Wife By Force: International Billionaires II: The Italians (21 page)

Think, Lara, think
.

Dante was not Gerry. He could be demanding, but he listened to her, reasoned with her, and often agreed with her. He was protective, true, yet not in a malevolent or claustrophobic way like Gerry had been. He was solid as a rock in his personality, his values, his self-confidence. He would not feed off her, leech her of all energy, as Gerry had.

Your words hurt sometimes
.

His accusation pierced her once more, exactly as they had when he’d first said them last night.

It was time to stop punishing Dante for Gerry’s sins.

And it was time to forgive him for his worst sin: forcing her to marry him. Whatever logic lurked behind that act, she would eventually find out. However, she would never hold the action against him again. He had earned her forgiveness. She could forgive him.

Couldn’t she?

“Enough,” she grumbled to herself.

Once and for all, she had to untie the strands binding her first marriage to her second. She needed to put this issue to rest in her mind and her heart.

Dante was not Gerry.

Period.

From now on, she would not make him pay for something he didn’t do. He had his faults, he did things that annoyed her, but he was actually nothing like Gerry. At that very moment, she burned every old tape running in her memory. A sense of freedom, real freedom, coursed through her blood. This was what she’d needed when she walked away from the restaurant. This was true freedom.

It was worth the risk to love Dante.

It was worth taking a chance on finding the loving man behind the mask he wore.

It was worth it to hope he could let himself go and tell her he loved her.

Jerking out of her reverie at the loud honk of a car horn, she glanced at her watch and grimaced. She’d been gone for almost an hour and was only now remembering to call her driver. Opening her purse, she dug through the miscellaneous scramble of lipstick, wallet, pens.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered.

She’d forgotten her mobile phone at home. The thing was lying on the kitchen counter, right where she’d left it after confirming the lunch date with Daniella. She supposed she could find a pay phone somewhere or go into a shop, but she might as well just catch the bus and get home as soon as she could.

By the time she’d caught the correct bus and settled into a corner, a pang of guilt slid through her. Hopefully, the driver and the bodyguard hadn’t gone crazy and called anyone. Like Dante. Looking at her watch one more time, she calculated she’d get home way ahead of him. With any luck, she’d have soothed any of her bodyguard’s grumblings by then and her husband would be none the wiser.

Giving the driver a smile as she got off the bus, she hiked up the hill towards their home. Perhaps she had been a bit impetuous, a bit selfish for running away. But she’d truly needed the time to come to grips with her emotions and accept them. She’d made some good decisions too.

She would stop taking the pill.

She’d stop fighting the marriage.

She’d risk being in love.

All in all, it was a good thing she’d escaped for a little while. With some luck, she wouldn’t have to justify the decision to Dante. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to admit her love right now. Not until she was sure she had his.

“
Signora.
” The doorman thrust open the glass door, an expression of deep relief on his florid face. “You are safe.”

Uh, oh
.

“Obviously, I’m safe.” Pinning a bright smile on her mouth, Lara made for the lifts at a fast clip, the doorman hustling beside her.

“
Signore
Casartelli will be so relieved,” he puffed, his short legs pumping to stay at her side.

“My husband was called?”
Double bloody hell.

“
Si
,
certamente
.” The doorman held the lift open for her. “The driver’s duty was to notify him.
Signore
Casartelli came home to assist in finding you. We all have been worried you were kidnapped.”

“He’s here?” she squeaked.
Kidnapped
?

The doorman nodded, his blue hat bouncing. “
Si, si
. I will call immediately and let him know you are here.”

“No.” She stopped the lift door from closing. “Let me surprise him.”

The vigilant doorman’s jaw sagged. “But,
Signora
Casartelli—”

“Please.”

His jaw sagged further, yet he nodded his agreement again.

“
Grazie
.”

The lift silently shut. Slumping against the silver-paneled interior, she couldn’t help a groan. A temper tantrum was surely in her near future. She would have to do some fast talking to settle him down. He was sure to have on a full steam of anger.

The door eased open and she stepped into the apartment.

