Bestselling Authors Collection 2012(74)

“Because I want you,” he admitted, as though that were explanation enough.

And maybe it was, for him. She’d always been aware that he possessed an overdeveloped sense of entitlement. More than once she’d heard him excuse the occasional excessive indulgence with the excuse, “But I deserve…” Whether a suite at the Ritz-Carlton or a third Rolex or a fully loaded Jaguar, David always felt entitled to the best. Apparently he’d now decided that he “deserved” her. Anger ripped through her, combating the drugs, as well as her fear. Well, not if she could help it.

“It doesn’t bother you that drugging and kidnapping me was the only way you could achieve your ends?” she asked. Maybe if she kept him talking, it would give her time to think…and plan a way out of this.

“Drugging you wasn’t the only way, just the most expeditious.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to frown in her direction. It occurred to her that if she had any hope of escaping her present predicament, she’d be wise to pretend the drugs had a stronger hold on her than they did. Otherwise, he might decide to administer a little more and she’d never get away. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh and allowed her head to roll to one side.

“So sleepy,” she murmured.

He trailed the back of his hand along the curve of her cheek and it took every ounce of self-control to keep from flinching. “Trust me. By morning you’ll wonder why you held me off for so long. And by tomorrow afternoon…”

“By tomorrow afternoon…?” She deliberately yawned out the question.

“We’ll be engaged.”

She lifted a hand to her forehead. “I… I don’t understand.”

“Once I explain what happened to your grandfather, abashed and contrite that we allowed passion to overcome Dante propriety, your family will demand I do the honorable thing and marry you. In fact, I’ll insist it’s the only reasonable solution.”

She stiffened in outrage. What the hell did he know about honor? She almost asked the question, keeping her mouth shut at the last instant. Being a chiacchierona as her family affectionately called her—a chatterbox—wouldn’t help in her current situation. Restraint and discretion would.

“I seem to remember hearing that Luc and Téa found themselves in a similar predicament—caught in the act—and Primo insisted they marry immediately,” David continued with a pensive air. “I’m sure he’ll be even more insistent with his only granddaughter, if only to uphold the family honor.”

“And if I tell my grandfather you drugged me?” She fought to keep the sharpness from her voice and ask the question in a vague, confused manner.

He chuckled. “You won’t remember that, any more than you’ll remember this conversation.”

He pulled into a gas station, the only spot of brightness along the remote stretch of road. Darkness poured from the interior of the cement block storefront. No help there. Nor from the closed and padlocked service bay doors. But the pumps were lit and available for credit card purchases. Maybe someone else would stop for gas. Someone who could help her.

He turned in the leather seat to face her. “Before you fall back asleep, I have one final question for you.”

“Can’t. Too tired.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolded, giving her a little shake. “You can sleep after you answer my question.”

She made a feeble gesture for him to continue before allowing her hand to flop back onto her lap. “What?” She deliberately slurred the word.

“Where’s Brimstone?”

She blinked, staring at him blankly, unable to make sense of the words. And not because of the drugs. “What?”

“The Dante fire diamond, Brimstone. Where is it?” he asked urgently. “My sources tell me it disappeared. What happened to it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He swore in Italian. “Don’t give me that. It’s practically a Dante legend. My father told me all about it and he got it straight from Vittorio Romano.”

Vittorio. Constantine’s father. “I… I don’t know anything about it.”

“It was supposed to go to the Romanos after your cousin and Ariana married. But it never did.” He paused, speaking more to himself than to her. “Unless that bastard, Constantine, financed Romano Restoration with it. I can’t imagine any other way he could have done it in so short a time. Not with my father blocking his every attempt to get a loan.”

She forced out a yawn. “I’m so tired… I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”