It took every ounce of self-possession to keep from jerking free of his hold. His touch felt wrong. Wrong on every conceivable level. No matter how hard she attempted to fight it, there was only one man for her. And he wasn’t the one kissing her.
Even so, she didn’t fight him or pull back, despite the muffled instinct urging her to do just that. For some reason it felt as though she’d left her brain on the terrace at Dantes, trapped within that dense summer fog. More than anything she wished she could curl up and go to sleep. Maybe a drive wasn’t the best option.
It wasn’t until he groped for the fastening of the halter top of her gown that she stirred. “No, David.” He pulled back, a protest blazing across his face. Before he could say anything, her cell phone rang, loud and strident within the confines of the car. It cut through the drag of exhaustion, giving her a moment of clarity. “I need to get that.”
“No, you don’t,” he argued. “For once in your life, ignore your family.”
“I’m a Dante, David,” she explained gently. “You know it doesn’t work that way. They’ll worry if I don’t answer.”
She took the call, but instead of one of her brothers as she expected, it was Constantine who spoke. “Where are you, piccola?” he asked.
“With David. We’re going for a drive.”
A brief silence, then, “Tell him to take you straight home.”
“Is that an order?”
“There’s something you should know about David, Gianna. It’s important. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t.”
She might have argued, but with David sitting there listening to every word, she decided to choose prudence for once in her life. “I’ll call you later when it’s more convenient.”
“I’m leaving Dantes in another few minutes. I’ll wait outside your place until I hear from you.”
She sighed. “It might be a bit. David and I…” She spared her date a brief glance, not the least surprised by the anger sparking in his gaze. Could he hear Constantine’s voice, tell it wasn’t one of her brothers who’d called? Or had he guessed what was happening based on her responses? “We need to talk.”
“Going to dump him?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Everything about you is my business,” he responded with devastating simplicity.
She flipped the phone closed and dropped it in her purse. “David—”
“Don’t.”
She fought through her exhaustion, attempting to find the kindest, gentlest words possible. “David, let’s be honest with each other. We’ve been dating for three months. If we shared something that could have become permanent, we’d have felt it by now.”
“We have felt it,” he argued. “You can’t deny you feel something for me. You’ve just allowed Romano to confuse you. Give me a chance, Gia. Give us a chance.”
It was truth time. She would never want this man. Not the way a woman should want the man who hoped to share her bed. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how she attempted to lose herself in David’s embrace, some part of her remained remote and untouched. That secret part of herself flinched from allowing any other man to hold her. Touch her. Kiss her. Only one man had that right. She closed her eyes, caving to the inevitable. There wouldn’t be a private weekend in New York. Or a romantic suite at the Ritz, not to mention an engagement.
Nor would she ever share David’s bed.
“I have given us a chance,” she told him as compassionately as she could manage. She fought back another yawn. The fog returned, relentless, rolling toward her at breakneck speed. “It’s not working.”
“I’ll make it work.” He turned a knob on the console which put the Jag in gear and fishtailed away from the curb. “Lean back and close your eyes, Gia. We’ll be there before you know it.”
She shook her head, but it didn’t help. The fog descended, consuming her, and she tumbled into its cold gray embrace. “What’s wrong with me?” she murmured.
“Put your seat back and go to sleep. When you wake it’ll all be over.”
What would be over? But it took too much effort to ask the question. And she slept.
Three
“She’s not at her house and she’s not answering her cell.” Constantine paced up and down the sidewalk for the umpteenth time. After twenty endless minutes, he knew every crack and stain by heart. “That can only mean one thing. D’Angelo has her. There’s no other possibility.”
Luc sighed. “He doesn’t have her. They’re simply out together. I hate to say this, Constantine, but they’ve been dating for a couple of months. She’s a grown woman. If she isn’t answering her cell it’s because she doesn’t want to talk to you. I’m sure she’ll be in touch in the morning.”