Page 17 of Sev’s Blackmailed Bride (The Dante Dynasty #1)

S ev deliberately kept his distance from Francesca over the next few days while she gave notice at TH and settled into her new home at Dantes, not wanting to throw any more fuel on a situation already on the verge of a messy explosion.

He’d done enough by insisting she return to his bed, as well as come to work at Dantes.

Though she’d accepted the latter with dignified anger, when it came to his former demand, she’d told him in no uncertain terms which dark corner of his body to put his suggestion and precisely how to achieve such an impossibility.

Though he regretted the means he’d used to force her compliance on the work front, at some point she’d face facts.

Timeless Heirlooms teetered on the edge of destruction, and not even Francesca’s brilliant designs would save it.

Not in the long run. He’d rather acquire TH while he and his brothers could still turn it around, rather than attempt to pick up pieces shattered beyond repair.

Quite simply, the Dantes were in a position to fix problems. The Fontaines weren’t.

Unfortunately, he doubted he’d ever be able to convince Francesca of that simplefact.

He’d respected her preferences and kept his distance, missing her from both his life and his bed.

But now Sev couldn’t stand it another minute.

Whatever existed between them, whether The Inferno or simple desire, the craving to have her close at hand threatened everything he’d worked the past decade to accomplish.

A nagging compulsion consumed him, as though an emergency signal lit up the connection between them. He couldn’t recall ever being this distracted. After the sixth time he stood with the subconscious urge to track her down, he finally gave in and acted on the impulse.

He found her in the studio he’d arranged for her use, ahuge, bright room with every possible amenity at her disposal, right down to a plush sitting area and tiny kitchenette.

Giving her door a brief knock, he entered.

And then he allowed his senses to consume him, the thumb of his left hand moving automatically to ply the palm of his right.

She sat at her desk, adrawing pad flipped open and a charcoal pencil in hand. He couldn’t say whether the sketch she applied herself to with such assiduous attention had anything to do with her job. But whatever she worked on, he suspected she’d lost all awareness of time and place.

Sunlight streamed from nearby windows and swirled within her hair, spinning the honey-blond strands to pure gold.

It also illuminated the creamy tone of her complexion, making her appear lit from within.

Even from this distance, he picked up traces of her unique perfume, the scent light and crisp and uniquelyhers.

The pressure that had been building over the past few days eased with his first glimpse of her, forcing him to concede just how tense he’d become without constant contact with her.

Every instinct begged him to go to her and carry her off.

To take her as far from Dantes and the Fontaines as possible.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Dante?” she asked without lookingup.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Mr. Dante?” He leaned against the door, forcing itshut.

“Don’t.”

Just that one word, but it contained a full measure of pain and disillusionment.

She looked at him then, sparing him nothing.

He knew he’d hurt her, but refused to consider how badly.

Until now. More than anything he wished he could go to her and find a way to ease her despair.

But not only wouldn’t she welcome it, he suspected she’d tear a strip off his hide if he came anywhere nearher.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like being here?” she continued. “The untenable position you’ve put me in?”

He cocked his head to one side. Okay... Maybe more was going on than his forcing her to work for him. Something had exacerbated the situation. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

She threw down her pencil and glared at him. “Why did you give me this office?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Because it’s the best one available.”

“Great. Just great. Would you care to know the first question my coworkers asked me?” She didn’t wait for his response.

“Not my name. Not general questions about my background. Not where I attended school or who I studied with or where I last worked. They wanted to know who I’d slept with to get this studio. ”

Sev winced. “Hell.”

“Oh, it gets better.”

She swept a hand toward the pretty little sitting area tucked beneath the windows.

“Guess what’s now called the ‘casting couch’?

Of course, my coworkers treat it like a big joke, but I can see the speculation.

They’re wondering who I am and why I rate such consideration.

As far as they’re concerned, I’m brand-new to the industry.

An apprentice in their eyes. But somehow, I’ve leapfrogged over them and they don’t like it one little bit.

