The Duke's Willful Wife (4 page)

The slow, merciless smile he sent her way made her stomach clench with anger and anticipation. 
“Ah, my love, but it really is my business.”

“How do you figure?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, a challenge in her eyes and defiance in the jut of her chin. 

“Because you are still my wife.  That means that whatever you do, it impacts me.”

“Good.  Maybe I’ll do a whole serious of nudes,” she snapped.

Dante laughed and shook his head.  “N
o
you won’t
, although I would love to see you try
.”

She couldn’t help squirming in her seat, so furious that she could barely see straight but she wasn’t going to let him get away with the idea that he could control her actions. 
“Really?  Do you think you could stop me?”

“I don’t even need
try
.”

“What?  You’re so all powerful that you think you
can tell me what I can or can’t paint
?”
  She was so furious she could barely speak coherently.  No man had been able t make her so furious, and so passionate.  “I’ll have you know that I’ll paint whatever I want, whenever I want.”

“I won’t have to stop you from doing any nudes and you know it.”

“I know nothing of the sort, you pompous bastard.”

“Again with
the name
calling, eh?”

“If the shoe fits,” she crossed her legs and shifted the angle of her body away from him. 

“
Y
ou not doing nudes has nothing to do with my
pomposity
or arrogance, another trait which you’ve consistently accused me of if I recall.”

“Both of which describe you perfectly.”

He didn’t even deign to reply to her comment.  “You won’t do a nude, simply because deep down, underneath all that silly
, irrelevant flightiness, you are
a prude.”

Sasha
opened her mouth to argue, but then pictured herself trying to paint a stranger’s picture while they posed naked and her face flamed with color.  She gritted her teeth at his chuckle.  “I can see you agree with my point.”

“I agree with nothing you say.  It’s always been your own opinion about the world and I’ve rarely agreed with how you see things.  So why don’t you just shut up and let me concentrate.”

His eyes softened slightly and she glanced out the window, seeing that they were about to land at the airport helipad and her heart lurched.  “The flight’s over?”

“Yes,” he said and touched her hand gripping the arm of her chair.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were afraid of flying?” he asked gently. 

Sasha
looked out the window of the helicopter and her heart lurched at his touch. 
For the moment, she was so relieved that the flight was about to end, her defenses were down and she answered honestly and without anger. 
“At the time, I wanted to be with you wherever you were in the world more than I was afraid.” 
The massive machine touched down at that moment and she unbuckled her seatbelt, unable to hold his eyes after that revealing statement. 
She stood up on shaky legs and walked out of the machine, bracing herself for the next flight, unaware of the stunned expression on Dante’s face, assuming he was right behind her.

Dante eventually followed her, but it took several moments to recover from her words.  They were casual, he thought as he climbed the private jet that would take them from London to Rome.  He glanced at her sitting in yet another leather seat, this time only slightly more relaxed than the last flight.  How he was going to get her through this take off he hadn’t yet figured out.  Or even if he was going to try it.  He took the seat opposite her instead of next to her and she turned away.  That didn’t bother him at all.  He appreciated the slight, needing to put things back into perspective. 

As the plane taxied down the runway, he pulled out several reports and started making notes in the margins, pretending to ignore
Sasha
and focus only on the numbers.  Five minutes later, they were speeding down the runway and he glanced up. 

With a curse, Dante unbuckled his seatbelt and moved across to the seat next to her.  Safety aside, he grabbed her head and pulled her towards him, surprising both of them with the kiss.  It wasn’t tentative.  He meant for the kiss to be a shock, to distract her until they were airborne and then he would push her away. 

But the moment his lips touched hers, his plan was gone.  The softness of her lips, the flowery scent of her hair and the feel of her skin under his hands as he held her head still for his caress, they all combined to undo him completely.  The insulting kiss he’d meant to deliver changed, his tongue touched her lips, demanding entry and when she opened for him, when he felt her shaking fingers on his hand, the kiss changed, softened, explored.  Gone was the anger, leaving in its wake only the tortuous need that had always
preceded
their lovemaking.  There had never been any hesitation with
Sasha
.  She was too vital, too
exciting.  And his common sense had always been overridden in her
presence
. 

After long minutes where their mouths explored, retuned to each other
and furthered their exploration
, Dante pulled back, his surprise reflected in her eyes as she stared back at him. 

He leaned back and cleared his throat.  “We’re
airborne
now,” he said, his voice husky and gruff.  He jerked away and moved back to the other side of the table, immediately picking up the reports again and writing
comments in the margins, acting as if nothing monumental had just occurred
.

Sasha
sat in stunned silence, watching him become completely absorbed in his work.  How he could
totally
disassociate from that kiss, she’d really like to know.  She tried to pretend like it was nothing, but she kept her hands in her lap so he wouldn’t know they were shaking so violently.

It had always been like this, she thought. 

She remembered
the first day she’d met Dante
like it was yesterday…..

