Elia took a delicate sip from a tiny cup of espresso before announcing, “Constantine Romano has moved to San Francisco. He opens the doors to Romano Restoration any day now. Apparently he organized the transition all the way from Italy.”
Gianna stiffened, grateful she had her back turned to her mother. She should have anticipated this. Foolish of her not to, all things considered. “That’s rather unexpected, isn’t it?”
“Do you think so?” Elia asked softly. “Somehow he’s gotten his entire operation up and running without any of us being the wiser.” She lifted a delicate eyebrow. “I’m guessing as a surprise for a certain someone?”
Gianna sighed. Her mother was the only person who knew what she’d experienced when she and Constantine first met. She’d been very careful to keep it from everyone else, knowing her family would interfere if they knew. “Yes, Mamma, it is. What we had, or rather, what I thought we had ended a long time ago.”
“The Inferno doesn’t end, chiacchierona.”
“Maybe it does.”
Gianna swung around to face her mother. What would Elia say if she knew the whole truth about The Inferno? If she’d heard what Gianna had when Uncle Dominic explained the facts to Aunt Laura? Or watched what he’d done to rid them both of The Inferno? She’d never dared tell anyone, terrified that she’d see other relationships ruined as a result of her revelation. If the rest of her family believed in The Inferno with all their hearts, maybe they’d never discover what her aunt and uncle had…
That The Inferno wasn’t forever.
Gianna hesitated, still unwilling to tell her mother the entire truth. She chose her words with care. “Maybe it’s different because I’m a woman instead of a man,” she suggested. “Maybe it only went one way and he doesn’t feel what I do.”
“If that were so, Constantine wouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe I can take The Inferno back,” she dared to suggest.
Elia simply laughed. “That’s not possible. The Inferno is forever.”
Oh, but it wasn’t. Gianna set her chin. “It doesn’t matter if Constantine is here now. It’s too late.”
A mother’s wisdom gleamed in Elia’s dark eyes. “That’s your pride speaking, not your heart.”
“I’ve moved on,” Gianna insisted, wincing at the defensive edge underscoring her words. “I’m dating David d’Angelo now.”
“Well, he is Italian…like Constantine,” her mother conceded. “And comes from a good Fiorentini family, though not one anywhere near as noble as the Romanos.”
“Maybe not, but they’re respected bankers.”
The family was even receiving some sort of banking award in another few months. As for David, he possessed stunning good looks. Granted, they were more classical than swashbuckling. More attractive even than her brother, Rafe, whom the family called the “pretty Dante.” Not that David could help his looks.
As for his personality, he couldn’t be nicer. Even if Primo had muttered untuoso under his breath, which had bothered Gianna no end since she didn’t consider David the least unctuous. Nonna adored him, which counted for a lot. David was intelligent, respectful and amusing, despite possessing the faintest air of entitlement.
And if he hadn’t told her he was Italian by birth, she’d never have guessed it by his accent, perhaps as a result of his studying abroad for so many years. Now that she thought about it, other than his intelligence he was as different from Constantine as a bird of paradise from a panther.
“David’s not like Constantine,” Elia murmured, the comment an uncomfortable echo of Gianna’s own thoughts.
“He is in some ways,” she argued. “But the important point here is that I like him very much. That’s all that matters, right?”
Elia made a face and set her cup and saucer aside. “Like. What an insipid word. Would you really trade an earth-shattering passion for a tepid ‘like’?”
“It’s safer,” Gianna whispered.
Safer not to surrender to the dangerous emotions flaring back to life. Safer not to allow the more impetuous side of her nature free rein. Safer to like a nice guy than to love someone as dangerous to her emotional stability as Constantine Romano.