Wife By Force: International Billionaires II: The Italians (20 page)

“Really.” Her expression was bright with amusement.

“A man was…offensive. To the host and to me.”

“Oh, no.” A look of mocking concern crossed her face. “Did he break one of your rules?”

She was teasing him. “Lara.”

“Go on.”

“I told him of my displeasure and he stopped.”

“I bet he ran from the house in total terror.”

“I believe he decided it would be appropriate to leave at that time.” He looked out over the Florence cityscape and hoped like hell this was the end of this topic.

“Dante. You had a temper tantrum.”

“I think we’ll have to disagree about this subject.”

Another feminine chuckle came from across the table. “We disagree about a lot of things, why not this one?”

Her words hit him in the stomach and it sank like a stone. “Why do you insist on seeing us at odds all the time?”

Silence fell over the terrace. He continued to focus on the lights of the city, not willing to confront his wife’s lingering hostility anymore. She had a right to her anger, he’d acknowledged this and had been willing to overlook it until it faded. Suddenly, however, it seemed to him as if he was fighting a losing battle. She would never forgive him, would never see this marriage as a good one.

The ache inside him turned raw with grief.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled. “I was teasing.”

Glancing at her, he tried to keep a grip on his emotions. “Your words hurt sometimes.”

A tiny gasp answered his bald statement.

He shifted his attention back to the night sky and cringed. Why had he said that? What foolishness had come from his mouth?

“Dante.” She moved with soft intent and he found himself with a lapful of woman. Taking his head in her hands, she stared right into his eyes. Her honeyed stare was deep and golden and filled with remorse. “Sometimes I forget.”

“Forget?” he muttered, trying not to focus on her mouth.

“I forget you are a man, not a machine.”

The ache grew inside him. “
Jesu
, Lara. The things you say.”

“I know you are a man,” she whispered. “I know, now, you have a heart.”

Closing his eyes, he accepted her words. They were a balm to the ache, yet he wondered if it was enough. The ache seemed determined to persist in his gut.

“Please forgive me.”

Would she ever forgive him, though? The question pushed at his mouth, but a curdling fear stopped him from voicing it. What if she said no? What if he had to confront the fact he’d ruined their marriage before it even began? What would he do if this ache became his entire reality?

Dante Casartelli lived for risks. Thrived on them. But this risk was one he found himself unable to take.

“Dante?”

“I forgive you.” Placing a careful kiss on her mouth, he closed his heart to his fear.

The kiss deepened into a soft exchange of lips and tongues. A swirl of emotion he refused to define.

She broke their embrace and smiled at him with determination. “We’re fine?”

“
Si
.”

“Okay.”

An awkward silence fell between them.

“I guess I’ll go and finish my dinner.” With one last glance of inquiry, she got off his lap and returned to her chair.

He wanted to push all this aside, he wanted desperately to get back to where they’d been earlier in the evening, laughing and enjoying. Suddenly, he remembered. Thank God for his newly acquired shopping skills.

“I have a present for you.” Lifting a flat rectangular package from under his chair, he pushed it across the table.

“Another one?” His wife shook her head, but stared at the brightly wrapped gift with interest. One of her fingers played with the long pink bow perched on top of the box. “You give me too much.”

“Hold onto that thought.”

She laughed again.

Taking a deep breath in, he released every emotion inside him with the exception of one: pure enjoyment of her company.

“Go on.” He sipped his wine. “Open it.”

Her clever fingers made quick work of the fancy wrapping he’d ordered at the shop. She opened the box and rustled through the tissue paper, finally pulling the present out. “How beautiful.”

Eyeing the confection she held up for her view, he congratulated himself. He’d spotted the pink lace camisole and matching thong in a trendy boutique he’d walked by on the way to a meeting. He’d thought of Lara. The meeting had been a total disaster, his concentration shot. By the expression on his wife’s face, it was worth it.

“You like it?”

“I’m gaining quite a collection.” She pulled the camisole to her torso, checking the fit. The fit would be perfect. He knew her dimensions, all her dimensions, by heart. During the honeymoon visits to town, he’d figured out his new wife had a thing for lingerie. He’d been happy to supply her every desire in this area.

