“That’s going to happen, anyway.”
“But—”
“Why the hell are you defending him?” Constantine nearly growled.
Tears threatened. “I’m not defending him. I am not defending him,” she repeated. It took her a moment to gather herself. “Do you really think that if I went to the police it would help? I have no proof. It’ll be my word against his. And the publicity—” Her voice broke and she swiveled to stare out the window. After a moment, she said, “I did wreck his Jag. You have no idea how much pleasure that gives me, knowing I did that much.”
Well, hell. “How did you do that?”
“I crashed it into a tree.”
“I thought you didn’t drive.”
“After my first driving experience, which consisted of smashing Luc’s precious Ferrari, I don’t. I haven’t had the nerve.” A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Thus, the tree with David’s Jag.”
“So, the two times you’ve ever driven a car—expensive cars, no less—you wrecked them both?”
“Two for two,” she confirmed.
Huh. He made a mental note to check his insurance coverage…and up it. “How did you even manage to get behind the wheel?”
“I waited until he got out to pump the gas, then locked the doors, climbed behind the wheel and took off. Granted, it was a short trip. But I got far enough away that I could escape into the woods before he caught up with me.”
Constantine couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“To be honest, I’d have preferred a much less amazing night” was her heartfelt reply.
“That makes two of us.” To his relief, she’d stopped shivering. “Put your seat back and go to sleep. You’ll feel better.”
For some reason, his suggestion made her flinch. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to stay awake.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
“I just…” She shuddered. “I can’t go to sleep. Not after…”
He caught an undercurrent of emotion ripping through her voice—fear—and his hands clenched around the steering wheel. No matter what it took or how long the wait, he would see to it that d’Angelo suffered for his actions. That he never had the opportunity to take advantage of another woman. Constantine hadn’t been in a position to ensure it last time. This time he had all the resources he needed. Plus, he had the Dante family behind him. Or he would once they heard his version of what transpired this evening.
She spoke again after a brief silence. “There’s something that keeps nagging me about this whole thing.”
“Really? There’s quite a bit about it that’s nagging me,” Constantine retorted.
“Why would David want to force me to the altar?”
That stopped him and Constantine turned her question over in his mind, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“He said that he was…” Again the hesitation. “He was compromising me in order to force me into marriage. But I can’t figure out why he’d want to do that. What’s in it for him?”
Constantine’s frown cleared. “That’s easy enough. I suspect it has to do with money.”
Gianna shook her head. “That can’t be it. David has money coming out of his ears.”
“Don’t be so sure. According to my father, there have been rumors circulating about the source of all that money.”
“You’re kidding. What sort of rumors?”
“I don’t have all the details. But I intend to find out.”
“Funny.”
Constantine shot her a swift look. “You find something amusing in all this?”
She yawned. “Just that if you’re right, David only wanted to marry me because I have money.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “And that’s the only reason you wouldn’t.”
“Not the only reason, piccola,” he said softly.
But despite her decision to remain awake, she’d fallen asleep, fully relaxing for the first time. She remained curled in a ball, snuggled deep into the leather seat. Even with the shallow cuts marring her long legs, they were sleek and shapely beneath the trailing tails of his tux jacket. She’d slicked her damp hair behind her ears, but the humidity caused it to escape in a riot of soft brown and gold curls, framing her scratched face. She looked pale, drawn and exhausted.