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.