She turned to leave his office without further argument, which worried him all the more. Hell. No question about it. She was up to something, and he suspected he wouldn’t like whatever scheme she was busily hatching.
Later that evening,Francesca stood outside Sev’s apartment building, her head bent against the rain, soaked to the skin from an unexpected shower. Why had he demanded she come by tonight of all nights? she wondered indespair. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten together with Kurt she wouldn’t be finding this so difficult. But when she’d suggested waiting until morning to show Sev her latest designs, he’d insisted that he needed to see them tonight.
She shivered uncontrollably, wanting nothing more than to crawl into her bathtub at home and have a long, hot soak in conjunction with an even longer cry. Swiping the dampness from her cheeks—rain, she attempted to reassure herself, not tears—she rode the elevator to the top floor of Sev’s apartment building and applied fist todoor.
It opened almost immediately. “What the hell?” Sev took one look at her and swept her across the threshold and into his apartment, ignoring her disjointed protests about dripping all over his hardwood floors. “I don’t give a flying f—” He tempered the expression. “A flying fig about the damn floors. Icare about you. What the hell’s happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m wet.” She trembled and held out the packet of designs. “Maybe cold, too. I’m shaking so hard it’s sort of tough to tell.”
He snatched the designs from her hand and tossed them aside. The packet hit the floor and skidded under an antique coat closet. Then he unceremoniously swept her into his arms and carried her into the master bathroom. She couldn’t rouse herself enough to fight him whenhe stripped first her, and then himself, and pulled them both into the glassed-in shower stall. He turned the jets on high and she stood docilely beneath the blazing-hot torrent and let the water wash away all emotion.
“What happened?” he asked again, more gently thistime.
She didn’t even realize she spoke until she heard her voice echoing against the tile. “He didn’t want me, Sev. My father. He agreed to meet me tonight and then sent me away. He said he was sorry. Sorry!” She covered her face with her hands as she fought for control. “Sorry he had an affair with my mother. Sorry she became pregnant. Sorry Tina found out the truth. He said he couldn’t see me ever again.”
“He’s a fool.”
She dropped her hands and stared up at Sev. “What did I do? What did I do wrong?”
He hugged her fiercely. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not a damn thing. It’s them, honey. Something’s wrong with them. But you have me and you have the rest of the Dantes. And they flat-out adore you.” A raw ferocity coated his words. “We’ll be your family from now on.”
“When they find out we’re not really engaged, they won’t want me, either,” she felt obligated to point out, tears wellinganew.
“They will. Ipromise.” He continued to hold her close while the water poured down on them. “Easy, sweetheart. Let it all out. You’ll feel better if you do.”
Let what out? Didn’t he understand? She felt dead inside. Her father rejected her. She couldn’t say why she cared so much. After all, what did one more rejection matter after somany?
At long last, Sev shut off the water and left her dripping, naked and alone, in the middle of the tile floor. An instant later he reappeared with an armload of towels. He slung one around his waist and dropped another on her head, before swathing her from shoulders to knees in a third. Then he proceeded to rub her down with a briskness that caused her skin toglow.
“What are you doing?” she asked, emotional exhaustion leaving her only mildly curious.
“You’re in shock. Ineed to get you warm.”
She peered at him from beneath the towel. “I’m not shocked. I’m not even surprised. Iknew what would happen if Kurt and Tina found out the truth about me.”
He knelt at her feet, drying her with an impersonal touch that had her responding in far too personal a way. “You’d be rejected, just as you’ve been rejected so many times before.”
She shrugged, admitting, “I’m sort of used to it.”
“Yeah, Iknow. That’s what kills me.”
“Don’t let it bother you. It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore.”
“I shouldn’t ask. But I will.” He rocked back on his heels and stared up at her, his face set in grim lines. “Why doesn’t it bother you anymore?”
She spoke slowly, as though to a backward child. “Because I can’t feel.” Sheesh. Didn’t he get it? “When you can’t feel, it doesn’t hurt.”
For some reason that made him swear. When he’d run out of invectives, he planted a hand low on her back and ushered her from the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”
“Several, I think.”
“Hmm. And something to eat.”
Ten minutes later, she was curled up on the floor in front of a fire, dining on a selection of imported cheese and crackers while sipping the smoothest single-malt whiskey she’d ever tasted. Sev lounged beside her, atowel still knotted at his waist. She woke to her surroundings sufficiently to admire the miles of toned muscle rising above the soft white fleece.
Lord help her, but he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He hadn’t bothered to brush his hair, simply slicked it back from his face so it clung damply to the back of his neck in heavy, dark waves. His features reminded her somewhat of Primo, with the same rugged handsomeness and noble bearing. And, of course, the same stunning eye color. But the rest... Oh, my. The rest was pure Severo Dante.
She buried her nose in the crystal tumbler and took a quick sip. Unable to help herself, she peeked at him from over the rim. Memories from their nights together came storming back. They’d made love right here in front of the fire at least a half-dozen times. Several more times on the couch behind them when they’d been too impatient to traverse the short distance from there to the bedroom. Most nights she shared with him, apathway appeared, one strewn with clothes spreading from front door tobed.
