Dante's Wedding Deception (3 page)

She shot to her feet. “You are hands-down certifiable.”

“Then how do you explain that little pop of electricity?”

“How the hell should I know? Maybe your brain short-circuited.” She hugged the documents to her chest. Giving him a wide berth, she skirted the coffee table and crossed to the door of her suite. “I think you should leave.”

Nicolò followed her to the door. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until we have this out. Because, we’re not done here. We’re not even close to done.”

“Yes, we are. First thing in the morning I intend to contact my lawyer. Until then, get the hell out of my room.”

He leaned in close, so close he could feel the tiny charges of electricity skipping off her and latching onto him. Pulling and tugging him toward that ultimate commitment, attempting to sear him with that final fateful touch. “This isn’t over, you know,” he told her.

Her breathing grew jagged and he could see his want reflected in her eyes, a mate to his own, just as he could sense their heartbeats thundering as one. He almost sealed her mouth with his, the temptation nearly overwhelming. It took every ounce of self-control to pull back at the last second. Without another word, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The door slammed closed behind him.

Nicolò stood there for a moment. He could still feel her, right through the damn door. She was leaning against it, fighting the same attraction he fought, telling herself, just as he did, that what she felt was insane. Impossible. And to be avoided at all costs. He shook his head in disgust. Right there with you, Gorgeous.

Nicolò headed for the bank of elevators and took a car to the main floor. Once there, he hesitated. The lobby offered a spacious sitting area, with groups of chairs arranged in cozy settings. Large, carefully tended ferns, bushes and even a few ornamental trees created oases of privacy.

He eyed a set of chairs that were discreetly screened, while still offering a prime view of the elevators. Instinct kicked in again, growing too loud to ignore. In his thirty years of existence, he’d learned not to question that gut-deep demand. It always signaled something his subconscious had picked up on that his conscious mind hadn’t caught up with quite yet.

Giving in, he took a seat and waited. It didn’t take long.

No more than five minutes later Kiley came barreling out of one of the elevators with that brisk, hip-swinging stride he now realized was her natural way of walking. She wore her hair up and had thrown on a black jacket to match her slacks. Very businesslike. She made a beeline for the concierge, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for him to answer her question.

Nicolò sensed a purpose behind her actions. She had a destination in mind and he intended to find out where…and with whom. It would be interesting to see if she had a partner in crime. The concierge must have given Kiley the answer she needed, for she rewarded him with a broad smile that seemed to cause the man’s brain to short-circuit the same way Nicolò’s had earlier. Then she spun around and started toward the lobby doors. And that’s when disaster struck.

Even though there was absolutely no reason for her to notice him or glance his way, even though he was practically buried in a jungle of shrubbery, the instant she came level with his position, she stiffened and her step faltered. Whatever connection had been forged in those few minutes they’d spent together crackled to life, sending out tendrils of awareness.

Time slowed and stretched. The chatter of voices and clatter of humanity grew muffled and distant. Even the light seemed to dim, leaving just the two of them within its brilliant embrace. With unerring accuracy, Kiley’s head swiveled in his direction and her gaze locked with Nicolò’s. The instant she spotted him, her eyes widened in shock. Acute distress followed on the heels of her shock.

Her distress caused an unexpected stab of concern that threw him off stride. He didn’t want to feel anything for this woman. Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny fact. During their brief time together, something had sparked to life, and it was more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced before.

Time resumed its normal pace and Kiley shot toward the entryway and whisked through the glass doors embossed with Le Premier’s name and logo. Nicolò followed, instinct urging him to run, the hunter giving chase to his prey. He hit the sidewalk outside the hotel just as she reached the corner intersection. People were still crossing, though the crossing light blinked a bright red hand of warning. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Spotting him, she darted into the crosswalk just as the light changed.

He saw it coming before it happened. A cab broke around a slow car, accelerating directly toward the intersection. Clearly, the driver didn’t realize Kiley was there. Nicolò thought he shouted a warning. He knew he broke into a run. The driver didn’t spot her until the very last instant. He hit the brakes at the same instant she tried to leap out of the way, but it was too late. The cab’s bumper clipped her with just enough force to send her somersaulting into the air before connecting with the pavement. Even as Nicolò pelted toward her, he reached for his phone. He depressed the keys without even looking and barked the information at the emergency operator the moment the call went through.

He reached her side and knelt down. She didn’t move. Didn’t even seem to breathe. From what he’d seen of her fall, she’d been sent flying toward the opposite sidewalk and hit her head on the curb. Vibrant blush-red hair flowed around her, still shimmering with life, while her pallor warned of something far different. Her locket rested against her cheek like a kiss.

“Kiley!” He didn’t dare touch her, though he wanted to. And then he saw it, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, and he almost lost it.

