“I think you’re loving it,” she told him as nerves gave way to the Italian temper her parents had gifted her with. “You had to wait five years, but you’re finally getting back at me.”
“Did you expect anything less?”
Had she? On those rare occasions when she’d allowed herself to imagine meeting Rico again, she’d never wondered what he’d say to her. What she could possibly say to him. Her imaginings had been more rich fantasies of desire and the passion that still haunted her. In her dreams, she and Rico hadn’t wasted a lot of time talking. But she was rapidly discovering that reality was much harder to live with than fantasies.
Teresa stared up into his eyes and knew she was in no position to be angry at him. Though temper still simmered inside her, it was slowly draining away. After all, this was her fault. She was the one who’d lied to him so long ago and those lies had eventually brought them here. To this moment.
“No,” she said. “I suppose not.”
“Why did you come to Tesoro, Teresa?”
She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand, then let it fall to her side again. “When I realized my father and Paulo had come here, I tried to get them away before you found them. That’s all.”
“I don’t think so.” He moved in closer and she leaned back because she couldn’t move with the railing pressing against her spine. He slapped both hands down on the iron on either side of her, effectively caging her between his arms, and then bent his head until his eyes were boring into hers. She looked into those so familiar and yet so different eyes and saw nothing soft or tender or loving. All that shone back at her was temper and ice.
“I think you came because you wanted me to catch you at last. Because you couldn’t stay away.”
“You’re wrong.” She shook her head, determined to deny his words. If he was right, then she was a monumental fool.
“Am I?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper that hinted at intimacy. “You could have phoned your father. Warned your brother to leave. Instead, you came here, to my place.”
All right, yes. She could have phoned. Could have tried to talk to her family long-distance from the safety of her apartment in Naples. Oh, she’d told herself that they wouldn’t listen to her if she called. That she would have to convince them in person. But what if Rico was right? What if her hunger to be near him again had sent her right into his revenge plan?
Oh, God, she hoped not. Because that would mean her feelings for him were still too rich, too deep for her own good.
“Think about it, Teresa,” Rico urged, his mouth just a breath away from hers. “You came to me. And now that I have you…”
Her insides swirled and heat rushed through her in a blink. Her throat went dry and her breath locked in her chest. Funny, but his idea of revenge—keeping her in his bed for a month until she surrendered to the want clamoring inside her—was just what she’d been dreaming about ever since she’d left him. The punishment for her would be when the month was over and he gave her the divorce she had thought she’d gotten years ago.
He brushed his lips across hers. Once. Twice. Just the barest touch of his mouth to hers and fireworks exploded inside her. She shivered and watched as he pulled away, then straightened, taking a step back from her.
“Now that I have you,” he repeated, “we do this my way.”
“What is your way, Rico?”