A smile exploded from her, wide and radiant. “Well, okay. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll get to know each other better.” She gestured toward the table with trembling hands and scolded, “What are you waiting for? Sit and eat. Breakfast is getting cold.”

The next two weeks flew by. Gianna and Constantine approached the whole “getting to know each other” agreement a trifle self-consciously. At least, that was how she felt about their initial dates, dates to dinner or the movies or a quiet evening at home.

Granted, once they were together for a short time, the awkwardness vanished. In its place passion exploded, a passion they struggled to contain. She wished she could say nothing more than sheer lust existed between them, but that would be a lie, Gianna conceded. The truth was, she liked Constantine.

She enjoyed his intellect, and his observations about life. She found his work fascinating, particularly the interior design branch of Romano Restoration since she utilized similar skills and abilities when planning an event or staging one of Dantes’ high-end receptions. Constantine also possessed a calmness she appreciated and a way of taking control of a situation by smoothing over any rough edges. And as much as she’d like to fault him for holding her at a firm distance, she couldn’t fault his sense of honor, not when it went to the very core of who he was as a man.

Sitting behind her desk, Gianna tapped a pen against the catering contract spread across the glass tabletop while she analyzed her relationship with Constantine. She didn’t even mind that he tended to be a bit of a control freak. Even there, they meshed well. She might be a bit scattered at times and possess a strong tendency to act on impulse, particularly in her personal life—David being a prime example. But when it came to her job, she was detail-oriented and on top of things. Her work at Dantes demanded it.

The phone at her elbow rang and she answered it absently, perking up when Constantine’s sexy accent sounded in her ear. “How is your day going, piccola?” he asked.

Mmm. Just hearing his voice made her want to melt right into her chair. “Better now that you’ve called,” she admitted.

“Then I’m sorry to say that I’m about to make your day worse.”

“Tonight?” she guessed with a disappointed sigh.

A light tap sounded at her door and Juice, a longtime family friend, stuck his gleaming bald head into her office. He’d first been adopted by the Dantes when he’d worked for her brother’s private security firm, before Luc had taken over Dantes Courier Service. Juice specialized in background checks, finding what others didn’t want found, and all things stored in cyberspace. Occasionally he helped the Dantes with his expertise. Gianna was hoping this would be one of those times. She waved him in and toward a seat near her desk.

“Do you need to change our plans?” she asked Constantine.

“I have to cancel them, I’m afraid. Some last minute alterations to a proposal.”

“Oh, no,” she said sympathetically. “Not the Diamondt account, I hope.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But, you’ve worked so hard on that one. And the plans you’ve designed for the restoration are gorgeous. What’s the problem?”

“A family disagreement. Apparently there’s a son-in-law who owns enough of his late wife’s share of the family business that they need his approval on my restoration project before going to contract.”

“It would have helped if they’d told you about him beforehand.”

“My thoughts, exactly. Now I am forced to make a number of alterations that I hope will satisfy all the various parties. I may even have to fly up there to meet with Moretti in order to resolve the problem.”

“Moretti? Is that the son-in-law’s name?” For some reason it rang a distant, rather muffled, bell. “Sounds like the Diamondts and the Dantes have something in common. We both have our little family squabbles that require a firm hand to resolve. In our case, Primo’s hand.”

“Not even close,” he assured her. “The Dantes adore each other and squabble accordingly. The Diamondts put me more in mind of the Borgias. Unfortunately they don’t have a Primo to straighten them out, which means they’re all jockeying for control.”




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