“I didn’t see her.” The driver of the cab appeared, staring down at Kiley and wringing his hands. Unabashed tears rolled down his bearded face. “She came out of nowhere.”

“I saw what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” Nicolò’s mouth tightened. The blame was all his, not the cab driver’s.

“Is she—” The cabbie broke off, swallowing hard. “Is she…?”

“No. I’ve called for an ambulance.”

As though in response, sirens wailed in the distance. A small crowd gathered around them and Nicolò kept them back with a single terse command, followed by a look so black that it sent most of the onlookers scurrying on their way.

The police arrived minutes later, the ambulance shortly after that. Nicolò watched helplessly as they secured the area and tended to Kiley. He vaguely remembered giving his identification. Vaguely recalled claiming Kiley as his own, because on some visceral level he knew that she was. Her well-being had now become his responsibility.

All through the hideous ordeal, he watched the EMTs stabilize her, watched them attach endless medical equipment to her, watched them fit her head and neck with protective devices. And the only thing he could think about was that if he hadn’t followed her, she’d never have run. She’d never have been hit by the cab. Never would have been injured.

He’d been so caught up in proving her a con artist that he’d put her life in danger. Based on the grim glances he saw the emergency personnel exchange, he may very well have killed her. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to face facts.

There was a connection between them whether he wanted it or not. That spark of electricity they’d experienced earlier hadn’t been part of her con. She’d been as surprised by their physical reaction to one another as he had. The truth was…This woman could be his Inferno mate. Since they’d never fully touched, he couldn’t be one hundred percent positive. But he doubted they needed complete contact. Deep inside he sensed the truth, sensed it with every fiber of his being.

The Inferno had sent him his soul mate. Granted, she wasn’t the one he’d have selected for himself. But by driving her to act so impetuously, he could very well have destroyed their future “might have been” before he ever got to know her. He’d claimed he didn’t want an Inferno bride.

It looked like fate had given him exactly what he wanted.

“H
ave you lost your mind?”

Nicolò glanced over his shoulder toward the hospital waiting room to make certain they couldn’t be overheard. Spying a few curious looks, he addressed his brother Lazzaro in Italian. “No, I haven’t lost my mind. It’s my fault she’s in here. If I hadn’t been running after her, she would never have—”

Lazz waved that aside with a sweep of his hand. “You told me that already,” he replied in the same language. “So now, in addition to having a claim on our fire diamond mines, Kiley O’Dell can sue you for chasing her in front of a cab. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes. No.” Damn it. Why did Sev have to send the logical Dante? “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it so I will. And while you’re at it, explain to me why they’re calling you Mr. O’Dell.”

Nicolò folded his arms across his chest. “I need regular updates about Kiley’s condition. And since they only discuss a patient’s condition if you’re a relative, the hospital staff may be operating under the misunderstanding that I’m her husband.”

“They what?” Lazz shoved a hand through his hair while he fought a perceptible battle for control. “Don’t tell me this is another one of your creative solutions.”

“You never complained when my ‘creative solutions’ worked to Dantes’ advantage.”

“Damn it, Nicolò!”

“Look, it just happened, okay? They needed information about her and since I had her purse with her identification and medical cards, they leapt to a conclusion I didn’t bother correcting, especially since it works to our advantage.”

“It works to our advantage right up until someone recognizes you. It isn’t like the Dantes are exactly low profile here in San Francisco. Our faces have been plastered all over the gossip magazines in recent months, or have you forgotten that minor detail?”

“Sev, you and Marco, may have been prominently featured in
The Snitch
, but I’ve been maintaining a low profile. As for Kiley…I plan to play the part of Mr. O’Dell for the time being. Eventually, I’ll straighten everything out. Until then—” Nicolò handed his brother Kiley’s purse “—get her information and give it to our private investigator. Tell Rufio that I need anything and everything he can discover about her as quickly as possible.”

“I’m already ahead of you. I put him on it yesterday.”

Nicolò nodded. “Perfect. Also, send someone over to Le Premier. Considering the amount of business we throw their way I don’t think the hotel will give you too hard a time about packing up her belongings and checking her out. I want regular updates on this, Lazz. And once Rufio’s done gathering any surface info on her, I want him to dig for more. Tell him to dig deep. I want to know everything from what size clothes and shoes she wears right down to what brand of makeup she uses. Everything,” he stressed. “Got it?”

“Why? What are you planning?”

Nicolò didn’t dare answer that one. “It’s still fluid.”

“Aw, hell.”

“Look, when I have all the details figured out, I’ll let you know. Also, stop by my place and feed and walk Brutus, will you? I don’t know how long I’m going to be hung up here.”

“You’ve pulled some wild stunts in your time, but this…” Lazz shook his head. “This one makes all the others seem almost normal.”

