Free Wife By Force: International Billionaires II: The Italians by Caro LaFever

needed some buffers.
    Dante stepped in and the door closed.
    “What about the rest of the family?” she protested.
    He unbuttoned his coat and eased back along the seat. “They have all been assigned to different cars.”
    “Assigned by you.”
    “Correct.” He glanced at her, obsidian gaze once again unreadable.
    “You made sure I would be riding with you to the villa.”
    “ Si. ”
    “Alone.”
    “ Si .” His focus never left her face.
    “Do you have any idea the gossip this is going to start?”
    “I am not in the habit of worrying about what people say about me.” He finally released her from his scrutiny and stared out the window.
    “Your sisters are going to suspect the worst.” She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him. The sunlight played a serenade across his olive skin, the black of his hair, the long blade of his nose.
    “The worst?”
    “Us. Together. A pair.”
    His gaze landed on her once more while his hand clenched on his lap. “Paired with me? The worst?”
    “Yes.” She couldn’t make her position any clearer.
    His hand shot out and pulled her across his warm, muscled body. “You have managed to make me annoyed with only a few words.”
    Stunned at his sudden move, she sagged into his heat, and for a moment, only a moment, she was tempted to stay.
    One long finger pushed her chin up. Instead of his blank stare, she saw the embers of velvet warmth. “The impact you have on me,” he muttered. “Remarkable.”
    Then his mouth slammed onto hers and she was lost. Waves of heated male energy poured over her and into her. His hard lips told her he was irritated, his tongue told her he wanted no more of her words. He gave no concessions, only demands.
    Against her will, she filled every one of them.
    “Wait—” she managed to say when he slipped his mouth to her neck.
    But his lips caught hers once again and he pulled her under his spell. His arms tugged her into his body, surrounding her with his searing need. It startled her, over and over, the difference between his cold exterior and his hot passion.
    Unexpectedly, he let her go. Set her away from him in one abrupt shift.
    A haze of desire kept her from finding any words of rejection. Breathing was about the best she could do at the moment. Her mind and body were filled with a mist of pleasure that refused to clear.
    “I will give you some advice.”
    She started at the cool cut of words. His voice was bland, though she detected the ruthless current underneath. He was still irritated. Sudden inexplicable elation pumped through her. She’d been able to penetrate the ice surrounding him. The impulse to keep pushing him could not be contained. “I don’t need your advice.”
    “Nevertheless, you will have it.”
    She braved a glance his way. His face was turned from her, his gaze fastened on the flow of red-tiled houses and cypress trees passing by. He was trying to draw back behind his shell, his mask. However, she wouldn’t let him. “Why would I take advice from a man whose priorities are upside down?”
    His mouth tightened. “What does that mean?”
    “All you care about is money, position, power. I’ve been listening to your sisters for months.”
    “Listening to gossip.” He made a disparaging sound.
    “Listening to information,” she countered. “They love you for some reason, but it’s clear what kind of man you’ve become.”
    His big body relaxed against the leather, all male elegance and casual interest. “Please. Continue. Give me more of your lovely conclusions about my character.”
    She was beginning to see beneath his mask. Slight clues, yet they were there if she was very observant. He was taut with tension. She was sure of it. A delicious thrill of daring ran through her. “A man who spends all his time at work.”
    “Mmm.”
    “A man who directs his family like a tyrant.”
    “Ah.”
    “A man who only thinks about his next deal, his next billion, his next power play.”
    “All this,” he