Bundled up against the cold, biting wind, she’d been lugging her portfolio to the studio, head bent and intent on just getting out of the weather
as quickly as possible
.  She hadn’t seen the tall man heading in the same direction so when they both collided into the door at the same time, she’d looked up intending to apologize for being so clumsy.   But all words stopped in her throat as she looked up at the most handsome man she’d ever met in her life. 

“My fault,” he said with a lilting accent that instantly made her heartbeat increase.  And
his
smile….wow!  That smile combined with the eyes from the devil, eyes that showed her all the secret delights he’d like to share with her, and she was a gonner.

She tried to pull away, but the wind and her large, leather portfolio were making that awkward. 
“No, my fault.  I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she said, her hand limply holding the door. 

A gust of wind reared up at that moment, pushing
the
portfolio against her
legs
, almost causing her to lose her grip.  “Goodness,” she laughed and held onto her case while trying to keep her hair out of her eyes.  “I have to get this inside,” she said and stepped back.  She didn’t need to reach for the door because he already had it opened, waiting for her. 

She walked in ahead of him, smiling her shy thanks before ducking her head again and heading
into
the warmth. 

“Robert, here are the paintings,” she said and started to hand him the case but Robert ignore
d her, heading for the man she’d
ran into outside the studio
. 

“Senior Fuitello!  It’s so good of you to visit our little shop,” he gushed, extending his hand to the man she’d walked inside with. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, shaking Robert’s hand, but looking towards
Sasha
instead of facing Robert.

Instantly, Robert shifted his focus
, understanding exactly what the non-verbal language was screaming out between his wealthiest client and his most promising artist
.  “I see you’ve met our latest
‘
find
’
here at the gallery.  May I introduce you to Ms.
Sasha
Willard?
  Her paintings have been flying off the walls lately.”

He barely acknowledged Robert as he turned to fully face Sasha, not hiding his interest. 
“I’d like to see your work,” he said with that deep, sexy voice that instantly created an intimacy between the two of them
, excluding Robert and making the rest of the world disappear
.

“Oh….” She blushed and glanced down at her case.  “I don’t know if these are good enough,” she stammered.  “I was just bringing them in for Robert’s review
and opinion
.  He’s sort of been looking at my work and giving me advice lately.”

The man didn’t bother to respond, but simply raised one eyebrow as if to say, “
L
et me be the judge.”
  Which, of course, she did.  As she unzipped the case,
Sasha
wondered if everyone followed this man’s unspoken orders like that or if he had some sort of weird power over her. 

As the man flipped through her work,
Sasha
found herself
biting
her lip nervously.  Robert’s critique was important because he was one of the main players in the European art world.  Instinctively,
Sasha
knew that this man’s opinion would matter more
to her suddenly muddled mind
, and for completely different reasons. 
He flipped through more than her latest paintings but he also glanced at her sketches and some charcoal drawings she’d been working on recently. 

His face revealed nothing and
Sasha
’s heart sank with the rejection.  
When Robert reviewed her work, she could take his critique and learn from it.  A negative response from this man was crushing and painful. 
With anger, she
pulled the case away and started to zip them up.  “Robert, we’ll discuss these later.” 

She couldn’t look the man in the eyes, too hurt by his rejection of her work, which was personal and therefore a rejection of her.  He
couldn’t know how his opinion had instinctively mattered to her and
so it was silly of her to be
this
sensitive, but she couldn’t help it. 

He laid a hand on hers, creating instant heat that obliterated the cold, stopping her from closing her portfolio. 
“I’ll take them,” he said and turned to Robert.  “Have them framed
appropriately
and sent over to my office.” 

Turning
back
to
Sasha
, he looked down at her with a slight smile.  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

She had to take a step back, horrified by his outlandish statement. 
Both of them were outrageous but she focused on the first statement, since it was easier to deal with. 
She knew how much Robert charged for her pieces and this man hadn’t asked the price at all.  He might think she was a new artist and was pretty cheap, but Robert was nothing if not mercenary.

“You can’t buy all three of them,” she gasped and shook her head.  “You don’t even know the price.”

“I want all three.  And I want you to have dinner with me.  Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock.”

“But…” she looked from the tall stranger to Robert who was practically salivating at the easy sale.  Robert was already pulling the case and all towards him and
Sasha
knew that her works would disappear into some back room. 

She grabbed her case and pulled them back.  “Sir, you really should reconsider.”

“There’s nothing to reconsider.  Dinner, eight o’clock.”  He turned to Robert.  “
Y
ou’ll send her address to my office, si?’ he said and without waiting for an answer, turned back to
Sasha
.  “Until tonight, mia bella.  I look forward to seeing you again.”

Sasha
watched
as the man walked out and turned left, disappearing down the street.  When he was out of her sight, she turned back to glare at a gloating Robert, smacking him on the arm.  “Don’t you dare send all three of those paintings to that man. 
Just one and you pick out the best one of the selection I brought. 
And don’t gouge him on the one you’re going to send over.”
  She bit her lip, worrying that the paintings she brought might not be her best work and her mind frantically sifted through her other pieces, trying to think if she had something better.