Luc's Unwilling Wife (The Dante Inferno: The Dante Dynasty Series Book 5) Page 4

  Then the strangest thing happened. Téa felt the powerful current from their first meeting complete its circuit. Felt the undeniable melding of man to woman. Knew on some level this moment had changed her on some irrevocable, fundamental level. Part of her shrank from the knowledge, while another part rejoiced.

  She wrapped Luc up in a tight embrace, arms and legs entwined. Each thrust came more forcefully, branding her, possessing her. She rode with him while the wildness stirred. It whipped through her, tearing her apart into shiny fragments of desperate desire. She heard him call to her on the whirlwind, centering her. And with each passing moment, each driving movement, they roared toward the center of the storm.

  It was an exploding. A shattering. A freefall into the most delicious waves of pleasure she’d ever experienced. Together they soared and plummeted. Rode the wild wind. Together they clung one to the other, joined.

  Melded.

  Mated.

  One.

  Téa had no idea how long she lay there, lost in the aftermath of passion. Somewhere along the line every scrap of intelligent thought had fled, leaving behind utter confusion. But it was a delightful confusion, one that left her body glowing with pleasure and her practically purring in satisfaction.

  The oddest part was her inability to get her brain back online. Every time she tried, her thoughts would slip and slide in Luc’s direction and all she could think about was how he’d taken her. Possessed her. Thrust her into a realm of sensation that had stripped her down to the bare essence of herself and then imprinted what remained with his personal brand. It was as though they’d mixed and mingled to the point where they could never truly separate out their own unique bits and pieces.

  “Dear God,” Luc rumbled beside her. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.”

  “At least you can talk,” she managed to say.

  “Okay. I’ll talk. You move.”

  “Can’t.”

  “’Kay. Come here.” He wrapped a heavy arm around her waist and scooped her closer. “Aw, hell. It’s still there.”

  She didn’t have to ask what. She could feel it. He spooned the hard sweep of his angles against her soft curves. The press of his body cleaving to hers caused the embers to spark to life in renewed need. Every inch of her skin burned with it. Heat blazed along the contact points and she trembled beneath the onslaught.

  “Yeah, it’s still there.” She shuddered in reaction. “Was it supposed to go away?”

  “Thought so.”

  Or did he hope so? The thought flitted in and out of her head as she turned to face him. He opened his eyes, slumberous, yet still hungry. With a soft growl, his mouth came down on hers again, blotting out thought and reason and words. Her arms slid around him just as his slid around her and their legs intertwined once again. They kissed, soft and gentle, then more urgently. An irrepressible need replaced exhaustion, one neither could deny.

  Téa wriggled against him. “Luc, please. I want—”

  She couldn’t even express what she wanted. Just him. More of him. He didn’t need the words. He knew. Knew, and responded with a passion that shredded her world into bright glittering starbursts of pleasure. It was as though all the silver and gold from her company somehow melded with the unique fire diamonds from his and encircled them like a ring, creating a bond neither of them were prepared for, nor wanted.

  A bond from which they couldn’t easily escape.

  Chapter Three

  Téa awoke with a start and unlike last time, her brain came screaming online, flooding her with frantic messages and warnings. “Oh. My. God.”

  Luc surfaced from beneath her, rumpled and gorgeous and sexier than any man had a right to be. “Is that a please-do-it-again-even-if-it-kills-us version of Oh. My. God? Or have we switched over to what-have-I-done-get-me-the-hell-out-of-here?”

  “Um.” She carefully untangled male parts from female and put a few precious inches of breathing space between them. It didn’t help. Heat and want still pulsated across the breach, threatening to suck her back in. “The get-me-the-hell-out-of-here one.”

  “Thought so.”

  With a groan, he levered himself off the bed and limped nude in what she assumed was the direction of the bathroom. Her small gasp stopped him dead in his tracks.

