Free Once a Ferrara Wife... by Sarah Morgan Page A

all the work.’
    The corners of his mouth tilted in appreciative humour. ‘Of course. You were worried about the workload. It wasn’t because I rocked your world.’
    ‘I didn’t see enough of you for you to rock my world. At the most you were a faint tremble.’
    ‘So if I had so little impact on your life, why did you pack two inhalers to come to this wedding?’
    ‘Are there two in my bag?’ She feigned surprise and his lashes swept down over his eyes, concealing his expression, but not before she’d seen the flash of exasperation.
    ‘I wish you would learn to be honest about your feelings.’
    ‘I wish you would learn not to let your feelings spill out. I suppose I have to make allowances for the fact you’re Sicilian.’
    ‘Allowances?’
    It was a relief to know she could still irritate him. Two minutes, she thought, and then he’d be ranting in Italian and storming out.
She was relying on it.
‘Being Sicilian is a handicap in life,’ she murmured sympathetically. ‘Being emotional is welded into your DNA. You can’t help it.’
    ‘Not everyone is afraid of emotions.’ He undid the cuffs of his shirt in a slow, deliberate movement. ‘But you are. Terrified. Two-inhalers terrified.’
    She wondered why he was removing his jacket when what he should really be doing was redoing his bow tie and returning to the party.
    When she remained silent he raised an eyebrow and dropped his cufflinks onto the small writing table that faced the sea. ‘What, no comeback, Laurel? No incendiary statement designed to make me walk out? That’s what you want,isn’t it? Do you think I don’t know that?’ The sleeves of his shirt flopped over his strong hands and he folded them back and pushed them up his arms. She remembered those arms holding her and immediately looked away, rejecting the powerful surge of need. She’d always found it unfair that someone with such a casual attitude to his appearance could look so good in every situation.
    ‘You can stay or go, I don’t care. I don’t need you.’
    ‘Need and want are two different things.’ He looked at the inhaler clutched in her palm. ‘So your attacks are brought on by stress. That’s interesting. You weren’t stressed when we were together.’
    ‘As I said, that’s because I never saw you,’ she said sweetly. ‘I’ve seen more of you in the last twenty-four hours than I ever did during our marriage. Probably why I’m stressed.’
    ‘I’m stressed too. You are enough to drive a man crazy.’ His low drawl connected with her insides and suddenly that melting feeling low in her pelvis was back.
    ‘You only have to survive my company until Sunday. My flight leaves first thing in the morning.’
    ‘We have a meeting with the lawyers tomorrow morning.’
    ‘I don’t need to speak to them. Agree whatever you want and it will be fine by me.’
    The mattress moved as he sat down next to her. ‘If you’re that angry with me then this is your chance to bleed me dry.’
    ‘It was never about the money, you know that.’
    ‘I don’t know anything because you never share anything. A relationship with you is one big guessing game.’ He sounded tired and witnessing that was a thousand times more unsettling than his anger or sarcasm because she’d never seen him tired. Cristiano had more energy than any man she’d ever met.
    ‘If you’d been around more you wouldn’t have had to guess.’ On that terrible day—
the day he’d missed
—her feelingshad been there for all to see. Except the only witnesses had been the staff of the private hospital. Competent but brisk, they’d had no idea of the extent of her desolation. ‘I’ll fly home tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is your ex-wife at your sister’s wedding.’
    ‘Wife.’ The words were soft but firm. ‘You’re not my ex-wife.’
    ‘Soon will be.’ It was so dangerous, being this close to him. She didn’t dare look at him. Didn’t dare move in case she brushed against him,