In a single thoughtless move, you’ve made it impossible for me to associate effectively with the other Dante employees. ”

Damn. “I didn’t realize.”

“Fine. You didn’t realize. But now that you do, you have to fix it.”

He could guess where this was going. “What do you suggest?”

“Transfer me to one of the other Dante locations. New York. London. Paris. The way things are right now, I’d even take Timbuktu. Just send me someplace else where they don’t know me. Where...” She snatched a shaky breath. “Where I don’t have to anticipate seeing you around every corner.”

Not see her for months on end? He couldn’t do it. The mere suggestion threatened what little sanity he had remaining. “Forget it. Not for at least two years.”

“Two years?” He hated the cynical light that pitched her eyes to a black both deep and diamond-hard. “Unless The Inferno burns down to ashes before then, right?”

Sev ignored the question. It hit uncomfortably close to home and he hated the thought that his actions could have so base a motivation. “Other than transfer you, what else can I do? Name it and if it’s in my power I’ll give it to you.”

She laughed, the sound so filled with sorrow that he flinched.

“You can give me my old life back. You can let me work for the Fontaines again. Live my life the way I choose. Iwant to work with—” Her voice broke.

“With my father. Even if he didn’t know about our relationship, at least I could see him every day. At least he didn’t hate me.”

Sev froze. “Hate you?”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you really so blind? Didn’t it occur to you what would happen when I refused to sign with Kurt and Tina?

What would happen when I turned my back on them after all they’ve done for me?

How they’d react when I jumped to Dantes instead of honoring my promise to sign the contract they were on the verge of offering?

Ibetrayed them, Sev. Ibetrayed them in the cruelest manner possible and they despise me for what I’ve done to them. ”

Dammit to hell. He should have anticipated this. His distraction had cost them both. “I’ll talk to them.”

“And tell them what?” She thrust back her chair and stood, the movement lacking her usual grace. “Don’t you get it? I’ll be the proximate cause for the Fontaines losing Timeless Heirlooms. I’m the one they’ll blame when you take over. Talking to them isn’t going to do a bit of good.”

He hadn’t considered that aspect of the situation for a very simple, yet vital reason.

He’d been so focused on his family’s business and restoring all he’d been forced to dismantle, that he hadn’t fully explored how his decision would impact Francesca.

And he could guess why. He didn’t dare look too closely or he’d never be able to make the tough calls.

Examining the problem from Francesca’s side of the fence would also force him to take a long, hard look at his past choices, something he refused to contemplate.

He’d ruined so many lives when he’d sold off the bits and pieces of Dantes.

Until then they’d been a premier business, marketing the most exclusive and magnificent jewelry, worldwide.

When his father died, he’d been forced into the top position fresh out of college, with little preparation.

And even though Primo had come out of retirement during those first difficult days, his grandfather’s heart attack, just three short months after the death of his eldest son and daughter-in-law, had put a swift end to his involvement.

From that point on, Sev shouldered the full burden.

He, and he alone, had made the tough choices, choices vital to Dantes’ survival.

He’d been merciless all those years ago.

There’d been no other option. One by one, he’d shut down Dantes’ subsidiaries, cutting a swath of destruction throughout the company with ruthless disregard for the lives his decisions destroyed.

It had been the only way to save the core business.

And now here was one more tough choice to add to the lengthy list he’d accepted as part of his “chain of shame.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing the sentiment to be both inadequate and unwanted.

She turned her back on him. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Ineed to return to work.”

An idea came to him, an idea so outrageous it might have been one of Nicolò’s crazier schemes.

He didn’t give himself time to consider all the ramifications.

To pull this off, he needed to act, and act fast. “Actually, there is something else. It’s the reason I came here, as a matter of fact.

There’s a charity auction this Saturday night.

Dantes has donated a few wedding rings to help raise money for the Susan G.

Koman Breast Cancer Foundation. Ineed an escort. ”

Instantly she shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“It isn’t a request.”