“This stunt won’t last long. As soon as she wakes, the jig’ll be up and I’ll have to finagle some new plan.”

“Like a way to get us out from under a massive lawsuit?”

Nicolò’s expression fell into grim lines. “That’s only a possibility if she ends up blaming me for the accident as much as I blame myself.”

“You better hope like hell she doesn’t.”

The sudden appearance of a nurse saved Nicolò from having to reply. “Excuse me, Mr. O’Dell?”

“How’s Kiley?” Nicolò immediately asked, turning his back on his brother.

Compassion darkened the nurse’s eyes. “All I can say for certain is that she’s stable. The doctor would like to see you and I’m sure he’ll fill you in on the particulars.” She inclined her head toward a nearby hallway. “If you’ll follow me?”

He instantly fell in step with the nurse, only realizing afterward that from the moment she showed up he’d completely forgotten his brother even existed. Turning a corner, the nurse opened the door to a small conference room barely larger than a cubicle. A doctor sat at a table, making notes in a tight, rapid scribble.

Flipping the chart closed, the man rose and offered Nicolò his hand. “I’m Dr. Ruiz.”

“Just give it to me straight. She’s alive, right?” Nicolò demanded tightly.

“Alive and stable,” Ruiz confirmed. “But she took quite a hit. It was miraculous, given the circumstances, that she didn’t break anything. She has various lacerations that we’ve stitched up and a deep hematoma to her left hip. It’s going to be quite painful and make it difficult for her to get around comfortably for a while.”

“And the bad news?”

“As you’re aware, she experienced a head trauma. A concussion. There’s been some minor swelling to her brain, but she’s responding to the medications we’re giving her to reduce it and all the scans are clear.”

“Is she awake?”

The doctor shook his head. “She woke briefly and seemed highly agitated and disoriented. Since then she’s been unconscious.”

One of the skills that made Nicolò so good at his job was an innate ability to read people. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

Ruiz’s mouth compressed. “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Dell. Head traumas can be tricky. Until she wakes, we won’t know the full extent of her injury. She may be perfectly fine, with perhaps a slight loss of memory from around the time of her accident. Or it could be far more extensive. You should prepare yourself for the worst, and hope for the best.”

“When can I see her?”

“She’s in intensive care. You can peek in for a minute or two right now. Then I suggest you go home and get some rest. We’ll call if there’s any change.”

Ten minutes later, an ICU nurse escorted him into one of the dozen three-sided rooms that comprised the unit. Kiley appeared small and frail in the bed, with various wires and tubes connected to her, while a dirge of machines beeped softly in the background. He wished she would open her eyes so he could see the vivid color brimming with that unsettling combination of hot awareness and keen intelligence, so he’d know that she’d fully recover from her injuries.

He felt the kick that urged him to go to her, to link their hands and complete the bond he felt between them. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. As though sensing a similar awareness despite the drugs sedating her, she stirred restlessly. Clearly, The Inferno—if that’s what it was—called to her, as well, for she muttered in whatever twilight land she occupied. Within moments a nurse appeared in response.

“She senses you,” she said, before offering a sympathetic smile. “You’ll need to go now. If you’ll leave a phone number we’ll call you with any updates.”

He did as instructed but found he couldn’t wait for them to contact him, and returned to the hospital first thing the next morning. The ICU nurses all turned to watch him with broad grins that gave him a second’s warning before he stepped into Kiley’s room and heard her attending doctor say, “Here’s your husband now.”

Both Nicolò and Kiley froze, staring for an endless moment at each other. Then she shook her head in wild-eyed disbelief. “That’s not possible,” she denied in no uncertain terms. “There’s no way he’s my husband.”

Nicolò bit back a curse. “Dr. Ruiz—”

“Don’t panic, Mr. O’Dell.” The doctor tossed a reassuring glance over his shoulder. “We warned you that she might have memory issues.”

“No. I’d remember if I’d married him,” Kiley argued.

“It’s all right, Mrs. O’Dell,” the doctor said in a soothing voice. “Your loss of memory is a result of your accident.”

Nicolò shut his eyes. Time to ’fess up. “She’s not—”

The doctor spoke at the same time, his voice rumbling over top of Nicolò’s confession. “Kiley, you don’t even remember your own name,” he said gently. “It’s perfectly natural that you wouldn’t remember you have a husband. I suggest we take this slow and easy. Your memory could come back at any point. Hours. Days. Possibly weeks. In the meantime, we can move you out of ICU and into a regular room while we run a few more tests.”

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Kiley’s gaze landed on Nicolò before flinching away. Tears filled her eyes and her voice rose with each word, growing steadily more shrill and hysterical. “I’m telling you this isn’t my husband. He can’t be. I’d know if he were.”

