She smiled sweetly. “I assume that means you want prior approval on every decision I make. How deliciously caveman of you.” She swept her hand downward to indicate her pantsuit. “Would you care to approve my clothes, for instance? My shoes? What about my hair?”
“That’s not what I mean and you damn well know it,” he growled. “Even Luc acknowledged that I should have been informed of what you had planned for today. You admitted that the only reason you didn’t was that you knew I would object. So don’t act as though I’m coming on like some sort of Neanderthal.” He leaned in. “Imagine if the situation had been reversed and I’d been the one in that house. If Juice and your brothers had kept our plan from you. Admit it. You would have been furious.”
For an instant, he thought she’d argue the point. Then she blew out a sigh and nodded. “No, you’re right. I should have told you, just as I would have expected you to tell me.”
A smile built across his face. It was times like this that she blew him away. Her fairness. The frank way she admitted her mistakes. They were just a few of the qualities he adored about her. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still sort of new at this whole team thing we have going,” she admitted.
“As am I.” He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her up for a slow kiss. “Look on the bright side. D’Angelo is in jail and unlikely to get out anytime soon. I was just awarded a huge contract. And you may have a new cousin.”
She grimaced. “I’m not sure there’s a bright side to your last point.”
“Time will tell.” He released her. “Now that we’re a team, how do you suggest we handle the possibility?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Should you tell Primo?”
“Tell him that his son may have fathered a child out of wedlock?” She shuddered. “Scary thought.”
“Do you want to think about it for a while?”
Her eyebrows shot skyward. “What? Not act impulsively for once? Me?”
He smothered a smile. “I know it’ll be a challenge.”
“In this case, not so much.” She frowned unhappily. “To be honest, I would like to think about it for a while.”
Constantine glanced again at the exit Gabe Moretti had taken. “I have a feeling you won’t be the only one.”
The next several weeks passed with lightning speed. Gianna should have been blissfully happy, but a single shadow continued to hang over her. Not once in all the time she’d been with Constantine had he said those vital three words she’d shared with him the night they’d made love for the first time: I love you. He wanted her. No question there. The Inferno burned and connected them in ways that suggested love and a lifelong commitment. But real love? Natural love? Non-Inferno influenced love?
She just couldn’t be certain.
How much of his desire and commitment to marry her were based on The Inferno and feeling honor-bound to marry her because they’d made love? And how much of it was based on true feeling? It was definitely a conversation they needed to have before the wedding.
But as the days and weeks passed, Gianna couldn’t figure out a way to discuss the problem with him. Or perhaps she couldn’t find the right words because, despite facing all of her other fears, she couldn’t bring herself to face this one. She couldn’t bear the idea of his admitting to her that he didn’t love her, that it was all due to The Inferno.
If that’s what he believed, she’d be forced to cancel their wedding, something her entire family—not to mention Constantine—would oppose. Oppose? She laughed without humor. She knew her family. And though they were the most loving and generous people she’d ever known, they wouldn’t hesitate to drag her to the altar and find a priest who’d marry them regardless of whether or not she said “I do.” Considering she and Constantine had experienced The Inferno, they wouldn’t give her any other choice. If they knew the two of them had slept together… Well, forget it. The wedding would happen faster than the sizzle of The Inferno.