The Reluctant Wife (8 page)

Nana Taylor looked at Dante. “You look after her, my boy. She’s one in a million.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

As they wheeled her grandmother away, Dante hugged her close. “She’ll be fine, mio fiore.”

She hugged him hard, not wanting to let him go. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I promise, Abby. Your grandmother will be all right.”

For the first time in many months, it wasn’t her grandmother she was scared for. Why was Dante having tests performed? He suddenly was welcoming her back into his life when he hadn’t bothered to contact her in three years. Now he was desperate for children right away. Why? She stood holding him so tight she could feel her arms tremble with effort. She’d lost him once before due to her own stupidity. She swore under her breath she wouldn’t lose him again.

“There is no need to be afraid, Abby. I’ll not leave you. You’re a Lombardi. Whatever happens, you’ll never be alone.”

She finally let him go. “I know. Blame it on that time of the month. I’m overemotional.”

Dante accepted her answer and went to get her some tea. She watched him walk away. His presence always filled a room. He walked in anywhere and immediately owned it. Everyone looked to him, the natural-born leader. He was the head of a huge family empire, employees and shareholders his responsibility. He was the head of his family, and their welfare was his concern.

She felt her heart expand in her chest. Who was there for Dante? He might have shoulders that could hold up the world, but who did he turn to when he needed help? Everyone needed help. Everyone needed someone. There was something Dante was not telling her. Not telling anyone. She knew his wanting her back in his bed was not something he’d decided on a whim two nights ago. He always did things for a reason.

Now that she knew about Dr. Cavelli, she was going to find out what that reason was. If it was anything like the suspicions flooding her brain, making her sick to her stomach, then she would be Dante’s rock. His support. She would hold up the world for him. She owed him that.

No. She wasn’t doing it because she owed him. She would do it because she loved him. At some point during the twelve months of her marriage when she lived in house and shared his bed, her girlish infatuation had grown into love. That’s why she’d run away. She’d been terrified he’d never love her back. But she had enough love for the both of them. He loved her in his own way, and maybe that could be good enough. Besides, she had given her word. He’d more than helped her grandmother. She would fulfill her side of their deal.

Chapter Ten

Dante inwardly cursed. He should have stayed at work this afternoon, but all week, since Mrs. Taylor had been released from the hospital and Abby had come home, he’d been on edge. His body was a mass of raw, pounding testosterone.

The deal with Zanetti was progressing well, but Dante’s takeover target had asked to meet Abby, his long-absent wife. No doubt Zanetti would be suspicious of Abby’s sudden return just when the deal hinged on selling the Zanetti empire to a man with the right values. Rumors were rife about Abby’s sudden reappearance in Dante’s life. Everyone knew she’d applied to the Italian courts for a divorce. No doubt Zanetti wished to see for himself if their reunion was legitimate or simply a means to win his company.

Dante agreed that he and Abby would join the deeply religious man’s family for dinner that evening. Abby was of course nervous. She knew this was a farce and she’d already told him she wasn’t a skilled actress. The fact he wasn’t yet invited to permanently share her bed didn’t help the situation. They were both on edge.

Seeing Abby in his house every day, taking up the reins as mistress of the house, his wife, yet not able to have her in his bed, was slowly driving him insane. Never a patient man, his body recognized the urgency to procreate. He knew the driving restlessness was because his next batch of monthly tests was scheduled for next week, and he had a terrible feeling the news would not be good.

It wasn’t only that. Gripped by an unrefined, primitive hunger, he was forced to confront an inescapable truth—he not only desired his wife, but his defunct heart beat faster, felt lighter, whenever she was near. She’d brought joy back into his life. He hadn’t smiled at a joke or felt light-headed from a woman’s fragrance and simple touch for what felt like forever. If he understood love he might just think this was it.

He wished it wasn’t so. He purposely kept away from her, trying to deny and destroy those tender feelings. Sighing, he wished for a lot of things. He wished… He didn’t want to face what he wished for. He was a realist.

He wanted the deal with Zanetti, needed it. If something happened to him, with the merging of the two companies, the Lombardi empire would be untouchable. He’d have protected all his family and his employees, while ensuring his father’s legacy. With an angry tug, he loosened his tie and pulled it from his neck, walking through the house like an exhausted man who thought he had crossed the finish line of the marathon, only to learn he still had one more lap of the circuit to run. He felt defeated and for once he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

Was misleading Abby, forcing a child on a woman who, if she had a choice, would not be here in his house, let alone in his bed, the right thing to do? If something should happen to him, if his test results were positive, bringing up a child on her own would be tough.