“I have great affection for your collection,” he murmured.

Another laugh. Her gaze met his, the honey molten and hot. “Why don’t I go and try this on. See if you approve.”

One laugh. One look. And he was hotter than he’d ever been with another woman. “I think this is the best idea I’ve heard today.”

S
he was going
to be late to meet Daniella.

Lara glanced at the bedroom clock and groaned. Where had the morning gone? Dante had awakened her early, complaining he couldn’t help himself if she insisted on lying on him naked. A man had only a certain amount of control. When he left and knowing she didn’t have to be at the school today, she’d slipped back into sleep.

The thought of her husband and his randy behavior made her smile. She tugged the top drawer of her oak dresser open. Sorting through her collection, she chose a simple cream bra and matching panties. Her hand snagged on a plastic container sunk deep in the froth of silk. She stilled.

The pills.

It was time for her to renew the prescription.

She stared at the small box as if it would answer the dilemma facing her.

But it didn’t.

No one had the answer to this other than herself. Did she listen to the strong voice of resistance to taking the pills any longer, urging her to trust him like he said he trusted her? Could she let go of the remaining resentment she still felt for her husband?

No. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

How could she possibly forgive him for forcing her hand? Her pride rebelled at the thought, yelling at her to keep going, keep making her point, keep sticking to her guns.

Slamming the drawer shut, she marched into the bathroom pulling on her bra as she went. There wasn’t time to think about this right now. What was the use in thinking about it, when she had no clear answers?

Within fifteen minutes, her hair was brushed into a simple ponytail, her minimal makeup was on and the green linen dress looked pretty good with her new pair of tan sandals. Calling down to the desk, she ensured the car and driver were waiting at the door when she exited.

The driver jumped out and with a flourish, opened the limo door.

“
Grazie
,” she muttered, grimacing as she climbed in. It would be so easy to take the bus, yet Dante was obstinate. He’d even made a comment this morning before he kissed her goodbye, making her promise to take the limo. Somehow, she’d never gotten around to fighting about the security. Something she should probably still be angry about as well.

Shouldn’t she?

The bright summer sun splashed its color on the slanted tile roofs, tall stone walls, and tubs of flowers as they drove into Florence. Glancing at her watch, she calculated she’d only be a few minutes late to the bistro.

“Lara.” Daniella’s hand started waving when she spotted her coming through the door. “Over here.”

Weaving around the small tables, she arrived in the corner and hugged her friend before leaning down and placing a kiss on two little dark-haired heads. “They’re growing so fast.”

“
Si
.” With an expert hand, the young mother snatched away a waving spoon and managed to insert it, along with mashed banana, into a small mouth. “I’m sorry I had to bring them with me, but the nanny is sick today.”

“No problem at all.” Slipping into the seat opposite, she ran her hand across the bobbing head next to her, enjoying the feel of dark curls spilling through her fingers. The baby gave her a toothy grin. “I love seeing them.”

“I was hoping to have a long chat with you about how it’s going.” Daniella frowned. “But with these two around…”

Sending thanks to the heavens for small children and the chaos they often created, Lara breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been dreading Daniella’s questions since they’d made the date four days ago. She knew what her friend wanted. Details. Details on the honeymoon. Details on the marriage. Details on what she felt about her brother. Even though Dante was her older brother, Dani would have no trouble sticking her nose in.

However, there were no details to give her. She couldn’t describe a honeymoon that was half tension and half passion. She couldn’t give details of a marriage that at one moment seemed destined for certain disaster and at another moment seemed to be her dream come true. How could she possibly describe the details?

“Lara?”

Pinning a wide smile on her lips, she focused on her friend’s worried inspection. “I’m here, I’m here.”

“You weren’t a moment ago.” Dani didn’t lose her frown. “You looked as if wherever you were was not a good place to be. What’s wrong?”

With perfect timing, little Alonso screamed, attracting not only his mother’s attention but a harassed waiter’s as well.

Thank God.

