age of five. When she’d seen him in Marco’s conference room, some part of her had instinctively sensed the connection between them. She’d even told her father that Lazz was the one.

  The one she’d cried over at five.

  The one who called to her on some visceral level.

  The one who’d connected them with a single touch.

  “Looks like someone’s been here ahead of us,” Lazz commented as they entered the suite.

  Sure enough, flowers covered every available surface, including the huge canopied bed, although in the case of the bed they were deep velvety red petals, with a pair of long-stem roses decorating the pillows.

  “I don’t see luggage anywhere,” she said. “Should we ring for it?”

  A hint of a smile carved a path across Lazz’s mouth. “I’m guessing no one thought you would need luggage until tomorrow. Other than this…” He snagged a swath of virtually transparent ivory silk that had been spread across the down duvet topping their bed. He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you need help changing?”