“Who the hell are you?” Caitlyn demanded.
“Your husband.”
“Don’t treat me like a fool. You’re not Lazz.”
She forced down the surge of hysteria battering to escape.
But she couldn’t keep herself from folding in on herself in
an attempt to hide her nudity beneath the scant covering of
rapidly dissipating bubbles. Though why she bothered
after what the two of them had done last night, she couldn’t
say. “Lazz has a scar on his hip. I saw it when
we went swimming. You don’t have a scar.”
“No, I don’t. And no, I’m not Lazz.” He slowly
rose, water sheeting off him as he stepped from the tub and
snagged a towel. “That doesn’t change the fact that
I’m your husband.”
It took every ounce of self-control to keep from totally
losing it. She felt hideously exposed, and more than a
little frightened. She’d married this man—a complete
stranger—and didn’t even know his name. She’d made
love to him all through the night. Frolicked like a
child in a bubble-filled bathtub. But she didn’t have
a clue who he was, other than a dead-ringer for Lazz.
She
fought to apply reason to insanity, to use what little logic
and common sense remained at her disposal, while all around
her bricks and mortar crumbled. “Since you look
exactly like Lazz, I’m assuming you’re related. His
brother?” Her brain gave a kick start. “His twin
brother?”
“Yes.”
“Lazz
never mentioned a twin,” she stated tightly. Is this your
idea of a joke? Is he in on whatever amusing little scam
you’re trying to pull, or is this all your own idea?”
“This
isn’t a joke or a scam. And if you’ll look closely, you’ll
see I’m not the least amused. Here.” He ripped another
towel off the glass and wrought iron rack and held it out to
her. “I suspect you’ll be more comfortable having this
conversation if you aren’t naked.”
She
struggled to hold tears at bay. “I can’t believe I’m having
his conversation at all. I want to know who the hell you
are and what sort of hideous game you’re playing.”
Clutching
the towel to her breasts, she stood and wrapped the thick
length of cotton around herself. Lazz—no, not
Lazz—cupped her elbow to steady her as she climbed out of
the water. She almost thanked him before catching it back
at the last instant.
“Cara—”
She
yanked free of his hold. “Don’t. Don’t you dare call me
that. Now, who are you?”
“Marco
Dante.”
“Marco.”
She recognized the name. Hadn’t she heard Britt rhapsodize
endlessly over the past six weeks about the “charming” one
of the Dante brothers? Why, in the name of everything holy,
had her friend neglected to mention that Marco and Lazz were
twins? “How did this happen? Why did it happen?
Does Lazz know what you’ve pulled?”
He
removed a terrycloth robe from the back of the door without
answering, and handed it over. She didn’t want to
appreciate his thoughtfulness. She didn’t want him doing or
saying anything that would make her feel kindly disposed
toward him. She shrugged on the robe and belted it tightly
around her waist, before allowing the towel to drop to the
floor at her feet.
Lazz—Marco—didn’t
bother with a robe but exited into the bedroom with the
towel slung carelessly around his waist. She desperately
wanted him to cover up, to hide that impressive chest that
she’d peppered with kisses. To conceal those amazing arms
which had held her with such tender strength. To turn from
mind-blowing lover back into a normal, average man, despite
the fact that there wasn’t and never would be anything
normal or average about him.
To her
relief, once they’d reached the sitting room, Marco gave her
some much needed breathing space. “First, this is no game,”
he began. “And it happened because Lazz gave me no other
choice. At least, none given the limited amount of time I
had to work with.”
She held
up a hand to silence him, wishing she’d chugged that coffee
instead of losing it in the bathwater. Spying the
coffeemaker and—hallelujah—a half pot of coffee remaining,
she crossed the room and poured herself a cup. Then a
second. Satisfied that her brain was firing on at least
half its cylinders, she faced the man she’d married only
hours earlier.
“I need
you to explain things, but I need them explained in a way I
can understand. So, I’m going to ask the questions and
you’re going to answer them, simply and concisely. Got it?”
“Logic,
Caitlyn?”
