The Vengeful Husband (The Husband Hunters 2)

Luca now surveyed her with thunderous disbelief. "That's a joke...isn't it?'

'Of course it's not a joke!' Darcy grimaced at the idea. 'Why would I joke about something so serious?'

As Luca sat up in one sudden powerful movement the sheet fell away from his magnificent torso. Outrage blazed in his dark eyes, his lean features clenched taut. 'Are you out of your tiny mind?' he roared back at her, making her flinch in shock from such unexpected aggression. 'I'm an extremely wealthy man...and as my wife, you dare to tell me that you plan to drag the Raffacani name in the dirt by scuttling round the banking fraternity begging for a loan? Are you trying to make me a laughing-stock?'

Darcy gazed back at him in stunned immobility. That possibility hadn't occurred to her. Nor, at that instant, would the prospect have deprived her of sleep.

'Accidenti...' Luca swore rawly, thrusting back the sheet and springing lithely from the bed to appraise her with dia¬mond-hard eyes of condemnation. 'I now see that I have found a foe worthy of my mettle! You are one cunning little vixen! And if you dare put one foot inside the door of any financial institution, I will throw you out of my life the same day!'

A foe worthy of his mettle? An unearned compliment, Darcy conceded abstractedly, her attention wholly en¬trapped by the glorious spectacle of Luca striding naked up and down the bedroom with clenched fists of fury. Gosh, he was gorgeous.

Glossy black hair, fabulous bone struc¬ture, eyes of wonderful vibrance. Broad shoulders, power¬ful chest, slim hips, long, long legs. The whole encased in wonderful golden skin, adorned with muscles and intrigu¬ing patches of black curly hair. All male.

She looked away, cheeks hot, shame enfolding her. She was so physically infatuated with the man she couldn't even concentrate on arguing with him. It was utterly disgusting. 'OK,' Luca snarled, further provoked by that seemingly stony and defiant silence. 'This is the deal. I will take over temporary responsibility for all bills relating to the Folly estate!'

Shaken by so unexpected not to mention so unwelcome a suggestion, Darcy turned aghast eyes on him. ‘No wav...why would you want to do that?'

'I don't want to...but that arrangement would be pref¬erable to placing an open chequebook into those hot, greedy little hands of yours! Porca miseria!' Luca shot her an in¬timidating glower of angry derision. 'The bedsheets are not even cooled before you start trying to rip me off again!'

He had a mind as complex as a maze, Darcy conceded, lost in wonder at such involved logic. He was so incredibly suspicious of her motives. All she had tried to do was stress how very urgently she needed to return home to sort out those problems with the estate, but Luca had flown off on another tangent entirely. He honestly believed that she had just tried to blackmail him.

Admittedly, it should have dawned on her that he might be sensitive to the idea of his wife seeking to borrow money when he himself was filthy rich, but the reason it hadn't dawned on her was that she didn't feel remotely married to him.

'I don't want your rotten money...I've already told you that.'

'Dio mio...you will not seek to borrow anywhere else!' Luca asserted fiercely.

'That's not fair,' Darcy protested.

'Who ever said that I would be fair?'

'You did....' Darcy said in a small voice.

Luca froze at the reminder.

An electrifying silence stretched.

'Suddenly I have a great need for the calm, ordered atmosphere of my office!' Luca bit out with scantily con¬trolled savagery. He strode into the bathroom and sent the door crashing shut.

So that's the temper...wow!

The door flew open again. 'Even in bed, don't you ever think of anything but that bloody house?' Luca flung, in final sizzling attack.

The door closed again.

Wow... Darcy thought again helplessly. He's so passion¬ate when he drops the cool front. He slams doors like I do. He's a suspicious toad, so used to wheeling and dealing he can't take anything at face value. But he also thought she had put one over on him, she registered. The beginnings of a rueful smile tugged at the tense, unhappy line of her mouth.

What was the matter with her? she questioned as she slid out of bed. Why was she thinking such crazy thoughts? Why did she feel sort of disappointed that Luca was plan¬ning to leave her? Why wasn't she feeling more cheerful at that prospect? She stared down at the empty chair where she had draped her clothes the night before.

With a frown, she finally noticed that her open suitcase had disappeared as well. She wandered into the dressing room and tugged open the unit doors to be greeted by male apparel on one side and on the other unfamiliar female garments.

Pyjama-clad, she knocked on the bathroom door. No an¬swer. She opened it. He was in the shower.

'Where are my clothes, Luca?' she called. The water went off. He rammed back the doors of the shower cubicle.