Wife By Force(13)

Lara fisted her hands in her lap and pressed them into her stomach,   trying to keep it all in, trying to push it all away. It was still   there, though. The reality inside her.

"Your two simple words regarding your dead husband were enlightening,"   he continued, relentless. "The anger you have shown towards me is now   more understandable. I'll be interested to find out about your   marriage."

"I am not talking to you about my marriage," she whispered.

"But it is only fair. Since it appears I am paying the price for your husband's actions."

"You have your own actions to pay for," she blurted.

Her body, her heart sensed his retreat. The air cooled between them. For   some awful reason, it hurt her. The deadening silence extended, the   link between them leaching away.

Taking in deep breaths, she managed to stop the jumbling emotions   running through her. She would endure this reception for a short time   and then scuttle home. She would not talk to this man again. Ever. She   would concentrate on her school and her friends. She would stay away   from men, all men, until she healed completely. Then, only then, would   she look for the man of her dreams. A man who listened. Who respected   her. Who would never destroy her self-confidence or tear her heart to   pieces.

The limo eased to a stop on the driveway circling in front of the Casartelli villa.

"I believe I was going to give you some advice."

Another breath. Another.

"When a woman runs. A man has the compulsion to chase."

"I'm not running. From you or anyone."

"Quite the opposite, I would say." His deep voice was cool and precise.   "I believe you are running as fast as you can from what you know is   inside you."

"There is nothing inside me," she managed through the knot in her heart and her throat. "Nothing for you."

"I am a patient man. And also a determined one." He held his body still,   yet she sensed the coiled heat and need. "You cannot escape what is   between us. I will chase you for as long as it takes. Until you   eventually admit what you truly want."

Heart jumping in her chest, she forced herself to meet his black stare.   No longer cool and indecipherable, the blackness radiated resolve and   ruthless will. Exactly like twelve years ago, he thought he could   dictate what was between them. Bitter anger surged inside her and laced   her every word with warning. "Don't chase me."

"Ah, Lara." His dark lashes slowly shielded his eyes. "I am afraid it is far too late for that."





Chapter 6





Thank God.

The simple words echoed in his head.

Thank God.

The expression on her face when she'd said those telling words in the   cathedral played inside his mind. Relief, mixed with ironic cynicism. No   grief over a lost love. No sadness. No desperate wish for her dead   husband to come back from the grave.         

     



 

Thank God.

Dante watched Lara as she raced up the stone steps of his villa. As if   she could race away from what she'd revealed to him. As if he would let   her run away from what she'd given him. Only a tiny slip really. Any   other person might have missed the slight inflection in her voice or the   way she tilted her head in relief. Or the tight edge to the two words   that said so much.

To him.

"Signore Casartelli?" The limo door opened wider and his devoted driver peered in, a look of shocked concern on his face.

Why wouldn't he be shocked? No woman had ever rushed from the Casartelli   limo in obvious distress. At no time had his driver ever seen The   Casartelli sitting silently, staring blankly at the tinted window in   front of him.

"Everything is fine, Aberto."

Stepping out of the limo, Dante grimaced. Everything was not fine, of   course. Far from it. Lara had now become a riddle. A riddle he needed to   solve before he could ever approach achieving his goal. A riddle that   increasingly grew more incomprehensible and complicated every time he   saw her. The dozens of million euro deals he'd negotiated over the last   eleven years paled in comparison to what he faced in trying to figure   her out. Obviously, he had to figure her out before he could ever hope   to win her. Win not only her body and her mind, but her heart.

A heart clearly damaged by her past marriage.

A thick fire of pure rage flashed in his gut. All those pictures, those   videos, those reports he'd been sent over the years. How had his   family's security team missed the fact that something was wrong? Wrong   with the marriage. Wrong with her.

How had he missed it?

The thought made him grit his teeth. He stomped up the villa steps, the   solid smack of his handmade leather shoes on the marble stone acting   like a slap on his conscience. Twelve years ago, when he'd convinced   Hugo Derrick that sending his daughter to England would be a good move,   he sealed the deal when he promised his security team would keep an eye   on her. He'd given his word. He'd promised on his honor she would be   protected.

The double doors of the villa, with the distinctive Casartelli crest, loomed in front of him.

Onore soprattutto.

The gilded scroll swept over the crown, the castle, the cross. Mocking him.

Honor above all.

His ancestor, the founder of the family, stared at him from the middle   of the crest. The wooden eyes gleamed black with paint, the long nose   pointed high in the air, the hardness of the jaw clenched. In disgust.   At him.

He had failed. When all these years, he thought he'd done the right thing.

Dante closed his eyes for a moment, only a moment, and when he opened   them it was his housekeeper staring at him from the doorway, holding the   heavy stone door ajar. She looked just as concerned as his loyal  driver  had.

"Signore?" She frowned in puzzlement.

Why shouldn't she be puzzled? This was not like him to stare at the door   of his own home. Or stand here doing nothing. Or not have any words to   soothe the worries his staff, his family, his business associates  might  have.

The purr of a dozen limos came from behind him.

"Signore?" she said again, her eyes filling with anxiety as she glanced   at the stream of cars circling the driveway and coming to a stop. "È   successo qualcosa?"

Si. Something has happened. He'd found out. Found out he'd failed Lara.   Found out he'd broken his promise to her father. All these years, he'd   congratulated himself for honoring her marriage vows by staying away.   He'd foolishly thought he'd done the right thing when he stepped back.   He'd even assured Hugo Derrick he would continue to provide her security   in England on the off chance her stable, secure ass of a husband  failed  in his duty.

During those years, she had suffered. He didn't know what, or why, or   how. Still, he knew she had by the look in those honey eyes as she'd   said those two simple words.

Thank God.

"Thank God we're finally here." Dani's voice came from behind him. "The twins were driving me crazy in the limo."

"The twins always drive you crazy, il mio amore," her husband commented.

"Because you spoil them." Giana Casartelli marched to Dante's side and   glanced at the housekeeper and then him with a frown. "What is going   on?"

"Le mie scuse." His housekeeper rushed her words, a flustered flush on her broad-cheeked face. "Non lo so-"

"There is nothing to apologize for, Ariana." This was not the time to   continue these thoughts. Not the time to contemplate his failures.

"What is wrong?" His mamma's emotional radar immediately tuned into the turmoil he was stuffing down, down, down inside.         

     



 

"Nothing." He glanced at her now, sure he'd wiped everything clean from his face. "The wedding was perfect as expected."

His mother's gaze never wavered from his. "Where is Lara? Is she all right?"

His attempt at diversion had not succeeded and her question scrambled   what little was left of his brain. No, she was not all right. And it was   his fault.

"Signorina Derrick is here." Ariana unknowingly rushed in to save him. "She said she needed to use the lavatory."

"So do I," Dani grumbled from behind him. "Do you mind moving, Dante?"

His sister's words managed to cut through his ragged thoughts. Thoughts   he had no time to go over and ponder. No time right now to figure out a   better course than the one he'd chosen when he decided to place Lara  in  the limo with him. And place her beside him-

"Come, come, Dante." His mother patted his arm and gave him a gentle push. "Time to..."

Her words faded as his thoughts kept pummeling him. Yet, somehow, he   found himself in the foyer, greeting the guests alongside his beaming   bride of a sister and his proud peacock of a new brother-in-law. His   mother laughed and cried happy tears beside him, still managing to shoot   several questioning looks his way.