Her husband stood looking through the full-length windows at the city, phone to his ear, furious Italian pouring from his mouth. She took another reluctant step forward and must have made some kind of sound because with a jerk, he turned.

His face was pale and his eyes burned like two black holes in his head. “Lara.”

Before she could move farther into the room, he was there, wrapping her in a steely grip, his big body burning with fear and sweat.

“I’m okay,” she managed to state as he kissed her lips and chin and cheek. “I’m fine.”

His arms tightened as if he were afraid she would disappear if he let her go. Mumbling curses against her skin, he breathed in and out as if he’d just finished a long distance run.

Her heart beat painfully in her chest. This was her fault he was this upset. She hadn’t thought it through when she walked out of the restaurant. She hadn’t thought it would be such a big deal. Clearly, it was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered on the rasp of his cheek. “I didn’t think.”

He stilled beside her, all tense muscle and constricted breath. “What?”

Lara gulped, but pushed forward with her confession. “I’m sorry I walked away.”

Pulling back, he stared at her, his eyes dark as coal. “You walked away?”

The incredulity in his voice made her wince. “Dumb. I know.”

He yanked himself from her arms and paced in front of her, rage starting to flush his cheeks. “You weren’t kidnapped.”

“No, no.” Flapping her hands in distress, she shuffled to the windows and peered out at the afternoon sun slanting across the tile roofs below. “I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

An ominous silence fell. It reverberated in the air. A still, deep, angry silence.

She wrapped her courage around her and turned to face her husband’s wrath. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Dante held himself rigid. He appeared as if he was moments away from pouncing on her and tearing her limb from limb. “I thought you’d accepted the protection as a necessary precaution. I see I was wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong.” She clutched her hands together. “I understand about the protection.”

Confusion filled his eyes. “Then why did you do it?”

“I needed some space. Some time.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Some freedom.”

“Ah.” His head jerked back like he’d been slapped. “Freedom.”

“I’m sorry.”

His bark of laughter cracked across the room. The sound echoed with pain.

She reached her hand toward him, but he shook her off, stepping away from her in a sharp movement.

“Why should I not forgive you?” His voice became distant and muted. “After all, this is surely my fault.”

“What?” Now it was her turn to be confused.

The blank expression on his face indicated he was back in charge of his emotions, yet his fists still clenched at his sides. “I am the monster who trapped you in this situation,
si
? No wonder you want your freedom.”

“No.” He was blowing this way out of proportion. Stepping boldly forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist, stopping him from moving away once more. “No. That is not what I meant.”

He stood at stiff attention, and again that awful silence fell.

Looking into his face, she hung tight, willing him to understand. “It was a spur of the moment thing. Not planned.”

His countenance might be blank, but the red flags of his rage still colored his high cheekbones.

“I… I…” She stuttered to a stop. How could she confide the emotions she’d wrestled with over the past hour? How could she soothe him without blurting everything out? Telling him she loved him in this kind of way—no, this wasn’t the time to make her confession. He was too angry, he wouldn’t accept her declaration of love at this moment. She would have to find another way to make him understand. “I needed a bit of space. I bought some gelato, sat in a park, rested a bit.”

His muscles lost none of its rigidity.

“I’m sorry.” She gazed into his eyes with every sincere feeling she had. “I didn’t realize I’d been gone for so long. I was going to call the driver, but I’d forgotten my mobile.”

His stare followed the wave of her hand and his short nod acknowledged he’d seen the offending phone on the counter.

“It was a dumb thing to do. It won’t happen ever again.”

A long pause fell. Pressing into his warm body, she laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart slow, feeling the heat of his rage diminish. She’d make this up to him. Somehow.

“All right,
bella
.” His voice held its usual blend of arrogance and remoteness. Underneath, though, underneath there was still a hint of…of what? Resignation? Agony?

“This isn’t your fault in any way,” she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

He nodded as if he agreed. Yet his eyes were a deathly blank black, a look that made her shiver. “Whatever you say.”

