“You hate The Inferno, don’t you?” she asked miserably.
“I hate that it’s taken away my choice,” Constantine admitted. He corralled the intensity of his anger. “That it eats into my self-control and ability to determine my own destiny. That I am unable to decide yes, no or maybe, and am simply swept along like a helpless minnow plummeting over the rapids of a raging river.”
Gianna struggled to conceal her pain. All this time she’d thought he’d wanted her. And all this time he’d resented that want. The knowledge forced her to offer a way out. It was the only honorable course available to her. She took a step back so her closeness wouldn’t influence him. Ridiculous, really. If they’d felt the unrelenting pull when they’d been separated by six thousand miles of land and ocean, a few feet wasn’t going to change anything.
“Would you rather not feel The Inferno?” she forced herself to ask. “If I could undo it, take it away, would you want me to?”
Instead of jumping at the offer, to her surprise and relief he hesitated. “You can do this?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve never tried.”
“If you did, I would feel nothing for you?”
She shook her head, unable to give him an honest answer. “I have no idea. It’s possible.”
He stared down at his palm for several long minutes, digging his thumb into the center while he considered. “It’s hard for me to imagine not wanting you.” He focused on her once again. “What about you? If you took back The Inferno would you still feel it toward me?”
She bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling. “I think I’ll no longer feel it for you when I feel it for someone else. If I feel it for someone else.” Tears flooded her eyes and she blinked them away. She flat-out dreaded the day that would happen. She couldn’t even imagine loving someone more than Constantine. “All I know for certain is that I’ve never wanted anyone but you or felt The Inferno with any other man than you. Even so, I can’t make any promises for the future.”
He softened ever so slightly. “But then, that’s life, isn’t it? People fall in love and marry. For some it lasts a lifetime. For others…” He shrugged. “Not so long.”
Now for the tough question. “Do we keep going and see if it’ll work for us?” Her throat thickened and she had to force the words out. “Or do we put a stop to it while we still can?”
The question hung between them for a timeless moment. Then, “I can’t,” Constantine said. Just those two harsh words, sounding as though they’d been ripped from the deepest part of him. For an instant, her world ended until he added, “I can’t let you go.”
She moved without conscious thought, hurling herself into his arms. “Oh, Constantine.”
He lifted her face to his and kissed her. Deep. Urgent. Desperate kisses. Taking her under until nothing existed but him. His mouth. His touch. The relentless burn of The Inferno. She suspected they’d have taken that final, irrevocable step if her stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to growl. She broke away with a laugh, one he shared.
He tucked a lock of hair he’d loosened during their embrace behind her ear. “Okay, piccola. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll spend the next month keeping our promise to Primo. We’ll get to know each other. Then we’ll decide about The Inferno.”
She could scarcely contain her relief. She’d been so afraid he’d want to be released from the hold of The Inferno, despite the intense desire they shared. It said a lot that neither of them questioned the level of passion they felt for the other. At least that aspect of their relationship had never been in doubt.
If they managed to put an end to The Inferno, the fragile bud of trust developing between them would be nipped off. The slow growth of passion into something deeper and more permanent would be cut down before it had a chance to bloom. By moving forward that tiny bud would have the opportunity to flourish and she realized just how badly she wanted to see what sort of flower blossomed as a result. She had a feeling it would be spectacular beyond belief.