Wife By Force(9)

     



 

She would learn this eventually.

He would have his way.

Hitting the end of the pool, she stopped. He grabbed the edge of the   tile and watched her as she gulped deep breaths into her lungs. The   lapping of the water settled, the air hung around them redolent of sea   and sun.

Her gaze was all gold ire. "What are you doing?"

"Swimming. With you."

She took another deep breath, her glare never wavering.

"Do you remember how we would swim together as children?"

Rejecting his words, she turned her back to him and started a slow crawl through the water.

One stroke and he was beside her. "Do you remember how I taught you to swim in this pool?"

With a quick jerk, she stopped. "What are you trying to prove?"

His feet touched the floor of the pool, but she had to move her hands   beside her to keep afloat. Taking advantage of this, he moved closer.   Rivulets of water slid down her cheeks to her mouth. The urge to kiss,   to take, was fierce, but he locked it down with dogged resolve. "I'm   trying to remind you of what we once had. Our time together was not all   bitter. There are many memories that are good."

Twisting away, she made for the other end. He was not done with her,   though, not ready to let her go. Moving fast, he came right behind her,   his hands beside hers on the side of the pool.

"I'm getting out," she blurted.

"Not until we finish our conversation."

Her shoulders stiffened. "I told you I have no interest in childhood memories."

"Nevertheless, we will discuss this particular memory you brought up. Then put it behind us."

She yanked around to stare at him, her glare heated. "I put it behind me long ago. The memory doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me."

"So … I have to listen to you."

He cocked his head, thought for a moment. "Si."

Dante swore he could hear her grinding her teeth. A burst of   satisfaction coursed through him. Any intense reaction from her told him   what he needed to know. He got to her. He would use this, use this to   win her.

The slap of her hand on his shoulder yanked his attention back to her. "Move."

Leaning in, he stared into her glaring eyes. "No."

The silence thickened between them. The lapping of the water, the soft   roar of the ocean, the sound of their breathing-everything faded as he   got pulled into the honey heat of her gaze, the petal softness of her   lips, the smooth glow of her skin.

The beat of his blood pounded. In his heart. In his cock.

"All right." Her harsh words cut through the haze of his sexual desire. "Have your say and then I'm leaving."

Easing away from her, putting inches between himself and temptation, he   struggled to put together the explanation he'd practiced so carefully.   Exasperation stirred inside at his lack of concentration. This was   important and he should not have allowed himself to become so   tongue-tied with lust his brain could not operate at full capacity.

"So?" Her voice was laced with disdain. "Speak."

Exasperation turned to anger. No one in his life would dare talk to him with such disrespect. "Do not talk to me like that."

"I've said this before, but it bears repeating. I don't have to do anything you tell me to do."

Frowning, he folded his arms in front of him in order to keep from the   temptation to shake her. Or grab and kiss her quiet. Still, he would not   allow this to descend into another spat. That would not further his   goals. He took in a deep breath and forced his brain to function. "We   are going to discuss the night of your seventeenth birthday."

"We?" She copied him and folded her arms also. "I believe I was going to listen to your monologue about it."

"That night, I did and said what I had to for both of our sakes."

Her eyes snapped with immediate fury. "I'm supposed to be grateful you called me a puttana?"

Had he called her such a thing? Dante searched his memory. Maybe he had,   though it had been done in desperation to keep her away. Which he was   not going to share with her. But surely she could be made to understand   his position. "I was trying to stop you from throwing yourself at  men."

"You thought I'd been trying to kiss other men besides you?" Her mouth dropped open and a flash of hurt crossed her face.

"Per amor di Dio," he swore under his breath. "No. No, Lara."

"Then what?"

He looked out over his garden as he remembered. "Try and put yourself in my shoes for a moment."

Silence greeted him, yet he forced himself to continue. To show her at   least a taste of the agony he'd experienced that long ago night. "I was   twenty-four. You were seventeen."         

     



 

"I know that."

"Think of what your father would have said to me if I'd taken you up on your offer."

He heard her swift intake of breath. "I only offered a kiss."

Turning, he glowered at her. "I would not have been satisfied with a kiss."

Her gold eyes widened. "You can't mean-"

"I mean exactly that." His hands landed on the tile beside her   shoulders, as he stared at her, willing her to understand. "I had to   push you away. Before it was too late."

Lara's stare never wavered from his.

"I had to say those brutal words so you would leave," he said. "So you would go."

"You wanted me." She stated each word as if it were foreign to her tongue.

Constantly, bella, forever. Instead of blurting out his deepest secret, he forced a harsh bark of laughter. "Certamente."

"I didn't know."

"I want you now." His ragged words hung in the air between them.

All at once, her mouth compressed, her face turned cold. "Too late."

Shock coursed through him at her sudden change. What had happened? He   thought he'd made a breakthrough, thought he'd reached her, yet she was   still shutting him out. "Lara?"

Two determined hands pushed once more at his shoulders. "I said, you're twelve years too late."

"Liar." His temper flared, the temper he never let loose anymore.   Patience and plotting and purpose all fell away into the cold water   surrounding him, leaving only hot, hard frustration coursing through his   body. His voice became harsh against his will. "We both feel it. This   bond. And now there is nothing standing in our way."

"Yes, there is." Her honey eyes went dark gold with determination. "I don't want it. I don't want you."

A twisting fear took his breath. No, no, he wanted to howl.

She glanced down as if she'd seen something in his expression she   couldn't face. The action drove him crazy. Had she seen something he was   not willing to reveal? The urge to retreat thrummed through him, but  he  couldn't stop, couldn't pull away. "Tell me you didn't want me  several  nights ago."

She met his look, her gaze now cool. "I believe I was clear about not wanting your kiss."

"You responded."

"No."

Had he mistaken everything? Dreamed something that wasn't true into   reality? His throat filled with raw disbelief, an icy coating of horror.

He took a step back.

Lara's eyes narrowed. Then she shrugged.

Shrugged.

With a last dismissive look, she turned and slid under the water,   swimming to the far side of the pool. He wanted to follow her, but   checked the instinct. His emotions were too close to the surface for his   comfort.

She'd destroyed him with one simple word. One simple action.

Best to let her go. Give himself some time to regroup. Figure out another way.

She glanced at him as she reached the end of the pool, her expression filled with derision. "What? Not chasing after me now?"

"No." Male pride roared at him to go after her, buy her silence with his   kisses. His hands clenched at his sides. He forced himself to stay   where he was. "Stopping this conversation. For now."

"Forever." She turned and lifted herself out of the water in one fluid move.

His gut churned with confusion and a crushing sense of fear that his   entire adult life had been wasted dreaming of this woman. This woman who   appeared to want nothing from him at all. He stood, silent, as she   walked over to the lounge chair. Picking up the towel, she glanced at   him before wiping her face.

A sharp strike of hope crackled through him in an instant. Because   there'd been something, some flash of emotion in her eyes, some flicker   of response in the way her mouth curved that told him what he needed to   know.

She was lying. Lying about what he did to her.

His heart pounded with renewed resolve.

"I know you feel this connection between us," he said, his voice quiet,   yet he knew she heard him. "I know you responded two nights ago to my   kiss. I felt it."