Her arms dropped from his body as he pulled away. Her tongue seemed glued to the top of her mouth. What else could she say to him? If she told him she loved him, he wouldn’t believe her. What other words would heal this gaping chasm that had instantly appeared between them?

“I should notify security.” He moved past her as he spoke softly into his phone. Soon he disappeared into the bedroom, the door closing quietly behind him.

No slamming doors. No temper tantrums.

Cold fear filled her gut.

“
W
hat’s wrong
?” Ana’s voice held concern and worry.

“Nothing.” Lara continued to sort through the collage of books and papers littering her desk.

Her friend scoffed in disbelief. “You haven’t been yourself in days.”

Days in which nothing she said or did broke the wall Dante had erected between them. In bed, he turned his back to her. In public, he was smooth and distant. At home—well, he was rarely at home anymore. She’d searched desperately for a smidgen of warmth in which she could lay her love at his feet, yet there was nothing but chilly reserve. The passionate man had slipped behind his steel wall and it appeared as if he was never coming back out.

“I’m fine.” Her throat tightened, fighting to swallow the tears.

“Okay. You don’t want to talk about it.” Ana placed her hands on the pile of books and papers.

Forced to stop her sorting, she reluctantly looked up.

“Why don’t you knock off early,” her friend suggested.

“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“You work harder than all of us put together.”

“Ana—”

“Take some time for yourself. Or go get that gorgeous husband of yours and have some fun.”

Lara winced.

“Aha!” The older woman sat beside her and took her hand. “Dante’s upset you.”

“Exactly the opposite. I’ve upset him.” The tears hovered at the edge of her eyes. Wasn’t it ironic that the day she’d finally figured out she loved him was the day she’d managed to make him so angry he’d virtually disappeared from their marriage? If not physically, in every other way.

How she missed him. She missed their breakfasts together, when he made her a cappuccino and they discussed the coming day. She missed his wry comments as they endured another dinner party or gala event. She missed his tender words and touches as they came together in bed.

“Every marriage has its ups and downs,” Ana said.

A sharp laugh of despair escaped. “This has been a huge down.”

“Whatever you did, you can fix it.”

She glanced over, trying to find some glimmer of hope from her friend. “Do you think so?”

“I know so.” The hand holding hers squeezed. “One time Salvadore was so angry at me.”

“What did you do?”

“I like to shop.” Ana laughed. “He’d laid down the law and I didn’t follow it.”

“Uh, oh.” She managed a small smile.

“
Si.
And he was right. We were trying to buy a house and we needed to save money.”

“So…what happened?”

“He yelled and then sulked. For days.” Ana’s dark eyes danced. “Men are champion sulkers. Salvadore wouldn’t talk at dinner. He stayed late at work. He ignored me in bed.”

“Dante’s been sulking for days, doing all those things. I feel like it’s been an eternity since he’s been normal.”

“What did you do?”

“I walked away from protection.” She made a face. “Dumb, I know. But I needed a bit of freedom for a little while, time to myself.”

“Dante didn’t understand, did he?”

“He thought I’d been kidnapped.”

“Ouch.” Ana patted her shoulder in sympathy. “Well, I can see why he’s been sulking, still it’s time for it to stop.”

“Way past time.” She heaved a frustrated sigh.

“You’ll have to do what I did with Salvadore.”

“What?”

“I seduced him.” Ana’s smile grew large. “You see, he’d always made the majority of the sexual moves in our relationship before.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “It’s the same with Dante.”

“I decided I would turn the tables on him. I went to his office dressed in a skimpy dress he’d never seen. Locked the door and took charge.”

For the first time in days, she laughed in honest enjoyment. “What did he do?”

“He was shocked.” Ana chuckled. “However, he got into the spirit of things within a few moments.”

“That’s all it took?”

“
Si
.” Her friend’s dark curls bounced around her head at her vigorous nodding. “After we made love, and he was completely relaxed and content, I apologized one more time and he accepted it. Get your man’s attention, make him happy, and then apologize sincerely.”

She took a deep breath, trying to imagine if it could possibly make a difference.

“I promise you. This will work.”

