She paled. “Will the Fontaines be there?”
“I assume so.” Compassion filled him. “You’re going to have to face them sometime,” he added gently.
For a brief, heartrending moment, her chin trembled. Then she firmed it and squared her shoulders. “Fine. We might as well get it over with. Where is it, and what time should I arrive?”
“It’s at Le Premier again.” He sympathized with her slight flinch, understanding that she probably regarded the hotel as the scene of her downfall. Or at the very least, the point where her life took a sharp, painful ninety-degree turn. “I’ll pick you up at your apartment at eight.”
“Not a chance—”
“Don’t.” He cut her off without compunction. “You’re not going to win, so don’t waste your energy fighting me.”
Her chin shot up. “It’s your way or... what? You’ll fire me?”
He didn’t bother answering. She knew the terms of their contract without him reiterating them. He approached, drawn by a force beyond his ability to control. “Do you really want to turn our relationship into a war when there are so many better ways we could expend our time and energy?”
Passion exploded across her face. Unfortunately, anger drove it rather than desire. “I refuse to fall into your arms after you’ve forced me into this situation. How could you think I would?”
“Then don’t fall.” He caught her close and offered a teasing smile. “Trip a little and I’ll catch you.”
Her anger vied with a naked longing and she splayed her hands across his chest to hold him off. “Please don’t do this, Sev. Either let me work for you or let me go. But if you keep forcing the issue, we’ll end up despising each other.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the silken feel of her curls rivaling that of her skin. “I could never despise you.” His smile tilted. “But maybe that’s all you feel for me.”
She closed her eyes. “I—Idon’t despise you.”
He knew how hard her confession came. He leaned into her, basking in her feminine warmth. Somehow, someway, he’d find a way to fix this, while still protecting Dantes and all the people who depended onhim.
Somehow.
Francescadressed with more than her usual care. She tried to tell herself she did it for her own peace of mind, that the extra pains she took helped give her the strength and composure she needed to face the Fontaines, as well as others in the industry who felt she’d sold out. But that would be a lie. Everything she did to prepare for the night ahead was with one person inmind.
Sev.
She checked the mirror a final time. The sleek bronze-toned dress hugged her curves, while her hairstyle, asimple knot at the base of her neck, helped draw attention to the topaz chandelier earrings she’d designed before joining Timeless Heirlooms. In fact, it had been one of the pieces that convinced Kurt and Tina to hire her. Checking the mirror a final time, shenodded in satisfaction. Simple and understated, while subtly advertising why her talents were currently in such high demand. Or at least she hoped that would be the overall reaction.
Promptly at eight, Sev knocked at her door. His single sweeping look convinced Francesca she’d chosen the perfect ensemble. Hot molten hunger exploded in his gaze. She fell back a step before the wall of heat radiating off him. Heaven help her, when had her apartment grown so small? And when had Sev grown so large? Even worse, after everything he’d done, why did she still long to throw herself in his arms and surrender everything to him? It didn’t make a bit of sense.
“Tesoro mio,”he murmured. The lyricism she’d come to associate with him caressed the words. “You stagger me.”
Good. She wanted him staggered. She wanted to knock him clean off his feet. It seemed only fair considering he’d done the same to her. Not that she’d allow any hint of that to show. Behind her, the bed called to her, whispering such innovative suggestions, it brought a blush to her cheeks. She gathered up her wrap and purse. Time to leave. She didn’t dare stay another second in such close confines with Sev. Not with her bed misbehaving. Stupidbed.
She suffered the short drive to Le Premier in silence, reluctant to do or say anything thatmight put her mental and emotional state in jeopardy. The next few hours would prove incredibly difficult and she wanted a few minutes to prepare herself, to slam every barrier she possessed into place. She succeeded beautifully, right up until he helped her from thecar.
Leaning down in a sweet, intimate move, he whispered in her ear, “Back to the scene of the crime.”
“Yours or mine?” She managed to ask the question with barely a tremor to betray her agitation.
“Mine,” he claimed without hesitation. “I accept full blame for what happened here.”
“Considering how little resistance I offered, that’s rather generous of you.”
He gathered her hand in his and tucked it through the crook of his arm. “Not at all. Because if I had to do it over again, Iwould.”
She stiffened in outrage. “You’d blackmail me into leaving the Fontaines?”
He looked down at her, his eyes burning with tarnished lights. “I’d steal you away and make love to you until morning broke.” A teasing smile came and went. “And then I’d blackmail you, if only to keep you close.”
Francesca didn’t know how to respond to his provocative statement, so she remained silent. If he noticed her discomfort, he didn’t let on, chatting casually with associates and taking pains to introduce her as “the most talented designer he’d ever met.” To her relief, the first part of the evening passed without a hitch. She and Sev wandered through the ballroom, examining the various offerings available for bid. He paused to show her the three pieces Dantes’ donated to the cause.
