He responded by lifting her left hand to his mouth in a move that should have come across as hackneyed. Instead it struck her as unbelievably endearing. Her throat closed as his gaze linked with hers. And just like that, in front of all the Dantes, The Inferno struck and she totally melted.
Nonna dabbed at her eyes and smiled at Primo reminiscently. Then she clapped her hands together, scolding in Italian. As one, the Dante men shuffled toward the kitchen, where they switched from English to Italian. Sev leftlast.
He ran his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
She blew out her breath in a sigh, murmuring in an undertone, “Well, Idon’t think we have to worry about whether or not they believe our engagement is real.”
He bent and captured her mouth, no doubt because he knew she didn’t dare protest. Not that protesting occurred to her until long after he’d released her. “No, we don’t.”
Nonna grinned as she watched their parting. “It is good, what you have. Special.”
“I think complicated might be a more accurate description.”
Nonna nodded in agreement. “With Dante men, it can be nothing less.” She gathered Francesca’s hand in hers. “He needs you, that one. Oh, you may look at him and wonder. He is so strong. So hard-nosed. He is quite capable of standing on his own. But he has had to be. He has had no choice but to take the one path open to him. Anything else would have meant disaster for his family.”
“Because—” Francesca broke off, realizing it might not be politic to mention her son’s poor business skills had almost destroyed the business her husband built.
Nonna nodded. “You are tactful. Iappreciate that. But what you are thinking istrue. Dominic almost destroyed Dantes.” Lines of grief couldn’t detract from a face still handsome despite the weight of her years. “If not for Severo, Dantes would be no more.”
“It couldn’t have been easy for him.”
“It was more than difficult. The decisions he has made...” Nonna shook her head. “Any man would find them near to impossible. But at so young an age, so soon after the death of his mother and father?” She clicked her tongue in distress.
“You’re saying he had to be ruthless.” As he’d proven to her on more than one occasion these past weeks.
“Yes.” Nonna closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer. Then she looked at Francesca, joy replacing her sorrow. “But then he found you. He needs you,ciccina. You soften him. And after all that has been forced on him, all the horrible choices, you give him peace. Best of all, you give him The Inferno.”
With a grateful smile, she linked arms with Francesca and urged her toward the kitchen. It troubled Francesca to see the situation from Sev’s side of the fence. She didn’t want to sympathize with all he’d been through.
Worse, rather than fading, her physical and emotional response toward him grew progressively stronger with each passing day.Considering all that stood between them, it would make life easier if it would just go away. She entered the kitchen and spared him a swift look, confirming those feelings weren’t going anywhere anytimesoon.
To her surprise, she spotted Primo at the stove, commandeering the burners like an admiral overseeing his fleet, while the Dante men moved in practiced synchronicity, taking care of all the domestic chores in preparation for themeal.
Her surprise must have shown because Nonna grinned. “This is my night off. It is a Dante tradition,” she explained, gesturing toward her grandchildren. “They take care of me on family day.”
“I like that.” Francesca’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “They do dishes, too, right? You don’t get stuck with those?”
“No, no.” She gave a broad wink. “I am too clever for that. Here. You take Gianna’s seat next to me. She’s inL’Italia. Visitingfamigliawith her parents and brothers. You will meet them next time.”
Assuming there was a next time, Francesca almost said, before catching back the words at the last second. Fortunately, dinner came together just then and the Dante men descended on the table like they hadn’t eaten in a month. After grace, conversation exploded, for the mostpart in English, occasionally in Italian, as a bewildering array of dishes passed back and forth.
The choices were endless. Marinated calamari vied withpanzanella. Cannellini beans cooked with garlic, olive oil and sage competed with stuffed tomatoes. Then the main dishes marched around the table. Chicken Marsala with red peppers, tortellini, pasta with a variety of sauces.
“Save room for dessert,” Sev warned as he piled her foodhigh.
She shook her head at the overloaded plate. “I can serve myself, you know.”
He gave her a look a shade too innocent. “I just wanted to make sure you try a bit of everything.”
She knew him too well to buy into that one. “I think you want to stuff me full of carbs so my brain goes to sleep.”
“Now why would I want to do that?” But his mouth twitched, giving himaway.
“So I can’t think fast enough to argue with you.”
He grinned. “But,cara, Ilove arguing with you.”
A liquid warmth swept through her again at the teeny-tiny accent that crept through hiswords. No doubt the setting contributed to it, and the fact that he constantly switched back and forth between English and Italian.
