“We can make this work,” he told her, during the still hours between deepest night and earliest morning. “If we agree not to discuss anything job-related, this will work.”
“For how long?” she protested.
“Look, Iknow TH is after a big-name actress to pull them out of their financial hole. Eventually, I’ll find out who she is. Idon’t need you for that. There are far more interesting ways to spend my time with you.”
She managed a smile, even though she continued to worry. “Our jobs mean everything to us, Sev. Even you can’t deny that. They’re as much a part of us as our flesh and bones. We won’t be able to share that part of ourselves.”
He conceded the point with a swift nod. “We’ll discuss other things, instead.”
“Like what?”
He rolled onto his side to face her. “Like, growing up in foster care. Coming from such a huge family, Ican’t begin to imagine it. Why were you never adopted?”
She tugged the sheet over her breasts and tucked it beneath her arms. Aridiculous reaction, she conceded, and more than a little telling. But talking about her childhood left her exposed. Any covering, even a sheet, helped compensate forthat.
“I almost was,” she said in answer to his question. “When I was eight. I’d been in foster care for three years by then.”
He traced a scorching finger from the curve of her cheek down the length of her neck. As always, she flamed beneath his touch, her breath growing ragged. “What happened?”
Francesca shrugged. “They were about to adopt me when Carrie unexpectedly became pregnant with twins. The doctor ordered complete bed rest and her husband insisted I be placed elsewhere because it was too much for his wife. Iheard him tell the social worker that taking care of me put their babies at risk, and that the babies were their most important consideration.”
Sev swept her hair back from her face, regarding her with heartbreaking compassion. “What happened then?”
“I went through a succession of homes after that. Four, Ithink.” She dismissed the memory with a careless smile and rolled over on top of him. His warmth became her warmth and helped diminish the coldness that streaked through her veins and sank into her bones. Acoldness those particular memories always engendered. “Acting out, Iguess, because I’d been foolish enough to imagine that Carrie and her husband might actually want me as much as the children they were about to have.”
“I’m sorry.” He released his breath in a rough sigh, causing the curls at her temples toswirl and dance. “That’s such an inadequate thing to say. But I mean it.”
“Like I said, don’t feel sorry for me.” Pity was the last thing she wanted from him. “I survived.”
“And found your father. That must have helped.” He studied her curiously. “You haven’t told me anything about him. What’s he like?”
“There’s not much to tell,” she claimed, aware of how evasive she sounded. “He... he had a one-night stand with my mother. Since he was married at the time—is still married—Ididn’t feel comfortable intruding in their lives.”
Sev swore. “You just can’t catch a break, can you?”
“What about you?” She deliberately changed the subject. “You’ve said that after your father’s death you had to dismantle most of Dantes. Igather that included Timeless Heirlooms.”
“Yes.”
She could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but pushed, anyway. “Which explains why you’re so determined to get it back again. That must have been as difficult for you as foster care was for me.” She hesitated before asking, “Why has it become such an obsession? Imean, if yourfather was the one responsible for Dantes’ decline—”
He wrapped his arms around her and reversed their positions, bracing himself on his forearms to lessen the press of weight on top of her. “Why have I become so obsessed with rebuilding it?”
He looked so fierce. So determined. “Yes.”
“Because my father tried to tell me something about the business the day before he died.” His words grew ragged. “And I was too impatient to listen to another of his crazy schemes. Maybe if I had—” He broke off, amuscle jerking in his cheek.
“What?” Her eyes widened in sudden comprehension. “You think he had an idea for saving Dantes? One that didn’t involve dismantling the entire business?”
“I don’t think. Iknow. He called it Dante’s Heart. Even my mother thought it would work. I—reluctantly—agreed to meet with them the next day when they returned from their sailing excursion.”
“Only they didn’t return.”
He closed his eyes, grief carving deep lines into his face. “No.”
“Didn’t he write down his idea? Leave some sort of clue behind?”
“I tore both home and office apart looking for it. There was nothing. Nothing except—”