“In the office?” Her doubts crowded in her mind. Marching into his office and seducing him? That would be scary. He might reject her. He might be his usual cold and distant self when she tried to make her moves. “Perhaps I’ll just try and touch him in bed tonight.”

“Won’t work.” The older woman was definite. “He’ll be able to escape. Into the bathroom, the living room. You need the element of shock to buy some time.”

“I’m not sure—”

“He has an office with a door, doesn’t he?”

“Um. Sure.” Did Ana not know her husband owned entire buildings?

“His staff respects his privacy?”

Lara frowned. She couldn’t imagine his staff being anything but subservient to Dante. “I’m almost sure they would.”

“Then go shopping. After that, go over to his office.”

“Ana—”

“Do it before you think about it too much. Before you lose your nerve.” With a decisive movement, the older woman rose, pulling Lara up with her. “Go right now.”

“I don’t think—”

Ana pushed her out of the room, grabbing her purse and stuffing it into her arms. “Correct. Don’t think. Act.”

Grumbling, she allowed herself to be marched down the long hall and out the door, into the hot Italian sun. “I’m not sure—”

Her short friend stood on the top step and pointed her finger, shaking it in front of Lara’s nose. “Do you want him to forgive you?”

“Yes.” The rush of tears threatened once more.

“Do what I did then.” The finger wiggled. “Take a chance.”

“Okay.” The thought of her husband forgiving her and returning to what he’d been before was so poignant and pointed, it pierced any doubts and yanked her into action. “I’ll do it.”

Her friend waved as Lara started up the street. She scarcely noticed the bodyguard stepping behind her, talking on his mobile. It seemed like eons ago that having security irritated her. Why had she spent so much time angry about meaningless things? What mattered was seducing her husband and getting her marriage back on track.

A dress. She glanced at her watch. She didn’t have time to go home and change. Anyway, she wanted something he had never seen before.

Shock value.

Striding along the street, she headed for an elegant, exclusive shop she’d spotted before she married. She’d stood outside the window and drooled, wishing, briefly, she were really, really rich. With a wry grin, she located the boutique and opened the door. Well, she was really, really rich now. Might as well enjoy the perks.

With the help of a friendly assistant, Lara found exactly what she was looking for. The dress was bright fuchsia with a delicate lacing of gold running through the silk. It shimmered when she moved in front of the mirror. The skirt cut off a good four inches above her knee, showing off her legs.

Dante said he liked her legs.

The camisole top was trimmed in golden lace. Daring to the extreme, it showed almost everything. She smiled into the mirror.

Dante said he liked her breasts too.

It was a good thing the dress came with a jaunty gold jacket. She could button it up as she walked through the lobby, and then discard it immediately when she got to his office. Confidence began to grow. She was going to come at him with everything he liked about her highlighted and spotlighted.

The assistant produced golden high heels with a strappy band that curled up her ankle. An instant vision of herself sauntering down a long stretch of carpet towards his desk made her shiver. He’d be watching. How could he not?

Rolling up the shimmery stockings that ended with a lace edge, she finally bought into the plan. She could do this. She could seduce her husband.

“
Siete bei
,
Signora
Casartelli,” the attendant gushed as Lara strutted out of the dressing room.

“
Grazie
.” Flashing a smile, she turned and took one last look. Yes. She was sex personified.

Her husband was in for a surprise.

H
e was tired
.

Dante rubbed a hand across his jaw and then yanked his tie down. He’d been working non-stop for days on a business deal with an Australian firm that at long last was coming together. He should be ecstatic, elated. This deal would launch his company into a whole new stratosphere of success.

He couldn’t care less.

When his phone buzzed, he sighed and answered, issuing a series of commands to correct the situation presented. Dropping the phone, he leaned back in his leather chair and stared out the window at the Florence sunshine.

He’d barely been at home, barely slept. For days, he’d operated on automatic pilot, going through the motions, unwilling to confront reality.

Which was not like him.

All right.

He’d shied away from it for too long. The reality was, it was for the best. Lara pushed him too far, made him feel too much. This caused him unease; an unease he did not want in his personal life. Plus, she apparently wanted out of their marriage.