  “Oh, Luc. Your hip.” Hugging the sheet to her, she crouched in the center of the bed, her gaze riveted on his side. “And your knee! Dear heaven, what did you do?”

  His mouth twisted. “I rescued a damsel in distress. Foolish of me, I know.”

  It took her an instant to understand. “This is my fault?” Her misery increased as she took in the huge vibrant bruise that covered his entire hip and edged down his thigh toward his knee. “Why didn’t you say something? You must be in pain. Maybe you should see a doctor. Have it X-rayed.”

  “It’s not broken or I wouldn’t be walking. I planned to take something for it.” A swift, ravening grin came and went. “But I got distracted.”

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were that badly hurt.”

  “Trust me, this isn’t bad.”

  She recalled the photos taken of him during his military service and suspected he spoke the unvarnished truth. “And your knee?” She started off the bed, but the change in his expression glued her in place. In an instant he transformed from lover to warrior. To someone she didn’t recognize. Someone tough and dangerous, who’d seen and done things she couldn’t even imagine.

  “Old injury. It has nothing to do with you or what happened earlier.”

  “But today must have made your knee worse,” she said softly.

  “It didn’t help,” he conceded. “My choice, though. And I chose to keep you from becoming cab fodder.”

  “Thank you.” She grimaced as she considered how blasé she’d been about it at lunch. More than blasé. As she recalled, she’d blamed him for the incident. “Seriously, thank you. When I think of how I behaved at lunch—” She broke off with a shake of her head.

  “You weren’t very grateful.”

  Ouch. No doubt she deserved that. “I didn’t realize. I was distracted.” She straightened her shoulders. “Not that that’s any excuse. I can’t thank you enough for what you did and I’m sorry I made it necessary.”

  She caught the flash of amusement and realized he was deliberately provoking her as payback for her earlier behavior. And she’d fallen for it.

  “No problem,” he said. “Next time I’ll let the cab have you.”

  She simply laughed. “No, you won’t.” If she’d learned nothing else about him in these past few hours, it was that. The words “knight in shining armor” were probably engraved on his soul.

  He shook his head with a sigh. “I think it’s more a matter of, no, I can’t.”

  He didn’t linger, but disappeared through the doorway. The sound of running water confirmed her guess about it being the bathroom. It also gave her an opportunity to escape the bed and gather up her clothing. She winced as she examined the garments. Well, the good news was that most of them could be worn again. Unfortunately, some of the more fragile bits and pieces of silk were beyond use or repair.

  Tiptoeing and not quite sure why she bothered, she disappeared into the depths of his apartment, relieved to discover there was a second full bath adjoining his spare bedroom. She took possession of the shower and the various toiletries lined up on the counter. Definitely a woman’s touch and she couldn’t help but wonder who had left her mark and whether or not she was still in Luc’s life. After toweling off, Téa pulled on the salvageable pieces of her clothing and escaped the bathroom. She could hear Luc rummaging through the bureau drawers in his bedroom and paused.

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth and briefly debated. She could either sneak out of the apartment like a thief in the night. Or she could face him and deal with the situation. Since there was a real chance they would be stuck together for the next six weeks, addressing what had just happened, and doing it now, seemed th
e wisest course of action. Plus, she’d never been one to run from a problem. She’d learned long ago to take responsibility for her mistakes. Learned it in the worst possible manner. This one today with Luc had been a huge one.

  With a sigh, she made her way to the living room. A quick glance toward the windows revealed the day pausing in those breathless few moments between dusk and true night. Lights from various boats dotted the bay, sweeping straight across the water to Marin County. Off to the left, the Golden Gate Bridge glittered, the suspension cables looking like glowing strands of pearls connecting the city to the northern peninsula. Directly in front of her hovered Alcatraz Island, perched like some mythical land while wisps of fog gathered in a protective mantle about its shores.

  Where had the time gone? She shook her head in exasperation. Idiot. She knew full well where it had gone. She’d lost the hours in Luc’s bed. No doubt if she went in there and rummaged between the sheets, she’d find all those minutes just sitting there laughing at her.

