He lifted away from her, ignoring her attempts to pull him back into her embrace. Then he waited, allowing the tension to build. Stillness settled over them both, their breath harsh in the silence of the night. Then, slowly, oh, so slowly, he cupped her head. Little by little he leaned in until their lips were no more than a breath apart.
Then he erased even that bit of space. He kissed her, eradicating all memory of everything and everyone who’d gone before. He took his time, the kiss slow and potent and deliciously thorough. She responded, helpless to resist. And why should she? She wanted this as much as he did. Maybe even more. She’d waited for months. Nearly two full years. She refused to wait another minute.
“Make love to me,” she urged.
To her distress, he shook his head. “That’s not going to happen, Gianna.”
“But—”
He stopped her with another kiss that had every thought seeping from her head except what he was doing to her and how he did it. “D’Angelo drugged you tonight,” he murmured between leisurely, sampling tastes. “It’s likely that you’re still feeling the effects.”
“I’m not. I swear I’m not.”
“You were drugged, attacked. Terrorized. Still in shock.” She wished she could deny his catalog of events, but she couldn’t. “And you just woke from a nasty nightmare. That makes you vulnerable, and I don’t take advantage of vulnerable women.”
“Even if the vulnerable woman in question says it’s okay? Because that’s what I’m saying. Okay. Go right ahead. I’m all yours.” He was killing her. “Please, Constantine.”
“Would you have me compromise my sense of honor?” he countered.
She closed her eyes. “Considering how I feel right now? Yes, yes I would.” An inner debate raged, one that filled her with frustration. Damn it, she’d been a Dante for too long, knew all too well the importance of honor. She continued to debate for another full minute while he waited her out. Then she caved. “When you put it like that…”
“There’s no other way to put it.”
She couldn’t argue, not about an issue as serious as a man’s honor. It wasn’t something the Dantes took lightly, any more than the Romanos. “Will you still hold me?”
“That I can do.” He covered her again and settled in beside her. Pulling her into his arms, he just held her. “Better?”
“Frustrating.”
He chuckled. “That makes two of us.” He kissed her with unmistakable finality. She could still feel the edge of desire, banked, but white-hot around the edges. “Go back to sleep. And this time, try not to press my buttons.”
She yawned. “Push your buttons. And I wasn’t.”
“No? I seem to remember you throwing David in my face. You didn’t just press my button. Or even push it. You kicked it with those spiked heels you love to wear.”
“Maybe.” Honesty forced her to concede, “Okay, definitely.”
“Don’t do it again. Not with d’Angelo.”
She looked at him curiously. “David said the two of you had a history.”
Tension speared across the muscles in Constantine’s jaw. “Is that what he called it?”
“What would you call it?”
“Funny. I’d have said you were in a better position to answer that question.”
She stiffened. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“How would you describe what he attempted to do tonight?”
She didn’t want to say the word. Couldn’t. It would make it too real. She moistened her lips. “After you rescued me… You said he’d done this before. I’d forgotten until just now.”
“The drug will do that to you.”
“Who else did he drug? Who did he do this to before me?”
“Ariana.”
Five
Gianna bolted upright in bed. “Oh, no. Oh, Constantine, no. Not Ariana.”
“It’s all right. I found her—”
She burst into tears. “How could it be all right? He…he…” She fought to get the words out. “She would have been terrified when she returned from Italy and saw me with him. I’d never have gone out with him if I’d known. And I’d have made him pay for hurting her. I swear I would have. Somehow. Someway.”