It would be better for both of them if he let her go.

A crushing agony flashed through him. Closing his eyes, he willed it away, even though he knew, he knew ultimately he would have to confront this as well, along with the reality the marriage did not suit either of them.

I needed some freedom
.

Her words crashed inside him, churning his damned emotions. He immediately swept the memory out of his mind, flattened it with the brutal concentration he’d learned to use over the years.

Eventually, he would have to let her go.

However, not yet. He couldn’t accept reality yet. He needed only a few more mornings, watching her as she got ready for work. He needed only a few more nights watching her as she slept. He needed a few more times listening to her talk, watching her eyes turn from dark to light gold, looking at her as she walked towards him.

Was that too much to ask? Was it too much to ask that he have these few more stolen moments until the time came when he let her walk away for good?

The buzz of the intercom intruded into his torment.

“
Si,
” he muttered.

“
Signora
Casartelli is here to see you.” His PA’s voice was filled with curiosity. Which was not surprising, since his wife had never come to his office before.

He jerked up. Was something wrong? “Send her in.”

The double doors eased open and Lara stepped in.

The sight of her stopped his breath. She was dressed as a siren, a brilliantly colored, gold-edged invitation to every male who ever walked the earth. The skirt was shorter than any she’d ever had on before. The jacket was decent yet fit her like a glove, showing the dip of her waist, the lushness of her curves above and below.

What the hell was his Lara doing dressed like this in the middle of the day? She was far more comfortable in jeans and T-shirts when she went to the school, and frankly, he liked that. Why advertise what he had to every other male in the vicinity?

Today, however, she’d gone over to the other side, dressing like a mistress instead a wife. Her clothing destroyed his concentration, destroyed the command he had on himself.

Dannazione.

Behind her, his PA smiled brightly. “Would you like me to bring some refreshments in,
Signore
Casartelli?”

“No.” Lara swung around, looking behind her. “I need a moment of privacy with my husband.”

“
Certamente
.” His PA nodded as the door closed on her interested face.

His wife glanced over her shoulder at him and turned the lock.

The clicking sound shot across the room and straight to his groin.

No.
No.

There had to be some explanation for her arrival other than the one his riotous libido brought to his all too eager imagination.

Trying to assert some command on his raging hormones and his unexpectedly purposeful wife, he rose. He was glad he still had his suit coat on. The clothing shielded his blatant interest from her stare. “Is something wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong for me to come visit you at work?” Her long, elegant fingers started to unbutton the jacket. Since the jacket was the only part of her dress that was reasonably conservative, he desperately wanted her to keep it on. He had little self-control with her as it was. The last few nights had been a nightmare. Smelling her soft skin, even though he’d turned away from her. Hearing her soft breathing as she slept. Imagining her body, warm against his.

But he’d been adamant with himself. If he was going to have to let her go, he had to do it in stages. The first stage was to subdue this driving need to be inside her. Then he would be able to pull away further. One step at a time.

“Lara,” he rasped. “Wait.”

It was too late. The last button came undone and with a womanly gesture as old as time, she slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor.

The dress was outrageous. It was scarcely decent as lingerie, much less street clothes. The short skirt, rippling around her thighs, had been enough of a trial on his libido. The camisole was far worse—the lace hid nothing except her nipples. Even from the distance across his vast office, he saw her nipples were peaked, hard. Ready for his mouth.

Taking a deep breath, he sat back down in his leather chair, trying to ignore his rioting body. “I’m busy.”

Her provocative chuckle curled around his cock, just as surely as if her hand had slid into his pants. “I’m sure you are.”

“If there’s nothing wrong, I don’t have any time.” Staring at the computer was the only action he was capable of. At least it kept him from the temptation of looking at her. “What is it you want?”

“There’s a question.”

He felt her, felt her move across the room. He heard her, heard the swish of the silk on those impossibly long legs. He caught the whiff of her rose perfume that always, always stirred him. And the smell of her beneath. The subtle smell of woman, uniquely hers.