  Luc chose that moment to join her. The fullness of his personality exploded into the room, overwhelming it. “You hungry or should we move straight on to getting drunk and pretending none of this happened?”

  She couldn’t quite tell if he was serious or not, and suspected a combination of both. She swung around to face him. “I really should go. But before I do, I thought we should discuss things.”

  “Discuss things,” he repeated. He gave her an aggrieved look, one men had patented back in caveman days. Clearly the last thing he wanted was a discussion. “That definitely calls for a drink. You sure you don’t want something?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He crossed to a wet bar and pulled out ice and a cut glass tumbler. Tossing in a handful of cubes, causing the crystal to sing, and splashed a healthy finger of whiskey over the cubes. He swirled the liquor in the glass for a moment and then downed it in a single swallow before facing her. She noticed when he pivoted he was careful to plant and twist with his left leg so he wouldn’t cause any unnecessary trauma to the injury on his right.

  He gestured with his glass, causing the ice cubes to chatter. “Okay. Start discussing. I assume this is the part where you say this can never happen again. That we have to work together for the next six weeks and it would be more professional if we kept things on a business footing. We’ll just pretend what happened, didn’t. Does that about sum things up?”

  He hit too close to home. More than anything she wanted to claim he was wrong. That she was hoping for a torrid affair for the next six weeks and would be quite happy to spend every night in his bed, exploring every possible position and variation of their activities over the past few hours.

  “I think I’d like a drink, after all,” she announced.

  “Smart choice.”

  “Do you have any wine?”

  “Red, white or somewhere in between?”

  “Red.”

  He poured her a glass of something dry and deliciously biting carrying the label from a Sonoma vineyard. She sipped it while considering her options and organizing her points. While he waited, he poured himself a second drink, but didn’t down this one. Instead he swirled the combination of liquor and cubes. It took every ounce of effort to yank her gaze from his hand and those long, clever fingers, fingers which had done shocking and delicious things to every part of her body.

  She cleared her throat, suddenly aware she’d somehow sipped her way through most of the glass of wine. “Here’s the problem,” she announced. “The reason we’ve been forced to work together is because I’m so distracted trying to juggle the pressures of my job and family life. We can’t afford to have both of us distracted by this . . .” She lifted an eyebrow. “What did you call it? An inferno?”

  “The Inferno,” he corrected. “With a capital ‘T,’ capital ‘I’ and a whole lot of fire and brimstone in between.”

  She smiled at the name. Clever. “You said earlier that The Inferno, capital ‘T,’ capital ‘I,’ fire and brimstone, etcetera, is a family legend?”

  “Yes,” he replied, making it clear by tone and attitude he didn’t want to discuss it. “Or at least, that’s the claim. Never having experienced it before—”

  “Until today,” she inserted smoothly.

  It was like prodding a panther. Those incredible gold eyes narrowed in warning and if he could have snarled, he would have. As it was, he came close. “Hell, Téa. If it makes everything tidier to call a bad case of lust by a more acceptable name like The Inferno, go right ahead. It sure as hell makes it more acceptable to me.”

  “Lust.” She chewed on the word for a moment and decided she didn’t care for the flavor. “I thought you said your cousins all married because of The Inferno.”

  “They did.” He threw a lot of emphasis on the word “they.” Underscore. Italics. Highlight. Red flashing lights. The works.

  She gestured with her glass. “I gather you don’t intend to.”

  “I’m not very good husband material. Too much commitment for my taste.” The panther sheathed its claws and he flashed her a smile that practically had her clothing melting off her body. If they could have stripped themselves, they’d be puddled on the floor at her feet. “But I do make a terrific lover.”

  It was the unvarnished truth, spoken simply and without pretension or bravado. And one she readily conceded. Considering she’d been the most recent recipient, there was no point in denying facts. Unfortunately, there was also no denying the fact she would have loved to have him prove his words all over again. It took a moment, but she managed to pull herself together again, though she did spare a quick downward glance to make certain all her buttons were still safely in their holes.

