Free Dante's Stolen Wife by Day Leclaire Page B

you’d rather, you can phone your secretary and ask her to bring you messages or work files.” Unable to resist, he leaned in and snatched a quick kiss. It relieved his mind no end when she responded to it. “Just warn her not to alert anyone to your presence.”
    “Like Lazz.”
    “Exactly.”
    He took them in through the back entrance, in the hopes of attracting as little attention as possible. They arrived at his office only moments before the Romanos and, after reluctantly parting from his wife, he escorted Vittorio and his daughter, Ariana, into the conference room. The meeting didn’t go as well as he’d hoped. A new article had appeared just that morning in The Snitch , detailing how Sev had blackmailed his wife into marriage. Not quite accurate, but damning enough.
    “What do you want me to do, Vittorio?” Marco finally asked. “I can’t prevent them from publishing these stories. No one can. Look at the royal families in Europe. There are constant, scurrilous articles about them in the various rags. If the Royals can’t put a stop to it, how can I?”
    “He has a point, Papa,” Ariana said.
    Vittorio folded his arms across his chest and his face fell into stubborn lines. “All I hear is excuses. Maybe if you and your brothers were more circumspect, your antics wouldn’t attract the attention of this rag.”
    Before Marco could reply, he heard Lazz’s voice raised in anger from the general direction of his office. Then the door slammed open and his brother burst into the room, Caitlyn hot on his heels.
    “You son of a bitch,” Lazz snarled, and launched himself at Marco.

Six
    M arco absorbed the impact and they hit the ground with a thud. Lazz landed several hard punches before realizing that his brother, while protecting himself, wasn’t striking back.
    “Fight, you bastard,” Lazz shouted. “Give me an excuse to tear you apart for stealing what was mine.”
    Before Marco could respond, Sev and Nicolò descended on the conference room, dragging the two combatants apart. A babble of voices erupted, some in English, more in Italian. Through the mass of bodies, Marco saw Caitlyn standing off to one side, looking horrified. But even as he watched, her chin set and he could practically read her thoughts. She intended to face the ramifications of her actions, just as Marco would.
    “Did you touch her?” Lazz demanded. “Did you put your hands on her?”
    “Touching was unavoidable, all things considered.” Marco fingered his split lip and winced. “Caitlyn and I are married.”
    Stunned disbelief held everyone silent for a second before all hell broke loose again. Across the room Vittorio Romano shot to his feet. Ariana began a heated argument with him but Marco could tell it wouldn’t do any good. He could kiss that account goodbye. Something Ariana said must have made an impact because Vittorio hesitated and then with great reluctance pointed in Lazz’s direction.
    And then something very strange happened. Ariana turned to look at Lazz, whose focus remained fixed on Marco. A strange smile tilted her mouth and she nodded. “Yes, he’s the one,” he heard her voice in a brief lull in the shouting.
    Vittorio waded through the herd of arguing Dantes to Marco’s side. “Fix this,” he warned. “Then call me.”
    Marco didn’t have a clue what had just happened, but he’d take whatever fortune the gods cared to bestow and run with it. “You have my word. This will sort itself out in time.”
    “Make it soon,” Vittorio advised.
    The minute the Romanos left, Lazz swiveled in Caitlyn’s direction and Marco read the determination in his brother’s eyes. He leaped to his feet to put himself between the two. Sev and Nicolò moved in to block him, grabbing hold when he would have fought his way to his wife’s side.
    “You owe him this much,” Nicolò growled.
    “I don’t owe him a damn thing. You don’t know what he did.” Unable to break free, Marco swore long and virulently.