With more force than necessary, he removed his gold cuff links and threw them on the sideboard. He was tempted to pour himself a large brandy, but it was only one in the afternoon. He shouldn’t drink—he needed a clear head tonight to get both of them through this dinner where they would be put under the spotlight. Ignoring the alcohol sitting in the decanter, he made his way through the villa, nodding to Pietro as he neared the sun terrace.

“The contessa is swimming, and your mother has taken Mrs. Taylor for a drive and to visit friends.” Pietro’s words were followed by an insinuating smile.

Dante’s pulse kicked up a gear. He was alone in the house with Abby. No mother, sisters, or grandmother.

“When do you expect them to return?” The gruffness in his voice betrayed his eagerness.

“Not until six. You have at least four hours. I’ve persuaded Rachele to accompany me to the markets for supplies. We will be gone all afternoon, too.”

“Remind me to pay you a bonus, Pietro,” Dante said to his smiling majordomo.

Images of how he’d like to spend the afternoon immediately assailed his mind. They needed to connect in order to make their performance tonight a success. Besides, he wanted her. The tension in his body increased. He dropped his tie on the floor and, without any conscious thought, his strides lengthened as he approached the pool, undoing his shirt buttons as he walked. By the time he reached the pool’s edge, he’d stripped down to bare skin. One look at the water, or what was in the water, had his body thrumming with need. Abby was swimming laps in a skimpy two-piece suit that revealed more flesh than it covered. Her pale skin had taken on a golden glow from time spent in the sun, and she looked like a curvaceous sun goddess.

She looked good enough to eat.

The blood left his brain and he dived in, unable to resist her allure. He swam underwater and grabbed Abby’s ankle. She shrieked and floundered in the water until he pulled her hard against him. To his surprise, she did not fight him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, snuggling closer. His eyes met hers and raw chemistry exploded between them.

“Dante, you’re home early.”

Doubting that he was capable of speech, Dante licked his lips. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

She pressed closer. “A very good thing.” She pressed her lips to his.

Her sweet taste and the sultry hint of her natural fragrance wrapped around his senses like a magic spell. He groaned and cupped her bottom, rubbing her against the hardened part of him that desperately wanted to be buried deep within her. It was as if his body recognized that she was his mate, his partner, his wife. It was just the two of them. Nothing but breathing and heartbeats as he lost himself in her kiss. He couldn’t have ended the kiss if he’d tried.

When one of her dainty hands skimmed down his chest, fingers trailing over his stomach until they wrapped around the rigid length of him, Dante forgot everything. At Abby’s moan, Dante deepened the kiss. He moved them purposely through the water until they found the steps, and then he lifted her away from him and out of the water until she lay partway out of the pool, her legs trailing in the water on the steps.

He moved between her parted thighs and his strong fingers pulled free the tie of her bikini top. She tried to reach for him but he pushed her hands away. One of his large hands palmed her breast, pushing the material aside. She gasped as his fingers gently teased the soft peak, the gasp turning into a moan when he dragged his lips from hers and licked where his fingers had been. He bent over her and dragged her hardened nipple into his hot, wet mouth. She lay back, allowing him his way. He, the skilled master, stroking her pleasure, unable to be denied. When he spread her thighs with determined hands she didn’t resist.

His fingers were less patient as the scrap of bikini bottom was torn from her body. His lack of control thrilled her. He was not as immune to her as he’d tried to make out these last ten days. She felt his warm breath tantalizingly close, and then there was only pleasure. The unerring accuracy of his tongue and each skilled stroke was so good that Abby almost exploded. Her hands found his hair, gripping hard. Dante’s grip on her thighs tightened, as if he could not get enough of her. It felt so good, too good. It was too much. Abby called his name as her body was rocked by wave after wave of sensation after delicious sensation. Then he was above her again, lifting her back into the water. Pulling her deep into the pool where her feet couldn’t touch the ground. She clung to him with her arms wound around his neck and her heart still pounding in her chest. The tepid water felt luscious against her naked skin.

“I’ve missed the taste of you. I’ve been hungry for it, and I’ve only just whetted my appetite.” His husky confession penetrated the sensual fog that surrounded her brain and her eyes flew to his.

She remembered what the heat in his eyes meant. He would spend hours this afternoon pleasuring her until his fire was spent. Her body, attuned to his urgent need, began to burn once more. Still holding his gaze, Abby moved closer and kissed him gently on the mouth. She felt his heart beating so fast under the palm of her hand.

“Your heart recognizes me. I can feel it pounding in your chest.” Abby greedily stared at his bronzed shoulders and powerful chest, too afraid to see the response to her words in his eyes.

“Abby…” He reached out a hand and lifted her chin so her eyes met his. They seemed to be saying all that he could not. For a moment neither of them spoke.

“I should have let you go.” His voice was rough and his beautiful mouth curved into a cynical smile.

