Chapter 3
Dante refilled his glass and drank the burning liquid in one gulp. That went well.
He heard the door open behind him and for an instant hope flared. Abby had come back. But when he turned it wasn’t Abby, only Carla.
“She left then?”
Dante shrugged. “She said no.”
Carla took his empty glass from his hand, refilled it, and sat on the couch, sipping his brandy. “Hardly surprising considering the act you pulled when she arrived. I’m amazed she didn’t slap your face and take off running. Your mistress, indeed. Don’t ever use me like that again.”
He grinned, filled another glass with brandy, and joined her on the couch.
“It worked, though. Did you see her face? She was jealous. She still has feelings for me.”
Carla eyed him suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t want her to love you. I thought you were going to make her a business proposition?” She raised a knowing eyebrow. “You are so full of it. ‘I don’t want love. I don’t need emotional complications. All I need is a son.’”
She parroted the words he’d told her at lunch last week, and they did sound ridiculous the way she said them, but even Carla wasn’t privy to his real fear and reason for wanting no emotional involvement. He didn’t want anyone to know, not even his best friend.
“Well,” she said, “what are you going to do now?”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
He’d had it all planned out. Of course he knew about her grandmother.
He also knew Abby would come to him. Where else could she go?
It was simple enough to tell the bank he wouldn’t cover another loan.
It allowed him to offer a straightforward transaction—money in exchange for her agreement to return to his life and help him fulfill the conditions of his father’s will.
“I should have married you. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess. ”
Carla almost choked on her brandy, spluttering drops down her shirt. “As if I’d have agreed to that. I’m with Abby on this one. Marriage should be to the one you love, and you don’t love me any more than I love you, well, not in that way. I love you like the brother I never had.”
He’d known Carla since he could walk. She was the daughter of his father’s financial adviser and they’d been friends since the age of eight when Carla beat him at tree climbing. Dante was scared of heights and Carla climbed higher than him, and she never let him forget it.
“Marriage to you would be perfect. No emotions involved. It would make my life much simpler.”
She punched his arm. “As if I’m here to make your life easier. In fact, I’m pleased Abby is such a challenge. You’ve had it far too easy where women are concerned. It’s time a female taught you that you can’t click your fingers and be obeyed.”
“I wouldn’t be in this mess if I had that sort of power. I tried to explain to her why she had to come back.”
“Had to? Oh my God, you didn’t tell her how you feel, did you? I bet you simply sat her down and started preaching at her about your father’s will and duty and the company.”
“I didn’t want her to misunderstand. You know me, I don’t do love.”
“Rubbish. You love your family. You love me. You can love. Why is it that you guard your heart so carefully from the one person you should be able to share everything with, your wife?” She leaned across and tapped his chest. “I know there are feelings deep in here. Don’t let what happened with Nicky keep the walls up.
Abby is not Nicky. Abby married you because she loves you.
A woman who could walk away from all this,” she swept her arm around the room, “is definitely not like Nicky. Surely you can see that?”
He nodded. Nicky, a woman he almost married, had only been after his money and title.
That’s what first attracted Dante to Abby.
She had no idea who he was. Deep down he knew Abby had loved him—he prayed she now didn’t.
He couldn’t afford to have any woman love him, not if history was anything to go on.
His father and grandfather had been dead before forty.
He was thirty-three. If Carla thought he feared love because of his spectacular failure with Nicky, then that suited his purpose well.
“What do you think I should do? It isn’t just me I’m worried about. If I don’t fulfill the terms of my father’s will, my family will lose everything, including this home. You know what that would do to Mother. Her life with my father is here.”
“If I were you, I’d be prepared to do a heap of groveling.
I’ve never met Abby before tonight. I was in the Antarctic when you met and raced to the altar in an obscene hurry, for which I have never forgiven you because I wanted to be a bridesmaid.
But I think she’s got a backbone. Forcing her won’t work.
You don’t want a wife who hates you, especially if you wish to have children.
A hostile marriage bed is not the answer. ”
“That’s the one place we never argued and were in perfect accord. I’m skilled enough to make her very willing to share my bed any time I please.”
“Oh, please. Men!”
“What?” He grinned. “She’s had nothing to compare me to.”
“She might now.”
His smile disappeared and he growled deep in his chest. “She hasn’t slept with anyone else.”
“My, my, that sounds like jealousy to me.”
They sat in companionable silence. Carla had always been there for him when he needed an understanding shoulder.
He would never have gotten through his father’s death, his brother’s death, having to take the reins of the company at only twenty, or Abby’s desertion without her.
And likewise he’d been there for her when things got rough for her at university, and when her father passed away. He linked his hand with hers.
“I have to get her to agree. There is no other choice.”
“You’re going to have to go to her, show her you really need her back and why, and not just because you want a son.
” Her smile died. “I know you care for her. You would never have married her otherwise. If it had been solely about the will, you would have married a local girl. Listen to your heart. You need someone like her in your life.”
“Someone like Abby?”
Carla rose, bent, and kissed his head. “A woman who won’t put up with your dictatorial ways. I won’t always be here. I’m off to the soon, remember? Give this marriage a chance. Do things differently than you did last time.”
At his frown, she added, “What’s the worst that could happen? You might fall in love with a woman who loves you. I can think of worse things.”
He could think of nothing worse.
Time was short. He felt the overriding need to secure his family, especially since his test results showed an abnormality. He might have less time than he imagined. He tried to push the fear back into the recesses of his mind. Giving in to fear was a weakness he would never entertain.
Dante’s gut coiled and he swore into the empty room. Abby. He needed Abby. If he waited until his divorce, another three years, he’d be thirty-six. That left very little margin of error to ensure a son before his father’s decree saw his family lose everything.
He grabbed the brandy decanter and headed for his bed. He would secure his family’s future. All he needed was for Abby to come home to him. His heart clenched at the thought. Bringing love into the transaction wouldn’t be fair.
As he slid between the cool sheets, a hint of fear entered his mind—he was likely a dead man walking.