She
resented the knowing look in his eyes, a look accompanied by
a familiar flash of humor. She lifted her chin to a
combative angle. “It’s what I do best. Or did, until
recently,” she corrected.
She
struggled to come up with a logical first question, but for
some reason it hovered just beyond her reach. All she could
think of was that she’d been tricked into a bogus marriage
by this man so that he could… Could what? Get her into
bed? That didn’t make a bit of sense. He didn’t have to go
through this sham of a wedding in order to accomplish that.
Hit out at Lazz? Possibly. But…why?
She
rubbed at the tension headache forming behind her temples,
wishing with all her heart that she wore a business suit,
had her reading glasses to hide behind, and a pad of paper
and pen to help organize her thoughts. “Okay, first
question. Is there a rational beginning to all this?
Someplace we can start from?”
“You’d
like a Point A?”
The
poignancy of the question ripped into her, making it almost
impossible to keep her voice steady enough to answer.
“Yes. Point A would be an excellent place to start.”
“That’s
easy enough.” His hazel eyes grew watchful and intent,
while the color darkened to autumnal flashes of gold and
brown. “You and I met the morning you started at Dantes,”
he surprised her by saying. “In the lobby near the
receptionist’s desk.”
She
blinked in surprise. “That was you?”
“Yes.”
He kept his voice even, though she sensed it cost him. “I
didn’t realize it at the time, but apparently you thought I
was Lazz.”
“The
receptionist,” Caitlyn explained. “He told me you were
Lazz. And since the head of personnel had already pointed
out your brother to me during my interview. I assumed…”
“A
natural mistake.”
She
inclined her head. “There’s no reason why I’d think there
might be two of you, especially since no one’s mentioned
anything about a twin in the interim. Maybe they thought I
already knew.”
“If I’d
realized that, I’d have corrected the misunderstanding right
then and there and it would have saved us—” He swept a
negligent hand through the air “—all this.”
He
couldn’t be more wrong. She’d heard stories about Marco,
stories that insured she’d have given short shrift to any
advances coming from the sort of man cut from her
grandfather’s cloth. “Just to be clear? I would never get
involved with a man like you.”
“But we
are involved, cara. More than involved,” he replied
gently. He didn’t give her time to argue his statement. “I
think I know the next part of the story. Lazz didn’t bother
straightening out the mix-up in the lobby. And I was sent
off on a sudden emergency. A very convenient sudden
emergency.”
She
caught the ripple of tension whenever he mentioned his
brother’s name. Something had happened there and somehow
she’d been put in the middle of it. Before this ended,
she’d find a way to change that. “You believe Lazz is
responsible for your change in job assignment? Why?” She
read the answer in his gaze and shook her head in
disbelief. “Because of me? You must be joking.”
Marco
leaned against the archway between the bedroom and sitting
area and folded his arms across his chest. “He wanted you,”
he said with a shrug. “He didn’t realize you were already
taken.”
“Taken!”
Her temper flashed like wildfire. “Let me clarify something
for you, Mr. Dante. Despite current evidence to the
contrary, I’m not some brainless object to be picked up or
discarded, or even worse fought over by a pair of
schoolboys. I make my own choices. I always have and I
always will.”
“I’m
relieved to hear that since it means you won’t give in to
whatever demands Lazz makes when he hears about our
marriage. I won’t have him coming between us again.”
She
sucked in a breath and felt her face go white with shock.
“Dear God. Are you saying that the events of the past
twenty-four hours are your way of retaliating against your
brother?” Her voice rose despite her best attempts to
control it. “Are you kidding me? Just because he succeeded
in dating someone you’d chosen for yourself? You did this
to me so you could hit out at Lazz?”
He
straightened, a wash of color sweeping along his elegant
cheekbones. “You chose Lazz because you didn’t realize we
were the ones who connected that morning in the lobby. Who
bonded.”
“We shook
hands, Marco! That was it.”
“And
experienced The Inferno.”
She
stared at him, nonplussed. “I know I’m going to regret
asking this, but what’s The Inferno?” He took his time,
explaining in detail, and she actually found herself
listening. So it had a name, came her first thought, before
she downed the last of her coffee, praying it would help her
make sense of what had to be total nonsense. “And you
actually believe in this superstition or fantasy or
whatever?”
