She looked at him, surprised, and then nodded, once.
Curiosity sparked in his gut, but he tamped down on it. One call to his lawyers, and he’d have this accidental marriage annulled.
“I should go,” she said, obviously with no knowledge of who he was, and what situation they were in.
“A moment.” He’d been out of the Italian army several years, but his easy command had nothing to do with his military rank and everything to do with who he was. A natural born leader. A man who could walk into any room and take control. Sure enough, she stood frozen to the spot, her throat shifting delicately as she swallowed. As though she were afraid of him? He cursed under his breath.
Yes. She was afraid. This timid, tiny woman with the incredible mane of golden hair was looking at him like he was the big bad wolf.
And wasn’t he?
Hadn’t he made self-destruction an artform, since Marco?
“We need to talk about last night.”
“I thought you said nothing happened.”
“No, I said we did not sleep together.” He moved closer towards her, but she took a step backwards. He suppressed a growl. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her smile was forced. “I didn’t think you were.”
“You are acting like a tiny little mouse, faced with a lion.”
“I think lions are afraid of mice,” she said, earning an arch of his brow. “And I’m just…not used to being in this situation. I don’t,” she waved a hand around the room, as if that finished her sentence, then expelled a sharp breath and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t go back to hotel rooms with guys I’ve just met. This isn’t me.”
He tamped down on that same streak of curiosity. How she lived her life, why she made her choices, was not for him toquestion. Whatever insanity had led them to get married was irrelevant.
“We have both done something uncharacteristic then,cara.We need to talk.”
Her brow furrowed, her lips pursed. “We really don’t.”
“Dio mio,” he snapped. “Are you always this stubborn?”
Her eyes flared to his. “I’m not being stubborn. I just want to get out of here.”
“And believe me, I have no interest in holding you hostage. That’s not my style.”
“I can well imagine.” Her eyes dropped, as if against her will, to his chest, and lingered there, so a hint of amusement curled through him, despite his impatience. She was looking at him as though he were a lollipop she wanted to devour. But then she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, her eyes shifting to the window beyond him. “I feel like I know you.” Her voice was wary.
He moved away from her, into the large kitchen, flicking the espresso machine to life.
“We met for the first time last night.”
“Are you—,” again, she stopped speaking.
“That is a very annoying habit.”
“What?”
“You start to say something, and then stop.”
She gnawed on her lip. “I’m…in an unusual situation. I’m trying to think things through.”
So perhaps she did remember, after all?
“What situation is that?”
Her eyes lifted to his then fell away again, like she was shutting him out. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” Her eyes jerked around the room. “I don’t know where my bag is.”
