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

mused. “From some gossip and three brief meetings between us.”
    She would not retreat. She would not allow him to withdraw inside himself without letting him know exactly what she thought of him. Someone had to tell him how awful he’d become. “You have become the most cold-blooded man I know.”
    He appeared completely unfazed by her comments. However, his long fingers curled into his palm. “More cold-blooded than your husband was, bella ?”
    The strike was stunning and accurate. It cut into her like a fine blade, right to the bone. He’d taken her one stupid slip in the church and jumped to conclusions. The correct conclusions, but he didn’t know that for sure.
    Wrenching her head around, she stared at the passing scenery. She couldn’t look at him now, couldn’t challenge him. The shock of his words might show on her face, and then he would know his guess had been more accurate than he realized.
    Yet she could not escape the gaping hole in her heart he’d sliced open. She knew she still carried enormous baggage from her marriage. Rage and bitterness and self-pity mixed in with loss and pain and self-hate. And now, somehow, some way, these emotions had laced around her memories of this man, their past, his actions against her, magnifying them inside her like a horrid brew of destruction.
    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
    T hank God .
    The simple words echoed in his head.
    Thank God .
    The expression on her face when she’d said those telling