Distractions continued through the lunch, much to Lara’s relief, and quite clearly, much to Daniella’s frustration. The two one-year-olds were not to be denied. They were the center of attention, from the surrounding tables to the admiring staff. When both of them decided to scream at the same time, she laughed at the harried expression on her friend’s face and deftly lifted a crying Isabella into her arms.

The little girl immediately quit her noise, looking at her with a satisfied grin and two big black eyes.

Two dark eyes that reminded her of similar ones set in a very masculine face.

The baby gurgled with laughter and her eyes lit with an inner glow. The same glow she’d seen in Dante’s eyes when he gazed across the table at her last night, before she opened her mouth and said something stupid.

“Don’t worry,” her friend said from across the table. “You’ll have one soon. One of your very own.”

An ache burst in the center of her chest. She didn’t glance across at her friend. Dani would certainly catch the painful confusion lancing through her system, if not in her eyes, then in her expression. “Isabella is going to be a looker,” she managed.

Her mother laughed. “I’ve told Carlo he better be prepared to guard the door in a few years. He told me with my over-protective older brother around, he had no doubt his daughter would be well-taken care of.”

Lara risked a glance, filled with wry recognition. “Talk about over-protective. Your brother insists on having a bodyguard go everywhere with me.”

Daniella chuckled. “You get used to it.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“My oldest brother doesn’t think so.” Her friend’s tone was matter-of-fact. “He knows best.”

A ripple of annoyance went through her. “He doesn’t always know best.”

A dark brow rose, a female replica of Dante's. “I detect a bit of—”

“Never mind,” she said, trying to steer clear of any pointed questions. “I just find it annoying having people following me all the time.”

“I don’t even notice it anymore.” Bouncing her son on her knees, Dani smiled. “Frankly, with the babies now, I like it. You’ll feel differently when you have children. You’ll see.”

Again the punch of confusion and pain.

A shock of realization followed.

The bolt rammed away the pain, filling her body with a deep awareness.

She wanted Dante’s child.

Staring at the baby in her arms, she slowly let the knowledge seep into her soul. She wanted his child in her arms. She wanted to hold a little boy with his eyes. A little girl with his dark curls.

What happened to the intense anger she’d held inside her mere weeks ago? What happened to her feelings of rage at being forced into something she wanted nothing to do with? Scrambling through her thoughts and emotions, she found none of it, none of the anger or rage. How could she possibly have forgiven him?

“I better get going before the babies start to fuss even more.” Daniella stood and began to load the large buggy by her side. “Time for their nap.”

Lara helped put the kids into the seats, all the while her mind buzzing in a hundred directions. “Take care.” She hugged her friend goodbye.

“We’ll do this again soon,” Dani smiled with a determined glint in her eye. “Next time without the twin terrors.”

She trundled off, the twins waving their hands in the air.

Slumping in her chair, Lara gazed down into her half-empty cappuccino. The swirl of questions in her mind found no answers in the swirl of cream in the coffee. At least, no answers she wanted to confront. She needed some space, some freedom. If she could walk away from everything for a while, then surely, she would find some resolution.

Wouldn’t she?

Staring through the restaurant window, she watched as Daniella bundled her children into a limo identical to hers. Watched as she greeted Lara’s driver and bodyguard, who waited patiently for her to come out and get into her car—exactly as her husband had instructed her to do earlier today.

A simmer of the old rebellion bubbled up. Maybe she did want his child now, but still, he was dictatorial and demanding. His attitude brought back the old emotions and frustrations she’d experienced with Gerry. The echo of her past seemed inevitably tied to her current marriage. The whole thing frustrated her. This wasn’t right, she knew it, yet she couldn’t seem to stop the old feelings from welling inside her.

And yes, it rubbed her raw that she was sliding under his spell, enough to forgive him for what was, truly, unforgivable. Gerry had forced her to do many things, but at least he’d never forced her into marriage.

Dante’s baby.

The slice of need stopped her cold. Thinking, feeling, was getting her nowhere. Standing with an abrupt jerk, she grabbed her purse and headed for the bathrooms at the rear of the restaurant. She splashed some cool water on her face before staring into the mirror.

