Free Dante's Honor-Bound Husband by Day Leclaire Page B

into his waiting arms. “It was so close, Constantine.”
    â€œNot as close as you might think,” he lied, holding her tight against him. She was safe, he reminded himself. And relatively unharmed. “I’d tracked you as far as Calistoga and wasn’t too far behind you. I knew d’Angelo owned a lodge near there, and my father was working to get the exact address.”
    She stilled. “You called Vittorio? He knows what happened?”
    â€œI would have called His Holiness, himself, if I thoughthe could have given me d’Angelo’s address. Fortunately my father has excellent connections. One way or the other, I would have reached you in time.”
    Her chin quivered, her jade-green eyes overflowing as emotion set in. “Thank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.” He released her, nudging her in the direction of the bathroom. “Try not to fall asleep in there, okay?”
    She didn’t linger. Ten minutes later she emerged, pink-cheeked and smelling subtly of herbs and flowers. She’d wrapped herself in a thick, velour robe. After checking her feet and finding only minor cuts and bruises, he turned down the bed while she stripped off the robe and climbed between the sheets. He lifted an eyebrow at the thigh-length cotton shift she wore beneath. With the light behind her, it was practically transparent. He kept his eyes off the press of feminine curves thrusting against the thin cotton, all the while fighting to maintain an ironclad hold on his libido.
    â€œI think I’d like to leave the light on,” she said, pulling the covers up to her chin.
    â€œThat’s fine.” He indicated a heavily cushioned chaise lounge chair covered in antique-rose velvet. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
    She frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous, Constantine. You’ll never get to sleep on that. It’s way too small. Use the guest room.”
    â€œI’m staying right here.” His voice brooked no opposition. He held up his hand when she would have argued. “You’ll sleep better, piccola, having someone close by. And I’ll sleep better having you where I can keep watch over you.”
    She examined the chair again, then him. “Are you sure?”
    â€œPositive. Knowing that all I have to do is open my eyes and see you, safe and sound, will put me right out.”
    Tears filled her eyes again. “Thank you, Constantine,” she said in a husky voice. “You have no idea—” She broke off and shook her head.
    â€œI think I do.” He approached and, using the utmost restraint, kissed her forehead. “Try to sleep.”
    She did, which came as a huge relief to Constantine. He waited until she was deeply unconscious, then slipped from the room and placed a call. When he finished, he returned to the bedroom. He paused at the foot of the bed, gazing at Gianna, and made a silent vow.
    No matter what it took, he’d keep this woman safe from harm. He knew that part of the drive to protect came from this peculiar Inferno which connected them, the link so strong it didn’t give him any other option. But it went much deeper than that. When she hurt, he hurt. When she hungered, he felt the need to feed her. What gave her joy, he was driven to provide for her. Her wants and his were so tightly bound that they were almost indistinguishable.
    Even as he acknowledged those binds, they chafed, stealing his independence. He hadn’t asked for this connection. And though he wanted Gianna, he didn’t want to be controlled by her. It felt unnatural.
    Well, that would change soon enough.
    What David d’Angelo had set out to accomplish would happen, just with a different man. Instead of d’Angelo being honor-bound to take Gianna as his bride, Constantine would be the one. Oh, his bride-to-be wouldn’t be pleased with his ruthlessness. But she hadn’t given him any other choice. She’d