Dante's Honour-bound Husband

He really was insane. She couldn’t think of any other explanation for such irrational behavior. She heard the car door slam and he gunned the engine repeatedly before taking off. Something metallic banged and rattled along behind the Jag. Maybe the rear bumper or the muffler. It must have come loose because she heard it bounce along the road before clattering onto the shoulder as David roared away. An instant later, the truck flashed by and disappeared. No help from that direction.

She waited for endless moments, straining for any hint that David might have changed his mind and returned. Then she remembered her cell phone. She leaned her forehead against the tree trunk and fought back a hot rush of tears. She’d dropped her purse at some point during her escape, probably when she’d fallen down the incline. Gathering herself up, she dropped to the ground on hands and knees and began to search.

Inch by agonizing inch, minute by bone-freezing minute, she worked her way toward the depression, fanning her hands through the bracken littering the forest floor. More than anything, she wanted to curl into a ball and weep hysterically. She didn’t dare. She didn’t think she’d last through the night if she lost control now. But she was close, so close to giving up and giving in. Then her hand glanced off the slick beads of her purse.

Shock was setting in, along with a numbing cold. Her fingers shook so hard it took three attempts to open the stubborn clasp of her handbag. Even when she managed that, she could barely hold on to the phone. She didn’t have a hope in hell of punching out a number. It took her an instant to realize David must have switched her phone off while she’d been unconscious. It took her full concentration just to get it powered back on. The instant it flared to life, her cell phone gave a soft beep warning that her battery was running low.

No. Oh, no, no, no! This was not happening. She literally would not be able to handle it if her phone died now. How many times had she drained the battery because she’d forgotten to plug it in? She suspected that wouldn’t happen again—ever. And how ironic that David’s turning it off, no doubt to keep any incoming calls from waking her, had preserved the last of the cell’s battery power.

She managed to punch Redial with a trembling finger. An instant later Constantine answered.

“Gianna?”

She burst into tears. “Help.”

Four

Constantine raced into the service station at full speed and braked the Porsche to a screaming halt beneath one of the lighted gas pump overhangs.

He scanned the area. Nothing. No one.

Gianna’s cell had died midway through the call and he could only hope that he’d found the right gas station on the right road. The rain had subsided in the past fifteen minutes, easing off to a fitful mist. But that didn’t change the fact that she was out there somewhere in the wet and cold.

He tore open the car door and burst from the vehicle. “Gianna?” he shouted. His voice bounced and echoed off the concrete lot and buildings, an eerie sound in the stillness of the night. “Where are you, piccola?”

A movement across the street caught his eye and Gianna exploded from the undergrowth. She took one look at him, and his name escaped in a low, choked whimper. In the next instant, she lifted the drenched skirts of her gown to halfway up her thighs and raced barefoot across the street toward him, splashing haphazardly through the puddles in her path, the back of her dress making wet slapping noises against her bare legs. He froze for a split second, gut-wrenching relief fading in the face of horrified concern.

He barely recognized her. Gone was the elegant woman he’d seen earlier in the evening, replaced by a filthy, bedraggled waif. Debris covered her from head to toe, dirt ground into what little he could see of the torn sweep of her skirt. Scratches gouged the pale skin of her arms and legs. And her feet… He swore silently. Her poor, bare feet. He didn’t know how she could walk, let alone run. Maybe the shock kept her from feeling the pain.

He charged toward her, meeting her halfway. She flung herself into his arms and he wrapped her in an unbreakable hold, relieved beyond measure at finding her alive and safe. She burrowed against him, weeping and talking and shuddering so hard he couldn’t make out a word she said. Damn it to hell, she was freezing.