  Reassured, she couldn’t resist provoking him one final time. “Just out of curiosity, how do you plan to avoid The Inferno when none of your other relatives have?”

  She could see he’d never even considered the question before. She could also see he didn’t care for her asking it, or for the fact he didn’t have a ready answer. To her amusement, it only took a moment for him to come up with one.

  “I’m thirty years old and I’ve had extensive military training, as well as the skills I picked up running my own security business. We’ll either satisfy whatever urges we’re experiencing and move on, or . . .” He shrugged. “It’s a simple matter of intellect over inclination.”

  She couldn’t decide whether to be amused or insulted. “I believe that brings us back to our main problem. I have to confess, I can’t decide which will be more distracting, indulging in an affair with you or trying not to indulge in an affair with you.”

  “Just out of curiosity. Do I get a vote?”

  “Just out of curiosity. Which way would you vote?”

  He approached, graceful despite the limp. He took the wine glass from her hand and set it on a nearby table along with his whiskey. Then he caught hold of her and pulled her into his arms.

  “I vote to end things right now,” he told her. And then he kissed her.

  Want blew him apart. Heaven help him, she tasted every bit as delicious as before. Soft and sweet and yet potently female. He liked the way she attacked his mouth, like a succulent piece of fruit she couldn’t quite get enough of. And then she would sink into him, savoring him the way he’d seen some women savor a piece of rich, dark chocolate.

  Everything about her appealed, from the light, crisp scent of her to the subtle silken curves that had so recently graced his bed, to the wit and intelligence that gave strength to her face and brilliance to the unusual teal shade of her eyes. He almost lost control again, almost swept her up into his arms and carried her back to his bedroom. Maybe he would have if the echo of his last words to her didn’t still linger in the air. With a final hungry kiss, he put her from him.

  It took her an instant to recover her equilibrium. She stared at him in fuzzy bemusement before snapping back into focus with a soft cry of outrage. “What?” Anger sparked to life, flaming in her gaze and giving her cheek
s a rosy bloom. “Why did you kiss me after what you said?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance again.”

  He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply. Didn’t dare. It didn’t pay to give women like Téa too much room to fully exercise their vocabulary. Not when they wielded each word with the precision of a marksman and could slice and dice a man with the skill of a master chef.

  “I have some associates who can help with our problem. They can take over as your temporary bodyguard.”

  He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d slapped her. “And us? What about The Inferno?”

  “As I mentioned, I have four cousins who described the sort of instant lust we experienced and every last one of them ended up married. That’s not going to happen to me. I don’t do commitment. And I sure as hell don’t do marriage.”

  “Neither do I,” she retorted. “I have more important priorities.”

  “Excellent. Then we end this before it has a chance to get out of hand. Agreed?”

  She opened her mouth to reply, when a muffled voice began to call, “Answer me. Answer me. Answer me, me, me!” Her eyes widened in horror and without a word she darted to the foyer and dove into his closet. She emerged a bit more tousled, but with her briefcase and shoulder bag in hand.

  She took up residence on his couch and pulled out her cell phones, lining them up with military precision on his coffee table. The ring tone on the first phone—the case a shiny black one covered in neon pink kisses—switched to “Here Comes the Bride.”

  Téa accepted the call. “Hel— Yes, Jules. Yes, I know. I was in a meeting and couldn’t be interrupted.” She actually blushed at the lie, then listened for a moment. “Did you check out Divinity for your wedding gown? It won’t? Why—” She listened silently for several more seconds. “No, no. I understand. It’s just that I arranged for the owner . . . Okay. If it won’t work, it won’t. I’ll get back to you with an alternative. I’ve got to speak to Vida now. No, she’s not more urgent than you. But there’s nothing else I can do about your wedding gown until tomorrow. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”