He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Weren’t your aunt and uncle planning to divorce shortly before their deaths?”
“Yes, but the two definitely felt The Inferno for each other. Even though they were Inferno soul mates, it didn’t work out for them.” She set the plates on the table, avoiding his gaze. “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain to you. Experiencing The Inferno isn’t a guarantee of a happy marriage. That’s why I want to make sure we’re compatible before we take our relationship any further.”
“Che cavolo!” He snagged her chin, forcing her to look at him, practically vibrating with fury. “Are you telling me you’ve inflicted me with The Inferno, but we may never know true happiness together?”
Misery invaded her gaze. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Seven
Gianna winced at the combination of outrage and anger that burned in Constantine’s expression.
“Why would you do this to us?” he demanded in Italian.
She allowed a hint of her own temper to show. “You keep saying that like I had a choice. I didn’t and I don’t. It just happens, okay? The Inferno chooses, not me.”
“That is a very convenient gift,” he accused. “All you have to say to escape blame is it’s not your fault. It’s The Inferno.”
“It isn’t my fault. And it was The Inferno.” She confronted him, hands on her hips. “Do you really think I took one look at you in all your magnificence and decided… Yeah, let’s zap him for the rest of our lives?”
“I don’t know.” He stuck his truly magnificent nose in her face, speaking between gritted teeth. “Did you?”
She wanted to scream in frustration. “We were meeting for the first time when it happened! Until then, we’d never spoken one word to each other. Why would I want to saddle myself with a man I don’t even know?” She held up her hand before he could offer another sarcastic comment. “Don’t you get it? The Inferno works the way it works. I’m as much a victim of it as you are. Do you think I like having decisions made for me? That I like having some weird flash of heat and electricity decide that you’re the one?”
“Considering you would have chosen d’Angelo over me, maybe you’re better off trusting The Inferno,” he shot back.
“Oh! That is beyond low—”
He cut her off without hesitation, all the while struggling to rein in his temper. “Let me see if I have this straight. You and I have felt The Inferno.”
She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Yes.”
“But someday you may shake another man’s hand and feel The Inferno for him.” Constantine had keyed in on the one part of this entire situation that she hated the most. “I will only want you and no other woman for the rest of my days. You may Inferno any number of men. Is that correct?”
Her cheeks warmed and she nodded. “I think so, yes.”
Until this moment she hadn’t realized how much he resented The Inferno or what had happened between them. Of course, she’d grown up with The Inferno, he hadn’t. She’d heard Primo and Nonna relate the “fairy tale” of their first meeting from the time she was a toddler, had seen the joy and happiness between her own parents, just as she’d witnessed the misery Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura had been unable to conceal. It made for a confusing picture.
Her cousins and brothers had never believed in the family “blessing” or “curse” as they’d jokingly called it. They’d held tight to their lack of faith right up until it had happened to them. Throughout it all, Gianna had stood on the sidelines watching while, one by one, cousin and brother had fallen and fallen hard. And she’d kept her mouth firmly shut about what she’d learned on her thirteenth birthday, not wanting to put a damper on all that delirious “forever after” Inferno love.
If they only knew.
The years had passed and she’d waited to see whether a female Dante was capable of feeling The Inferno, of sharing it with her chosen mate, not quite sure whether or not she wanted the experience. Then it happened. What she hadn’t foreseen was Constantine’s adverse reaction. Her indignation faded.