Forgive him.

No, she couldn’t. She needed to stand up for herself, needed to assert her continued independence in some way. She would renew that prescription. She would win this battle for her freedom. She would remember what he’d done to her.

Her stare blanked at the thought of winning.

Would it be winning to be free from him forever? Would it be winning to never have his child? Would she be happy if she won this war?

No. She wouldn’t.

Turning away from the knowledge in her eyes, she stormed from the bathroom and bumped into an elderly man.

“
Scusi
,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on him as he trundled down the hall to the men’s lavatory.

Another door at the end of the hallway caught her attention.

A wild hare of a thought crossed her mind. Before she could think it through, she found herself walking down the hall and pushing the door open.

Bright sunlight and loud laughter greeted her. The back door led to the alley. Three waiters stood on the brick pavement, sharing stories and cigarettes. She stepped out into the sun.

Into freedom.

She’d only take an hour. Just an hour of freedom from the turmoil inside her. Once she was away, she’d call her driver and let him know. He’d argue, but what could he do if she was already gone?

Glancing up the alley, she spotted a familiar limo parked at the curb. Quickly, she strode the other way, waving at the waiters’ laughing jests as she passed. If she could get around the corner, she’d be out of sight and away from her husband's surveillance. At least, for a while.

Within minutes, she’d lost herself in the quirky stalls and colorful workshops that filled the central market area. Breathing in deeply, she caught the tang of leather from the nearby shoe store mixed with the sweet smell of rising dough from the pastry shop she passed. She risked a glance back and let out a relieved sigh. They weren’t following.

For the first time in weeks, she was free.

Dante was going to be mad if he ever heard of this.

He probably wouldn’t find out. And so what if he did?

She was an adult. A functioning, fully capable adult.

This was her time to break free and enjoy. Striding through the market, she admired a glistening row of gold rings, and then walked through a tiny bookstore overflowing with a magical assortment of old and new texts. Within fifteen minutes, she’d managed to walk away from the swirl of shops, and headed toward a place that was a favorite haunt of hers before she’d married. The small rose garden park was only a short walk from her school, and she hadn’t visited it since coming home from her honeymoon. Neither Dante nor his bodyguards would know of this peaceful place and how important it was to her.

Indulging herself, she bought some gelato and settled on a stone bench situated in the middle of the garden. A soft wind wafted the scent of the roses around her, as she dipped into the icy curls of
arrabiato
. Savoring the spicy chocolate, she closed her eyes and tried to still her mind from anything except enjoying the soothing surroundings and the rich taste of cream on her tongue.

The distraction didn’t help. Sighing, she gave herself permission to look at what was right in front of her, beating in her heart.

Okay. She wanted to stay with her husband. She wanted to make this marriage work. And she wanted his children. All of those realizations were a bit hard to stomach, but she could do it. Why reject what she really wanted? She could do the pragmatic thing and accept the reality of her feelings. Her desires.

No problem.

Lara finished the last of the gelato and tossed the plastic dish and spoon into the trash. Settling back on the bench, she watched a pair of pigeons flirt and dance around the boughs of a large oak tree.

This was a problem.

Because she hadn’t confronted one last feeling overwhelming all the others.

She loved Dante.

She loved him
.

She sucked in her stomach and then slowly let it out, letting the last feeling slip into her heart and soul. She loved him. She loved his rare smile, his deep laugh, his dry humor. She loved his body and how he made her body feel. She loved his old-fashioned gallantry, even when it sometimes annoyed her. She loved his intelligence, pride, and honor.

That was why she would finally accept the consequences: the need for his baby, the desire for his lovemaking, the wish to make this marriage mean what it should have meant all along.

She loved him.

Yet hiding beneath this love was a fear. A big, bad fear. Fear that Dante didn’t love her but viewed her as a possession, just as Gerry had.

He trusted her, he said. He respected her.

Still, she wanted more. She wanted him to love her with as much passion and promise as she did him. And she had no idea if that could ever become a reality.