Ruiz signaled to one of the nurses, who began to prepare an injection. “Mr. O’Dell, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Once she’s had time to calm down and get accustomed to what’s happened, you can come back.”

Nicolò inclined his head. “Of course. If you’d just give me a second…”

He acted without thought, running on sheer instinct, responding to a call no one heard but him. Crossing to Kiley’s side, he reached down to take her hand in his. Behind him, Ruiz voiced an objection, while Kiley hissed in dismay as she drew back in a vain attempt to avoid his touch. He ignored everything but the demand screaming through him, one that insisted he finally act on the urge that had been clawing at him since the moment he’d met this woman.

He forcibly took Kiley’s hand in his.

The Inferno struck with more ferocity than Nicolò believed possible. Even the machines trilled in momentary alarm before subsiding again into a steady rhythm. Never before had he experienced such a powerful connection. It felt as though every emotion he possessed flowed from his hand into hers before slamming him with a backwash that left him drowning in desire.

He responded without thought. Without giving her time to protest, he bent down and took her mouth in a kiss of utter possession, hard against soft, determination overwhelming uncertainty. She tasted even sweeter than he’d imagined, soft and warm and—after a momentary hesitation—receptive. No. More than receptive. Eager.

He couldn’t resist. He swept inward, taking advantage of her unstinting welcome. Never had he felt such a reaction when he’d kissed a woman, as though every aspect of the touch and taste of her had branded him. A certainty filled him, a certainty that no other woman would ever be quite right for him, except this one. The softest of moans, hungry and eager, slipped from her mouth to his, welcoming him home.

And in that moment he could no longer escape the simple truth. This woman belonged to him.

Kiley froze at the first touch of her husband’s hand, overcome by a sensation so all-consuming, it rendered her speechless. Fiery heat shot from palm to palm, almost painful in its intensity, before settling into a warm, steady connection that soaked deep into that point of melding. Second by second, with each beat of her heart, desire pierced straight through flesh and sinew and bone, until it invaded every part of her. It seemed to lap through her veins, filling her to overflowing with a heavy, irresistible want.

And then he kissed her.

It was a first kiss, worthy of fairy-tale legends. It was also impossible to compare to any that might have come before, since fate had veiled any such occurrences. Even so, she found it the most incredible experience in her very short memory. His mouth ate at hers, his hunger unmistakable, threatening to consume her with that single, unbelievably delectable kiss. Every instinct she possessed screamed to life, telling her this was her man. That he belonged to her and no one else. Her response came without thought or reason. She opened to him, unfurling like a flower beneath the blazing heat of the sun.

He possessed her mouth and she gave back to him with unstinting generosity. In that instant she didn’t care who she was, or who this man claimed to be. All that mattered was that this moment never end. Where before all felt alien and unfamiliar, this she recognized. This she knew. Slowly, he pulled back, his breath escaping in a heated rush, his eyes burning with black fire. And she read in his expression all that she felt, a mating of tumultuous emotions.

She sensed on an instinctive level that she and this man had become permanently entangled, heart, body and soul. But…how was that possible? How could something as basic as joining hands, or exchanging a single kiss, cause such an undeniable reaction? How could this simple contact bind her to a complete stranger with such relentless power?

Her reaction to his touch told her she knew this man, regardless of what she’d claimed only moments before. Slowly she lifted her gaze to her husband’s. Or at least, the man who claimed her for his wife.

Her opinion of him hadn’t changed in the few moments since he’d first stepped into her room. He remained fiercely handsome, a god of war, with hair and eyes of the deepest ink and a stare that silenced with a stony glare. He wore his hair longer than convention dictated and it fell to his neck in heavy waves. Maybe they would have tightened into actual curls if he hadn’t subdued them, no doubt with a single forbidding look, the kind he currently had trained on the nurses and doctors surrounding them.

“Who are you?” she demanded. She waved away his response before it could even form. “I know you claim you’re my husband. I mean, what’s your name?”

“Nicolò. You call me Nicolò.” A smile warmed the stark coldness of his features, touching a mouth that had left an indelible stamp on her own. “Except when you’re angry with me. Then you choose a few more colorful terms of endearment.”

“And how often does that happen?”

His smile grew, stunning in its beauty. “Often enough. We both have rather…tempestuous personalities.”

His gaze lifted to the medical personnel gathered around her bedside and he jerked his head toward the curtain that screened the cubicle. Without a word they filed from the room. It didn’t come as any surprise that they acquiesced. She had a strong suspicion that few dared to argue with Nicolò, and those few who tried, didn’t hold out against him for long.

“I’d also like to set one fact straight,” he said the moment they were alone. “My name isn’t O’Dell, it’s Dante. Nicolò Dante. When you were first brought in, everything happened in such a confusing rush that I didn’t bother to correct the error.”