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Wife By Force(19)

By:Caro LaFever


He let her go, easing his lips off hers. "But the mouth itself," he whispered. "Says yes."

"No-"

"Someday soon, you will also say the words." His voice rang with resolve. "Yes, Dante, yes."

Jerking herself out of his arms, she pulled the rags of her pride and   will around her. This man would not win. She was stronger, older, wiser   than she'd been with Gerry. This time, she would protect herself. "Your   ego amazes me."

He gave her a slight bow. "Grazie."

"That was not a compliment," she bit out. "News flash. Not every woman wants your body."

"You do though."

Frustration whipped through her blood, giving her fresh fuel. "A few kisses mean nothing."

"You kiss every man like you kiss me?" His tone brewed with irony.

"No, of course not."

"Which is exactly my point." He took a step toward her, but she backed   away. Stopping, he put his hands in his pockets. "You're not the kind of   woman who gives so much of herself to a man if she doesn't have   feelings for him."

Realizing the trap, she tried to break free. "How do you know what kind   of woman I am? Maybe I've slept with dozens of men in the past eighteen   months since Gerry's death."

A low grunt of disbelief was his response.

"Maybe I sleep with any man who catches my fancy."

"If that is the case, then I am in luck. Since you clearly fancy me."

"Again, the ego." She strode away from him, hands clenched at her sides.   "I'm astonished any woman can stand you for more than a moment."

"Actually, that has never been a problem for me."

A pang of jealousy slithered through her at the thought of him with   another woman naked together … Lara pushed the vision back, pushed the   emotion she wouldn't accept down deep inside. Turning, she threw up her   hands. "Then go find them. Go get the harem waiting for you in every   room in Europe. They are welcome to you."         

     



 

"The problem is," he stated, "I have chosen you."

Her hands clutched her arms as her stomach did a somersault. Why hadn't   he admitted this twelve years ago when she'd been his for the taking?   Her heart grieved. He'd waited until it was far too late for them. Her   broken heart could never accept him now. "I'm not

avail-"

"Only you." His words were like solid planks of steel. Rigid and inflexible and immovable.





Chapter 8





The words of his sisters floated into Lara's mind.

Dante always has a goal.

Dante never gives up.

Dante always wins.

Her throat tightened around a cold lump of fear. His formidable will   combined with the sexual draw was a potent weapon. "Stop pushing me."

Ignoring her plea, he moved close, close enough she caught his scent,   masculine and clean. A shudder of forbidden desire raced through her.   "Look at me," he commanded.

Closing her eyes, she kept her face turned away.

A deep sigh escaped him. "Bella, I understand enough to know you were hurt-"

"You understand nothing."

"-however, you must put it behind you," he continued. "You must look at this from a logical point of view."

The male condescension in his voice lit up all the old memories buried   in her heart. He sounded precisely like Gerry had when he'd lectured   her. Chastising her for not being able to read simple English. Chiding   her for thinking she could handle her own money. The censure in his   voice when she'd attempted to get a job.

"Logically," Dante said, continuing to dig himself a deeper hole. "We have many things in common."

"Logic. Typical of you. Yet missing the total point, as only a man can do."

"As I am only a man." His tone turned harsh. "Please illuminate your point."

"My point is there is no bond between us."

"You are deluding yourself."

"This sexual thing-" She waved her hands in dismissal, trying to appear   nonchalant, as if she discussed sex with a man every day of her life.   "This sexual draw-"

"Ah." His voice turned husky. "At last, you admit there is something between us."

"Nothing of importance."

"Sex is not important?"

"Not for me." She struggled to find the words that would keep her secret   while still successfully getting him to stop coming at her. "I'm not   interested in sex."

"You seem very interested whenever you are in my arms."

"Which is why I don't want to ever be there again."

"He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

His soft, low voice did not eclipse the hard, brutal truth.

"All right." She braved a straight look at his face. "Let's say he did. That doesn't change the facts. I'm not interested."

"This is not going to get any easier. And I am here to help you get over it."

"How nice of you." Another desperate laugh escaped her. She hoped it   sounded practiced and experienced. She hoped the inflection in her tone   and the laughter hid her secret well. "But no thank you."

"Almost two years is a long time." He straightened from the wall, his   body still appearing relaxed. Yet his words pulsed with intent. A quiet,   lethal purpose. "A relationship with me is exactly what you need."

"I believe I'll pass on your offer of sexual healing."

"Do you think sex is the only thing I'm offering you?"

She knew it wasn't. He'd made it clear. But discussing sex, even though   that was hard enough, was much easier than talking about what he  wanted.  "That's all there could be between us."

"I disagree." He paced slowly toward her. "There is much more for us."

"I don't want anything more."

"So, the only thing you want from me is sex." His deep, dark voice swirled, seduced, made her dizzy.

"I don't want anything from you," she cried. "Why can't you let this go?"

"It is not in my nature to let things go." He kept coming at her with   his words, his intent. "Not when I see so much potential. What we have   is an opportunity here."

There it was once more. His cold dispassion. How could he ever think she   would want a man like this? "Potential? Opportunity? You make it sound   like we are going into business together."

"In a way you are correct." His stare never strayed from her face. "I believe it is worth exploring the possibility."         

     



 

"You told me you didn't want to get crazy. You're bordering close to that right now."

His broad shoulders jerked, but he didn't step back and he didn't stop   his barrage. "Is it crazy to acknowledge the sexual connection between   us?"

"Stop-"

"Is it crazy to realize we have many things in common?"

"We have nothing in common." Her heart beat in double time.

His stare never wavered. "Is it crazy to think of what we could create between us?"

"What could we possibly create between us other than anger?"

"What do a man and a woman together often create?"

Sucking in a shocked breath, she stared at him, stunned. "You can't mean-"

"The thought has crossed my mind that neither of us is getting any younger."

"My God. You are crazy." She straightened, the realization stunning her,   although it shouldn't have. For all his I want yous and passionate   kisses, what he actually wanted was a breeder.

Dante was not only crazy. He was cold to the core.

"Not in the slightest." His mouth tightened and his brows furrowed. "I'm practical."

"We're not talking about a business. We are talking about-"

"It has also not escaped my notice you like and enjoy children." His   words cut her off as if what she had to say was of little importance.

Her gut churned, a mix of potent anger and hurt.

Dammit.

Hurt.

He didn't want her. Not truly. He only wanted someone to give birth to his children.

His hands slipped into his pockets. "As do I."

A vivid memory of her shock as she watched him with his nephew at the   wedding reception hours ago flew through her mind. She hadn't expected   it, hadn't believed it. Yet it had been right in front of her,   impossible to ignore. The easy way he held the boy. The slight softening   of his grim features. The way the boy laughed up into his uncle's face   with complete trust.

Dante would be a good father, she'd thought.

Struggling past the memory of what she'd thought at that moment, she tried to marshal her resources. "I don't want children."

"That is why you are opening a school for dozens?"

"I'm not ready to have children. Certainly not your children."

"I believe there's a saying in your adopted country." Irony crept around his words.

"I'm sure there's nothing I can say to stop you from telling me."