Page 10 of Sev’s Blackmailed Bride (The Dante Dynasty #1)

“Thank you for offering me another chance,” she said with as much composure as she could manage. “You won’t regret it.”

“ A ll right,” Francesca stated the minute she joined Sev at Fruits de Mer. She took the seat across from him and folded her arms across her chest. “You blackmailed me into coming here. What do you want?”

Sev studied her silently for a long moment.

If he could peg her with a single word it would be defensive.

From the moment she’d stepped foot in the restaurant and spotted him, she’d had trouble meeting his gaze.

He could guess why. He’d seen this woman naked.

Had taken her in his arms and made love to her, not once or twice, but three times during their night together, each occasion more passionate than the last. It should have ensured an ease between them.

And maybe it would have, except for one vital detail .

Forty-eight hours ago they’d been total strangers.

And yet, nothing had changed. No. That wasn’t true.

If anything, the attraction between them had grown, become more palpable.

He could see the hunger and desire lurking in the depths of her gaze, unwanted as it was undeniable.

Her pulse throbbed in her throat and a heated flush touched her cheeks.

Most damning of all, her body reacted to his presence.

Aheated flush touched her cheeks and her pulse throbbed in her throat.

His gaze dipped downward briefly, not surprised to see the hard peak of her nipples against the thin silk of her blouse.

“You expected things to be different,” he said. “Didn’t you?”

She looked at him, the unremitting darkness of her eyes making a startling contrast to her pale complexion and honey-blond hair. “Today, you mean?” She gave him her full attention, apainful vulnerability lurking in her gaze. “Let’s just say I’d hoped things would be different.”

She’d changed toward him since their night together and he could guess the reason.

Now that she’d discovered his identity, she’d decided to end things between them, something he refused to allow.

“You hoped our reaction to each other would change now that you know who I am. Because you work for Timeless Heirlooms and I own Dantes, you thought that fact would put a stop to what we’re experiencing. ”

“Yes.” A slight frown creased her brow. With a swift glance toward nearby tables, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I need to explain something. Idon’t know who that woman was two nights ago. I’ve never—” She took a deep breath. “I’m not making excuses.”

“Of course not.” He understood all too well. “But that doesn’t alter the facts.”

She retreated from him, icing over tension and longing with such speed he suspected she’d had many years of practice. “As far as I’m concerned, whatever happened between us has run its course.”

He tilted his head to one side. “Because you say so? Because it would be so much more convenient on the work front?” He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re kidding, right? This isn’t something you can cut off like a light switch.”

“I think it is.”

He studied her for a moment to assess her veracity. Satisfied she actually believed the nonsense she trotted out, he placed his hands flat on the table. He slid them across the linen-covered surface, inch by inch. When his hands came to within a foot of hers, she released a soft groan.

“Okay,” she said, snatching her hands back. “Point made. Maybe this... this—”

“Attraction? Desire?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Lust?”

She waved the choices aside. “Those are just varying shades of the same thing.”

“And you’re still experiencing each of those shades, as well as every single one in between.”

He caught the faint breathy sound of air escaping her lungs. “Whatever this is hasn’t run its course at all, has it?” she asked.

“Not even a little.” He massaged the tingle in his right palm. “I could feel you, you know.”

Her brows shot up. “Feel me? What do you mean?”

“When you walked in the room, Ididn’t even have to see you,” he admitted. “I could feel you.”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand any of this,” she confessed. “How is that possible?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. “Is it the same for you? Has it eased off any since that night? ”

She wanted to lie, he could read it in the hint of desperation in those huge, defenseless eyes. “Maybe it has.” She moistened her lips. “I’m sure it’s not quite as bad as the other night. It can’t be.”

“There’s an easy way to tell.” He extended his hand across the table once again. “Go ahead. Touch me.”

Francesca hesitated for a telling moment before splaying her fingers and linking them with Sev’s.

She gasped at the contact, going rigid with shock.

The next instant everything about her softened and relaxed, sinking into what he could only describe as euphoria.

Then the next wave hit. Ahot tide of need lapped between them, singeing nerve endings and escalating desire.

“I want you again.” He told her precisely how much with a single scorching look. “If anything, Iwant you even more than last time.”

“We can’t do this. Not again,” Francesca protested. “I’ve already put my job in jeopardy by spending the night with you. If the Fontaines find out it was you at the show, that you were the reason I left, they’d fire me on the spot. Iwon’t risk that. Working at TH is too important to me.”

Didn’t she get it? “You want me to stop?” He lifted their joined hands. “Tell me how. Because I’d love to know. ”

She leaned forward, speaking in a low, rapid voice. “What I want is an explanation. Maybe if I understood how and why, Icould make it stop. Why do I feel such an odd sensation every time we join hands? Why does just a touch cause me to go all wonky inside?”

His mouth twitched toward a smile. “Wonky?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Hungry. Lusty. Horny as hell. God, Ican’t even believe I’m saying those things!”

He hesitated, loath to repeat the story Primo had told him.

But she deserved some sort of answer, even one as far-fetched as The Inferno.

He didn’t believe they were experiencing anything to do with something so fantastical.

Or that his grandfather’s Inferno fairy tale belonged just there, in fairy tales.

None of that mattered. Regardless of what he thought, she shouldknow.

He forced himself to release her hands, despite an almost uncontrollable urge to sweep her up in his arms and bolt from the restaurant with her. More than anything he wanted to hole up somewhere with acres of bed, twenty-four-hour room service, and a suitcase full of condoms.

“Look, Ithink I can explain this, though the explanation is going to sound a bit crazy.” Nor was this the venue he’d have chosen to tell a woman about The Inferno.

But at least a crowded restaurant would give the illusion of safety once she’d fully ascertained the extent of his family’s insanity.

He gave it to her straight. “There’s a Dante legend that my grandfather swears is true, about an Inferno that occurs when a man from my family touches the woman meant to be his. ”

Her eyes narrowed, but at least she didn’t run screaming from the restaurant. “Somehow I don’t think this is the sort of story we should hash out in public. Do you?”

“Not even a little. My place isn’t far from here. We can talk there, if you’d prefer.”

“Talk?” A swift laugh bubbled free and she regarded him with wry amusement. “That would make a nice change. Idon’t suppose you can promise that’s all we’re going to do?”

He shook his head. “I can’t promise a thing where you’re concerned.” He leaned back, giving her enough room to breathe. Hell, giving them both enough room to think straight. “But I swear, I’ll try. Will you trust me enough to come with me?”

She turned those bottomless dark eyes on him in silent assessment.

He’d never met a woman quite so fascinating.

She faced the world with elegance and strength and feminine dignity.

And though he sensed they were integral parts of her, he also suspected they were a shield she used to protect herself fromhurt.

Every so often he caught a glimpse of a waif peeking out, nose pressed to the glass, the want in her so huge and deep it amazed him that one person could contain it all.

And yet, he also saw the steely determination that carried her through a life that—if he correctly read all she struggled to conceal—had slammed her with hardship while offering little joy to compensate.

After giving his offer a moment’s thought, she nodded.

“I promised to meet you this one last time before we parted company, and I will. Besides, Ialways did like fairy tales even though they never come true.” A tragic smile played about her perfect bow mouth, tempting him beyond measure.

Then she surprised him by lifting a hand and signaling the waiter.

“But who knows. Maybe this one will be different.”