Wife By Force(6)

Not here, swimming. Half-naked.

Causing a flutter of lust in her abdomen.

She turned to walk back to her car. Taking a few steps down the path, she didn't quite run, but...

"Running away?" A deep silky voice slid around her.

The accusation stopped her cold. She never ran away now. Never. Turning, she met his gaze. "No."

He'd put both of his arms on the edge of the pool and the action   highlighted the bulge of his shoulder muscles. A trace of dark hair   covered his pectorals.

Lara forced herself to stare at the surrounding gardens.

"It looked like you were leaving."

"You're mistaken." Why couldn't she have slipped away before he saw her? Now she was stuck. Her pride demanded she not run away.

"Good." He lifted his long body out of the water, drawing her gaze once   more. Pacing to one of the many lounge chairs lining the tiled patio,  he  picked up a towel and slid it over his hair, his torso lengthening,  his  skin glowing in the sun.

Her nipples tightened. She gave thanks for the extra covering of her pool dress.

"Vene." He lowered the towel, gesturing to a chair right next to his. "Join me."

"Where is everybody?" She stayed right where she was.

A black brow arched. "Everybody?"

"Your sisters." Her hand waved pathetically in the air. "Their kids."

"They were not invited."

"But … but … " she sputtered. "Your housekeeper-"

"Invited you."

He eased down on the lounge and closed his eyes. Relief spread through   her, knowing his dark gaze was no longer fastened on her. Irritation   quickly followed. "You tricked me."

One eye opened at her accusation. "How did I do that?"

"You knew I wouldn't come-"

"Yet, here you are." His eye closed. He took a deep breath in and the play of his muscles rippled under his skin.

The heat between her legs surged. "I have to leave."

"You mean … run away."

The challenge zapped steel up her spine. "I don't run away."

"You never did as a child," he said, a soft slur to his words as if he   were falling asleep. "I wouldn't expect you to do it at present."

She suddenly had the feeling she stood before two paths. Two roads   leading to two very different conclusions. Which was absurd. This was   nothing except an afternoon swim, with someone she despised instead of   with a group of women she adored. He'd tricked her, and the resulting   annoyance churning inside her would help her get through this miserable   interlude without letting her libido go wild.

She walked to a chair one removed from his, laid out her towel, and   eased her body down. Heat lapped up from the white tiles, warming the   tension from her limbs. The breeze whispered along her face and legs,   providing a bit of coolness.         

     



 

His eyes remained closed.

Slowly, she relaxed on the soft give of the cushion.

Minutes ticked by without a movement across from her. The hot sun beat   on her skin and the pool dress became sticky with sweat. Why was she   huddling in this thing because of him? This was nonsense. She would take   no notice of him and enjoy the swim she'd looked forward to as she   drove here.

Lifting herself to a sitting position, she untied the dress and slipped it off her shoulders.

"At last," he murmured. "I was beginning to think you were ashamed of your body."

"Of course not," she snapped. Was he staring at her as she had stared at   him? She didn't want to know, didn't want to see what was in his eyes   as he inspected her body. She didn't care. Turning her head from him,   she closed her own eyes and willed her body to relax.

"Perhaps then, you are suffering from a cold?"

"No."

"That is a relief." A taunt laced his words.

A recollection swirled in her brain. Of the boy teasing her, tugging her   hair, making her giggle. She didn't feel like giggling now, though.  She  felt like snarling at him.

Ignore him. She opened her basket and pulled out a book. The subject had   certainly held her interest when she'd started it days ago. A long   dissertation on children's learning disabilities was exactly what she   needed to distract herself.

The words blurred before her eyes.

The vision of him was seared into her memory. No use trying to wipe her   brain cells clean. She obsessively went over it again. He'd filled out   as a man. No more lanky limbs. Only heavy, muscled shoulders, taut   thighs. Her mind coiled around his image, dreading that it would end up   in her dreams.

His sudden movement jerked her attention back to reality.

He'd eased himself on his side and a zing of awareness flashed through   her, knowing his focus was on her once more. Instead of meeting his   gaze, she stuck her nose deeper into her book.

"So, you are happy to be here in Italy." His voice was filled with confident satisfaction. "This is where you are meant to be."

"Really?" She swung her head around to frown at him. "Because you say so?"

He sighed. "Here we go again."

"We? There is no we going anywhere."

His black stare bored into her. "I was starting a perfectly civil   conversation and you immediately jump to conclusions about what I meant.   Why are you determined to start an argument with me?"

Good question. Where had the distance and dismissal and disdain she'd   planned on gone? She tried to find some flippant response, except before   she found the words, she made a mistake and glanced away from his  face.

All conscious thought disappeared.

The swirl of dark chest hair covered hard pectoral muscles. His abdomen   sported a sleek six-pack. His olive skin gleamed in the sun, water   droplets still sparkling like a string of diamonds on his shoulders. His   words drifted out of her mind. She tried to concentrate on why it was   important to explain how much she hated him, but then his nipples   snagged her entire attention. They were dark and tight from the   lingering cold of the pool. Her mouth watered, unwillingly.

"Lara?"

His voice seemed muffled, muted. Ignoring the low burr of his voice, she   let herself look some more, look at the bulging arms, the smooth tan   skin, the rock-solid muscles. Her gaze traced up the line of his strong   neck and jaw.

"Bella." His tone turned raspy. "Look at me."

I am, she wanted to say, but in the dim recesses of her brain, she knew   it would be stupid. Yet even more stupidly, she kept her focus on his   body. She couldn't tear her focus away from his beauty. It didn't seem   to matter he was ugly on the inside. He was all beautiful male on the   outside. She feasted on him. For years, she'd shut this passion down   inside her, and now, at the worst possible time, with the worst possible   man, her lust roared to life and she had no control over it.

"You are driving me crazy."

His husky words drew her attention to his mouth. The thin upper lip, the   hint of lushness in the lower. They opened and she wanted to taste,   taste his tongue and lips and wetness. Shivering at the thought, she   forced her gaze to slide along his jaw and the shadow of hair on his   skin abruptly jerked her out of the sexual haze engulfing her.

He hadn't shaved today.

His sisters claimed he never appeared as anything other than formal now. Never appeared as anything other than The Casartelli.

Polished. Poised.

Pompous, she'd muttered to herself as his sisters went on and on.

"What are you thinking?" His tone lowered, magnetic and inviting. Desperate.         

     



 

She managed to yank her focus away from him and pin it on the book.   Where it should have stayed all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Swimming? Relaxing?"

His voice was still husky with invitation, but she refused to be pulled   under his spell again. She forced herself to stare at the wavering  lines  of text in front of her. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I chose to take a day off?"

"You never take off work."

"Is that true?" Sighing, he eased down on his cushion. Out of the corner   of her eye, she saw his muscles bunching in the sun. "And you know   this, how?"

"Your sisters." She closed her eyes and willed her memory to blank out   the sight of him. "According to them, you're a workaholic."

"I have worked hard these past few years. It was necessary."

"Necessary to become a billionaire?"

His voice chilled. "I worked hard until I was assured the family company was stable. The money merely followed."

"Whatever you say, Dante."

"I like it when you say that."

His tease goaded her. Unwilling excitement bubbled in her blood. "That was sarcasm."

"Which we've already agreed is one of your new skills."