"Um. Um-"
"And I'll look forward to hearing about your project." With a last laughing gaze, he strode off into the crowd.
She twirled around, the anger ripening. "You did it again."
"Not technically." Her husband's eyes were intent and direct. "But tomorrow I'll be getting another donation for your school. Count on it."
"I don't think that man is going to be as readily intimidated as the Marchonds were."
"Definitely not." His hand settled back onto her hip and drew her in. "I know a bit about Vico's past, though, and he has a soft spot for kids in need."
A soft spot? In that man? She couldn't imagine. "Okay, but that's the end of it. No more soliciting tonight. Or ever."
"I can't think of a better cause than your schools." Dante surveyed the crowd surrounding them, clearly looking for more prey. Clearly brushing off her wishes once more. "Virtually everyone here owes me and I mean to collect."
"No. I don't want you to talk about my school with anyone else."
"You are not thinking straight." A frown crossed his brow. Exasperation laced through every word. "I plan on doing it several more times."
"No!"
"Tonight." He glanced around, plainly looking for his newest target.
The old rage flashed through her. Here was the real Dante, clear and complete and in her face. Not caring what she thought or wanted. All about him and his decisions and desires. The tiny glimpses of a different man, a man of warmth and humor, were an illusion in her mind. "You never listen to me," she charged, anger churning through every word.
He looked at her with blank astonishment. He might be a Neanderthal, but he'd obviously picked up on her emotions. "I listen-"
"The happy couple." A throaty feminine voice broke in on their private fight.
Lara jerked around and found a tall blonde standing by their side. Curves and dips, the envy of any woman, were set off by a tight black dress. Dark blue eyes met hers, filled with lively intelligence and avid interest.
"Anika." Her husband had switched back to his mild manner. His voice gave nothing away except composed acceptance.
"Dante." The blonde nodded his way, yet kept her focus on Lara. "Nice to see you."
"And you." His hand fisted at Lara's side, distracting her from the remnants of her anger. She peered at her husband's face. His mouth was tight. Who was this woman?
"This must be your new wife," Anika purred.
"Si." His mouth tightened further until a white line appeared around the edge. "May I introduce my wife, Lara."
The blonde extended an elegant hand and gave her a friendly smile. "I'm pleased to meet you."
"This is Anika Nordman." His voice was still calm, but now also cold. "An acquaintance of mine."
"Acquaintance?" Blue eyes narrowed and then began to dance. "Oh, Dante. I've forgotten your old-fashioned sense of propriety. Am I putting you in a bad position?"
Her husband's arm stiffened. "Not at all."
Lara switched her focus from her husband to the beautiful blonde. She didn't need to be told this was more than an acquaintance. A past lover, she'd bet. A slick of jealousy ran up her spine, yet Anika seemed likable, welcoming. There was no hint of competition or animosity coming from her.
"Now you're lying to me." Anika laughed, a deep, vibrant sound. She turned to Lara and gave her another open smile. "I better go before Dante has a temper tantrum."
"I do not have temper tantrums."
The blonde ignored him. "It was nice to meet you, Lara. Just so you know, you have a gem here. A real man who's as gorgeous inside as out."
She gazed into the blue eyes and saw only friendliness. "Thank you."
"Goodbye, darling." Before he could move away, Anika kissed him full on the lips, leaving a streak of brilliant red as a token. "I'm glad for you."
With a last pat on his broad chest, she sauntered away, heading towards the bar.
"We are leaving," Dante asserted, his tone brisk. Pulling out his mobile phone, he pressed a series of buttons before slipping it into his pocket.
His hand landed on Lara's elbow and guided her through the open doors leading into the marble foyer of the private home where the party was being held. She found herself battling amusement. Her husband was rattled by a lone blonde. He could handle a feeding frenzy of financiers, but not one single woman.
"I thought you were going to help me raise more money for my schools?" she teased him.
His glance at her was filled with frost. "Not tonight."
They were out the door in seconds. The black limo they'd arrived in was already waiting for them at the curb. Her husband might be rattled, but he was still efficient.
"Why not?" she managed to say as she was stuffed into the open door.
He didn't answer as he settled into the butter-soft black leather. A short spat of Italian to the driver and the limo smoothly pulled out of the circular driveway.
Lara eased herself into the far corner and turned to watch her husband's profile. Stern and aloof. His mask. But she had a feeling she had a wedge that could peel that mask away. "Why not tonight, Dante?"
"I thought you didn't want me to ask anyone for money for your schools?" he declared, his tone sharp.
The best defense was a good offense. Her husband was no fool. She suddenly realized this was something she relished about him. He never discounted her intelligence. That had been Gerry's biggest weapon against her. "Yet you were determined to do it anyway."
"You didn't want me to so I saw no reason to stay any longer." His shoulders rolled and his body stretched, all Latin fluidity.
The return of the sexual heat they'd shared at the party threatened to scramble her wits. She wasn't quite ready to give up the joust, though. "You might want to wipe her lipstick off your mouth."
With an exclamation of disgust, he whipped a snowy white handkerchief from his pocket and got rid of the evidence.
"Who is she?"
His broad palm tightened on his knee. "Scusa?"
The man was trying to buy some time, but he was out of luck. She slid further into the leather seat and watched his every move. "Anika."
He swallowed. "An acquaintance."
"Come on, Dante."
The mask slipped. He turned his head and glared at her with blazing eyes. "I should not have had to introduce my wife to her. That was not respectful to you."
"Why?" She was intrigued as she saw the passionate man emerge from the controlled cover. It was as if he housed himself in a layer of steel, the real man hiding behind a curtain of reserve. The contrast between the two parts of him fascinated her and frustrated her.
"She knew I would be displeased," he continued to rant. "Yet she pushed herself on you."
"How horrible of her."
His hands fisted on his thighs once more. "She gave me no choice unless I wanted to make a scene."
"Or have a temper tantrum."
Another dark glare spiked her way. "I owe you an apology. I should have found some way around the situation. It is disrespectful to introduce a mistress to a wife."
"Interesting," she hummed. "A rule regarding appropriate contact between wife and mistress. Have you written every one of your rules down in one book? I'd love to read it."
"Lara." Frustration oozed from him.
She couldn't help one more poke. Pushing back the sliver of jealousy, she baited, "Current mistress?"
"Cazzo." He glanced at her again, a ferocious frown on his brow. "Past," he bit out.
"Right." No man could do what he did with her in their bedroom every night and have any energy for another woman. It was more than that, however. Deep inside, she knew this man would never cheat on her.
Dante would never cheat.
The knowledge landed like a sledgehammer in her soul. The man might have blackmailed her into marriage, yet he would never cheat on her. How could two such different principles reside in the same person? Confusion swirled inside her head. He was a puzzle she couldn't put together into a complete picture.
The limo glided into the underground parking lot beneath their apartment. It barely slowed to a crawl before he yanked the door open and in a lithe surge exited the car with suppressed irritation. The driver didn't have a chance to open her door before her husband's strong hand was thrust before her. "Vene."
Come.
Another odious command.