He took
instant exception. “It’s not superstition or fantasy. All
the Dantes believe in it. Well, except for Lazz.” He
considered for an instant. “And possibly Nicolò. The
jury’s still out on my cousins, only because they haven’t
had it happen to them, yet. But that’s not the point, damn
it. It’s real. It happened to us. And before long you’ll
believe, as well.”
She
glared at him. She didn’t want to accept a single word he
said, even though it helped explain how she’d ended up here,
married to a complete stranger. For some bizarre
reason—other than The Inferno—she’d decided to chase after
Zorro and gotten herself in this mess, all in the name of a
little excitement. This was why steady and predictable won
the race every time. Still…
She
shook her head, more for her own benefit than his. “I
don’t believe you. Not that it matters, because after today
I’m never going to see you again.”
He simply
smiled. “And why would you want to do that? We’re
married. Did last night mean so little to you?”
To her
embarrassment, the tears she’d managed to hold at bay
earlier escaped. “It meant everything to me. Or it would
have if you hadn’t lied to me. You committed fraud. You
knew full well that if you’d introduced yourself as Marco,
I’d have had nothing to do with you. So, you pretended to
be Lazz in order to trick me into marriage. To trick me
into bed. I guarantee a good lawyer will put a fast end to
our marriage.”
To her
dismay, he approached, rousing emotions she had no business
experiencing. “Yesterday your friends warned you that Lazz
planned to propose at Primo and Nonna’s anniversary party.
Tell me, Caitlyn. What answer would you have given him if
he had?”
“I don’t
see what that has to do—”
“You
would have refused him, wouldn’t you? At the very least you
would have asked for time. You told me as much last night.”
“Okay,
fine,” she conceded. “That’s what I would have done. So?”
“Why did
you change your mind? Why did you agree to marry me?”
“Temporary insanity combined with too much champagne.”
“Ah,
cara,” he murmured with a laugh. “You can’t lie to me.
Last night had nothing to do with too much wine and you know
it. You left the party with me, married me, made love to
me, because you recognized on a visceral level that I’m the
man with whom you belong. And you planned to refuse Lazz
for the same reason. Just as you sensed the connection
between us, you felt the lack with him.”
“Why
didn’t you simply explain about the mix-up?” It was a cry
from the heart. “Why resort to subterfuge?”
“I ran
out of time,” he said simply. “Lazz planned to propose and
even if you’d refused him, you would have refused any
advances on my part, as well. Don’t you understand? He
doesn’t love you, sweetheart.”
“And you
do?”
“I’m not
going to answer that because you won’t believe anything I
say at this point. Only time will convince you whether or
not we’re meant to be together. Lazz has decided that you
two have enough in common to make marriage a logical choice,
but that’s not reasonable grounds for marriage.”
“It’s
more reasonable than the way you went about it,” she hit
back. “Until last night, we’d been in each other’s company
for a whole five minutes. And now you’ve locked us into
this bogus marriage.”
“It’s not
bogus,” he corrected calmly. “My legal name is on the
marriage license. The priest used it during the ceremony.”
She
stared in dismay. “He did?”
He
hesitated. “I might have distracted you about then. It’s
possible you weren’t paying strict attention.”
“Oh,
Marco.” Satisfaction flared to life in his eyes, brought
on, she suspected, by her use of his real name. “This isn’t
going to work. You realize that, don’t you?”
“You’re
right.”
She
opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again when his
comment sank in. “I am?”
“It’s not
going to work if you’re unwilling to take a chance.”
He
wrapped his arms around her. She shuddered at the familiar
feel of his arms, at the scent of the oils from their bath
that still clung to his bare chest. More than anything she
wanted to close her eyes and return to those magical hours
they’d shared the previous night. To tumble into bed with
this man and sleep secure in the certainty that all was
right with her world.
Only it
wasn’t. Not any longer.
Other Books in The Dante Legacy Trilogy:
Dante's Blackmailed Bride
Dante's
Stolen Wife
Dante's Wedding Deception
Dante's Contract Marriage