His words made her breath hitch. “I’m glad you didn’t. You have made me face things about myself and our marriage.”

“Like what?”

She trailed her hand in the water and looked away. “I should never have married you. I was too young and inexperienced, not worldly enough for a man of your standing. No wonder you never loved me. I was too immature to know what love was. I confused desire with love, and when I realized I loved you, I ran. I didn’t think a man like you would ever come to love the girl I was.”

She felt one shoulder under her hand tighten.

“I wasn’t looking for love. And I did—do desire you. Isn’t that enough? Love is too painful. It makes loss unbearable…”

“Loss is part of life.” She cupped his face in her palm. “No. Why should I settle for less than your heart? A man like you could have any woman he wanted. Why marry a young, naive woman who didn’t know what love truly was? I was infatuated, swept away by all this.” She waved her hand over the pool, house, and then Dante. He tried to speak but she placed a finger over his lips. “You married me because you wanted children. I know, you’ve told me. But why me in particular? It could have been any woman.”

She watched Dante’s internal struggle. He knew the reason, but would he admit it?

“Want me to tell you why?”

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing, but before he could respond, she leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Because your heart and body recognized something in me. Your brain might try to deny it, but there is an overwhelming, chemical attraction between us. You can try as much as you like to keep me at arm’s length, but you’re fighting a losing battle.”

“You’re wrong. This is purely physical. You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman. Any man would want you.”

She pushed her breasts against his chest and watched the flare of need in his eyes. “I’m not nineteen anymore. I know the difference between desire and love. The other afternoon, before Nana’s operation, what we shared was so far from just sex. It was lovemaking at its most exhilarating. You—made—love—to—me.” She emphasized each word by poking him with her finger. She let go of his neck and lay back in the water. “Let’s see if you’re man enough to own up to it.”

She watched the proud man before her fight against himself. She knew she could win.

What a prize Dante’s heart would be. Dante was the only man she would ever love. She knew with certainty that this was where she belonged. She was done fighting against her fear that he would never love her. At nineteen, Abby hadn’t known how to handle Dante, the rich, experienced, worldly Italian conte. Now she saw through his outer armor to the man underneath. Dante was a man like any other, with his own fears and limitations.

He was her man, and he loved her, no matter what he said—or didn’t say. A woman knows. She would do anything and everything to make him admit what she was sure was in his heart.

He loved her. It’s why he’d never pushed for a divorce. Of course! True, he hadn’t come to find her, but she was positive that her leaving had shocked him to his core. He’d been afraid to come for her. Afraid to love her. She would show him love was nothing to be afraid of.

She relished her newfound power over her husband and watched his eyes flare with heated longing as she ran her hands over her breasts and lower toward her hips.

“Stop fighting yourself and come love me,” she said.

“I never could resist you, mio fiore.”

“I’m not asking you to resist me.”

Dante’s eyes darkened as they drifted over her, and his hands tightened on her thighs. His gaze was penetrating and her entire body was on fire. The contrast of cool water against her heated skin, the sun baking overhead, intensified the whole experience. He finally pulled her back into his arms and took her mouth in a kiss as scorching as the sun above them.

“My Abby. Resisting is impossible…”

She moaned with relief as he slid one hand down her back and then lower still. Her body squirmed in anticipation. Abby rose from the water to hug him, pressing skin to skin. He was hard and ready against her. His mouth still on hers, Dante lifted her and held her tight as she slid in glorious slowness down the full length of him. She moaned and moved to take all of him deep within her. She couldn’t hold still, the urge to move driving her to lift and lower until his hands gripped her hips, holding her fast. The harsh sound of his breathing indicated his unsteady state.

“Don’t move.” His voice strained, he drew his mouth from hers just enough to speak. “I won’t last very long, but I promise to spend the rest of the afternoon loving you.”

Her heart bloomed at the word “loving.” Now she was sure this marriage could work. Dante had so much love locked up inside. If she could just break through the fortress, she knew he could learn to love her.

She could feel Dante deep within her, and his control slipping, along with his mask, was a powerful aphrodisiac. In his hungry state, his taut features were magnetic, and she couldn’t look away. They revealed how much of his soul he tried to hide from her, but here, now, the curtain had been ripped aside. His eyes allowed her to finally glimpse his emotions. They were filled with wild and turbulent longing, and she kissed him hungrily, her tongue seeking his.

“Abby…,” he cried against her mouth. “I need you.”

She closed her eyes and savored his words, surrendering to the electric sensations shooting through her body at his experienced touch. But she could feel the tension thrumming through his body too. He was close to his release, and Abby was determined to be right there with him when he finally tipped them both over into paradise. She felt him hard and unyielding inside her. He gave a low growl and pulled her closer until they became one.