Page 27 of Dante (Members From Money Season 2. #153)

"I just bet I know who that is." He released her hand so she could answer the phone. Leaning back, he listened to the one-sided conversation, marveling at the softened look on his sister's face.

He found her curled up on the sofa against the window, fast asleep. His day had been quite frantic with back-to-back meetings that had kept him out of the office. A crisis at the Penn Street demolition site had taken most of the chunk of the day. He had called and asked her to stay behind.

"I'm sorry darling, but I have to sort this out. Don't leave."

Of course, he had heard from Lorilee that she had been rude to her. He had had to put the woman in her place.

Crossing the room, he sat on the edge of the sofa and carefully brushed the hair from her forehead. He also felt guilty. He had been the one to hasten things along, by making certain everyone in the company knew about their relationship and had left her alone to deal with the backlash.

Sitting there and staring at her, he felt emotions tumbling around inside him and melting the ice he had formed over his heart.

Shaking his head, he wondered how she had managed to get under his skin and find the heart of him.

It had taken such a short time to have the love blowing through him like a summer storm.

Now his life would never be the same again.

She stirred, her eyelids flickering open. A smile came and twisted his heart into knots. She looked so damn sexy, with that sleepy look about her. He just had to kiss her.

"Hi."

"Hi," she murmured. "You're back."

"Sorry I'm late. You were tired."

"And nauseous." She stretched languidly and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

Lifting her up, he placed her on his lap. "Any retching?"

She shook her head.

"I heard you had quite a day as well." Amusement laced his tone. "You threatened Lorilee's job?"

"Who? Oh." She fiddled with his sweater and refused to meet his eyes. "She was being a bitch." Her eyes flickered up to meet his. "And sounded quite like a jealous lover. Did you sleep with her?"

His thick brows arched. In the past, no woman had ever dared ask him anything that personal, he would not have tolerated it. But with her, with the woman who held his heart in her slender fingers, he would answer anything.

"You know better than that."

"That does not answer the question."

"And I'm not going to. You know you're the first and only. I never crossed the line before." He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "You've ruined my very fierce and formerly ruthless reputation."

"Should I apologize?" she asked him archly.

"One would be good." Tilting her head up, he pleased himself by laying his lips on hers and giving her a good long kiss that stirred them both up. Ending the kiss, he pressed his forehead on hers and took a deep fortifying breath as the madness waged war inside him.

"Lorilee is incredibly good at her job." He lifted his head to stare at her. "I poached her from a competitor because she knows how to weave a story and do damage control."

Using his thumb, he wiped the moisture from her bottom lip.

"I told her about the pregnancy," she said defiantly.

"So, she said." His expression was neutral and gave her nothing. All day she had been concerned about that and wondered how he would feel.

"I asked you to wait." She was searching his face but could not find anything.

"That you did." His eyes met hers. "Was that a punishment for going ahead?"

"I was pissed off at the woman and I wanted to rattle her." She shrugged. "Now, I'm beginning to think it's not such a good idea."

"She's discreet and loyal, because I pay her to be. She'll keep the knowledge to herself until I say otherwise."

Her eyes flashed as an image of the chic brunette flashed through her head. "Is that what you want? To hide the fact that I'm pregnant with another man's baby?"

Lifting her off his lap, he rose and went to press the button for the cabinet. "It's been a hell of a long day." Uncapping the bottle of scotch, he poured a finger into the glass. "Have you eaten?" He turned towards her.

"You have not answered my question." Folding her hands over her breast, she lifted her chin. "You can always make the announcement that it's over."

The only sign that he was angry was the tightening of his jaw. Leaning against the bar, he crossed his legs at the ankles and sipped his drink slowly.

"Either you're spoiling for a fight, or hormones are getting the better of you."

"Oh, I am indeed spoiling for a fight." Her eyes flashed as her own temper surfaced. "You damn well took over every aspect of my life. In a flash, you decided... oh, let's tell everyone about us and you mowed me down to do so. And then you left me to deal with the backlash."

"And I apologize for it. There was a bloody crisis, and I had to deal with it. I don't appreciate you speaking to me that way. And I'm not used to explaining myself to anyone."

She shoved up from the sofa, eyes blazing. "Get used to it. I never asked for any of this. You pushed this... you started everything and now it's out there. And I'm not some empty-headed bimbo that I'm going to sit back and meekly agree with everything that comes out of your mouth. I..."

Her hand flew to her mouth and the expression on her face had him straightening. Before he could move towards her, she was already racing in the direction of the bathroom with him behind her.

She had her head in the bowl, by the time he got to her. Kneeling behind her, he stroked her back as she retched.

"Go away," she murmured weakly when she was through.

"Not a chance." He continued to stroke her back. "Finished?"

"Yes." She leaned back against him and closed her eyes, stomach raw and bruised.

Lifting her up, he took her to the sink and filled a glass of water for her to rinse. She handed him the glass when she had gotten rid of the bitter taste inside her mouth.

Scooping her off the counter, he strode into the bedroom and put her upright on the pillows.

"I'll make some tea." He had stocked up on different blends as well as some plain broth in case she was sick.

He turned around as he reached the door and stared at her.

In that moment, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted the child she was carrying to be his.

And he was going to give him or her his name.

He hadn't been sure before... had been willing to accept the baby because it was a package deal, but now he knew that he wanted it.

"To answer your earlier question. I want everyone to know about everything. No regrets and no backing out. We're in this together for the rest of our lives. Don't you forget it."

She stared at the empty doorway and felt her heart turning over inside her chest.

She had insisted on having the dinner at her home, where she had not been for more than a week and after several arguments back and forth, had won, which was something, she thought resentfully.

Going up against Dante Livingston was like going up against a brick wall.

The man was as stubborn as a mule. And what was the sense of buying her a new car when she didn't get to drive it?

He insisted on her riding with him every morning.

And he waited on her even when he had a meeting.

The press release had gone out and the reporters were chomping at the bit with the story.

Of course, her past had been pulled out and compared with his.

One reporter was calling it 'a match made in heaven'.

They had also paraded all his former lovers or women he had been photographed with in the past, something she was not pleased about.

Michael had called her as soon as it hit the press and asked to speak with her in person. She had been putting him off, but he was insisting on speaking with her.

"The press is hounding me asking why I'm not involved with you and what prompted the break," he complained. "It's messing with my life Court, and I insist on meeting with you."

She had told him she would think about it.

Now here she was, inside her tiny living room with the two men in her life, facing each other across the dining table and looking like boxers in a boxing ring. She had gone all out and made her famous potato salad, pumpkin rice and chicken parmesan. And a salad.

"I love my sister very much."

"He knows that." She placed the bowl between them.

"You've been on your feet long enough." Dante snagged her hand to keep her in place.

"I'm almost done."

"You're done now. Your brother and I don't need to be entertained." He swung his golden gaze to the man across from him. "Do we?"

"On that we agree." Caleb drawled. "Sit honey. I'll get the dessert."

"I can..."

"No." Shoving back from the chair, Dante marched her to her seat and practically shoved her into it. "The deal we made was that you would not be doing so much cooking. That's why you should have had this dinner at our place."

Caleb stared at the man he had formerly seen in the papers and thought of as cold and unfeeling. His sister was right. There was a different side to him where she was concerned, and he was convinced that Livingston was going to make his sister very happy.