Or why.
He understood all too well why she’d left these designs, designs she’d clearly been working on for years. She’d taken with one hand by giving the Bloom account to TH, and givenwith the other by presenting Dantes with these designs, dispensing a rough sort of justice. Only, she had more than compensated Dantes for what she’d given to Timeless Heirlooms.
She’d left him an incomparable gift, one that decimated the priorities he’d set in stone the day he’d first taken over from his father. Agift that made him realize there could only be one priority in his life from this point forward, and it wasn’t Dantes.
The gift she’d given him wasn’t the designs contained in her sketchpad. She’d left behind the gift of her heart.
Another monthpassed after Francesca’s conversation with Marco. Amonth of pain and sorrow and regret. During those weeks, she’d come to the realization that Sev’s feelings for her were truly dead, that The Inferno no longer burned for him the way it still burned forher.
Even when she received instructions to return to San Francisco on company business, she’d been unable to summon so much as a spark of hope. After all, miracles didn’t exist. She’d learned that at the tender of age of eight when she’d been discarded by the people she’d hoped would one day be her adoptive parents. She knew better than to expect the door to openand for her to be welcomed in. She’d been disappointed too many times. And Sev had made himself abundantly clear before sending her to New York. She no longer belonged to the Dante inner circle.
She crossed to the mirror and examined her dress. She’d been specifically asked by Sev’s assistant to wear red in order to fit in with the theme chosen for this evening’s festivities. What theme, no one had bothered to explain. So, Francesca picked the brightest, most glorious shade of red she couldfind.
The fitted bodice glittered with Swarovski crystal beads, while the chiffon skirt drifted outward from her hips to the floor in layers of handkerchief veils that lifted and swirled on an invisible breeze. After some debate, she chose to leave her hair down and it fell in heavy curls to shoulders bared by the halter neckline of thegown.
Dantes had sent over jewelry to wear for the evening. She’d never seen the pieces before, but they were positively breathtaking. The necklace and earrings were simple confections, as romantic as they were elegant, featuring some of the most stunning fire diamonds she’d ever seen. Based on the design of the engagement ring she’d worn for far too brief a time, she would bet these latest items were Primo’s creations, aswell.
After checking the mirror a final time, she forced herself to leave the relative safety of the suite before Sev sent out a search party. Not giving herself a chance to reconsider, she took the elevator to the lobby and crossed to the steps leading to the ballroom. She hesitated at the threshold, searching for a friendly face. Instantly a hum of desire turned her insides molten. She didn’t doubt the cause. Without any hesitation, she turned her head, keying in onSev.
How could she ever have imagined The Inferno had finished with them, or her love would dwindle over time? The urge to go to him, to touch him, to have him possess her mouth, her body, her very soul, slammed through her. It grew so strong, she could do nothing more than obey the silent imperative. She took a half-dozen steps in Sev’s direction before a sudden whisper of voices swelled, then faded, leaving behind a thunderous silence.
Her step faltered and she glanced around, only then realizing that while she wore flaming red, everyone else present was dressed in black and white. Only one other person also wore red, if only a scrap of the color. Sev’s pocket handkerchief was a rich shade of ruby that stood out against his black suit and white dress shirt. Feeling painfully conspicuous, she held her head high and finished wending her way towardhim.
She greeted him with a cool nod, while inside she thumbed with the hellish fires of desire. “Mr. Dante.”
A small smile played about his mouth. “Ms. Sommers. If you’ll come with me?”
He led the way to a small dais and approached the microphone. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming this evening to Dantes’ launch of a brand-new collection. With me is the creator of that collection, its heart and soul, Francesca Sommers.”
She froze in total shock. More than anything she wanted to grab Sev’s hand for support, to demand an explanation. She turned to look at him, and every thought slid from her head, except one. She still loved this man. Utterly. Totally. Completely. From this day until the end ofdays.
“What’s going on?” she pleaded.
“Smile, sweetheart,” he murmured. “They’re all here for you.”
“But . . . why?”
He stepped toward the microphone again. “Please enjoy your evening, as well as our grand launch of—” He swept his arms wide.“Dante’s Heart.”
From either side of the ballroom, models appeared, each wearing a different one of thedesigns Francesca had left behind for Sev to use. Designs she’d envisioned as a teenager. Designs she’d worked on for a full decade and never quite brought to life, until she’d opened her heart to love. To Sev’s love. Only then had she found the spark that turned her creative flame into a creative inferno.
She began to tremble in reaction. “You’re using my designs to relaunch Dantes into a full line of jewelry?” Why had he done this? What did itmean?
“Jewelry for the contemporary woman.” His hands settled on her shoulders and he gazed down at her with eyes more vivid than the sun. “You’re Dante’s Heart, my love. At least you’re this Dante’s heart.”
Applause exploded around them and excited chatter swelled as the assembled guests got their first look at the new line. Tears filled Francesca’s eyes. “I love you, Sev. More than you can possibly guess. I’m sorry, so sorry for everything—”
He stopped her words with a shake of his head. “Don’t apologize. That’s for me to do. Inever should have put you in such an impossible position. It won’t happen again. From now on you are, and always will be, first in my life.” He inclined his head toward the gathering. “Do you hear them, sweetheart?”
She said the first thing that popped into her head. “They’re clapping.”
He grinned. “How could they not? They’re witnessing something extraordinary.” He laced his hand with hers and something deep inside gave way, arending of barriers that had been erected when she’d been a frightened child of five. And in its place, the connection between them expanded and grew, rooting deep and permanent. “Come with me. We need to talk.”
She glanced toward the doors leading onto the balcony. “I think I know the perfect location.”
Together they left the dais, intent only on escape. Not that they were allowed such an easy out. Family came first, as Primo enveloped her in a huge bear hug, followed by a warm embrace from Nonna. Marco approached, sweeping her into a dizzying dip and laughing kiss full on the mouth. Then Lazz, who settled for a chaste peck on the cheek. And finally, Nicolò, who kissed the back of her hand with old-world gallantry.
Next, friends and associates impeded their progress, raving about the collection and using words that left Francesca choked with emotion. Words like “spectacular” and “unparalleled” and “generation defining.” Mere feet from escape, Francesca came face-to-face with the Fontaines.
