Page 21 of Sev’s Blackmailed Bride (The Dante Dynasty #1)

A liquid warmth swept through her again at the teeny-tiny accent that crept through his words. No doubt the setting contributed to it, and the fact that he constantly switched back and forth between English and Italian.

“Ho-ho. What a liar you are,” Nonna corrected in Italian. “It is not the arguing you love. It is the making up afterward.”

“Well...” Francesca offered judiciously. “He does excel at both.”

Silence descended over the table. “Parlate italiano?” Nonna demanded in astonishment. “And why did you not tell us this?”

Francesca grinned. “How would I know what you were all saying about me if I admitted I spoke Italian?”

Delighted laughter rang out as they all bombarded her with questions in rapid-fire succession.

Primo rapped his knuckles in an effort to regain control.

Instantly, silence descended. “I will ask the questions at my own table, if you do not mind,” he informed his grandsons.

Eyes identical to Sev’s fixed her with uncomfortable shrewdness.

“You have Italian relatives? This is why you learned Italian?” he asked.

She shook her head. “As far as I’m aware I’m not of Italian descent.” A shadow of regret came and went. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about my ancestors, so anything’s possible, Isuppose. ”

She caught a hint of compassion in Primo’s expression, though he didn’t allow it to color his voice. “Then why?” he asked. “Why did you learn Italian?”

“Because it’s always been my dream to work at Dantes,” she admitted. “It made sense to learn the language.” A subtle shift in attitude occurred after her confession, one that left her somewhat puzzled.

“Figured it out yet?” Sev asked softly.

Her gaze jerked up to meet his. “Figured what out?”

“You’ll get there.” He gave her a small wedge of panforte , atraditional Tuscan dessert filled with nuts, fruit and a hint of chocolate, serving her a cup of strong coffee to accompanyit.

“Do you mean...?” She glanced around the table, reassured to see that a heated discussion about the best time to expand Dantes raged on, preoccupying the rest of Sev’s family. “Do you mean have I worked out the change in your family? The change in their attitude toward me?”

“Almost there,” he murmured.

She shrugged. “That’s easy enough. It’s because they found out I speak Italian. Iblend in better.”

“Not even close. ”

Startled, she gave him her full attention. “What? They love me now because I told them I’ve always wanted to work at Dantes? So what? Lots of people would kill to work for you.”

“Nope. Come on, honey. You know. You just refuse to accept the significance of it.”

He saw too clearly and it left her far too vulnerable. She returned her fork to her plate, before confessing, “It’s because I learned Italian in the hope I’d someday work for Dantes. That I took that extra step.”

A slow smile built across his mouth. “I knew you’d get it.”

She scanned the table again, realizing that with that simple, painfully honest statement she’d become one of the family, her acceptance into their inner circle absolute. Most important of all, she’d done it by being herself. Even so, the knowledge filled her with guilt. “But it’s a lie.”

He helped himself to a second slice of panforte . “You didn’t learn Italian because you wanted to work for me?”

“Not you,” she stressed. “Dantes. And not that.” She shoved her left hand under his nose. “This. This is a—”

He leaned over and stopped her with a kiss. “We’ll discuss that later,” he murmured against her mouth. “In the meantime, don’t worry. These things have a way of sorting themselves out.”

They lingered over their coffee for another hour before Sev stood and told his family they needed to leave. Hugs were liberally dispensed before they made it out the door. The instant they slid into the car, she returned to the concern uppermost on hermind.

“Can’t we tell your family the truth? Ireally like them, and I’d rather not lie to them.”

“We’re not lying to them. We are engaged.”

“You know what I mean.” Impatience edged her voice. “They think we’re getting married.”

“That might prove a problem at some point,” he conceded. “But not today.”

They both fell silent until he pulled up outside her apartment complex. After curbing the wheels to keep them from rolling downhill, he threw the car in Park and shut off the engine. Agentle rain tapped against the windshield and blocked out everything but a watery blur of city lights.

“Have you really always wanted to work at Dantes?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you’ve achieved your dream. Is a temporary engagement to me so high a price to pay for that dream? ”

“No.” She touched her engagement ring in an increasingly familiar gesture. “But what I’ve done to the Fontaines is far too high a price for any dream.”

“You need to trust me. It’s all going to work out. It may not be a perfect solution. Compromise will be involved. But it’s going to work out.”

“Because you say so?”

“Because I intend to make it so.”

He cupped her face and drew her close. At the first brush of his mouth against hers, every thought evaporated from her head.

The Fontaines. The Dante clan. Work pressures.

They all slipped away beneath the heat of his taking.

He played with her mouth, offering light, teasing kisses.

But it only took her tiny moan of pleasure for it to transform into something more.

Something deep and sensual and unbearably desperate.

Passion exploded, fogging the windows and ripping apart both intent and intention.

It needed to stop before stopping became an impossibility.

“You don’t play fair,” she protested, struggling to draw breath.

“It doesn’t pay to play fair.” He eyed her in open amusement. “What it does is give me what I want most. ”

“And what’s that?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“You.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Invite me in and put us both out of our misery.”

Did he think it would be that easy to recover the ground they’d lost?

She swallowed a groan. Maybe if their embrace had continued for another few minutes, though she’d never admit as much to Sev.

But it hadn’t, and she still found enough self-possession— somewhere, if she looked around hard enough—to stand firm in her resolve not to tumble back into hisbed.

“No, I’m not inviting you in.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “I don’t play fair, either. As far as I’m concerned, you can sit here and suffer for your sins.”

“But not for much longer,” hesaid.

Or was it a warning?