he might have been talking about her. That he had considered her important enough to him that he’d purposely kept them legally tied together. Then, as she continued to stare into blue eyes that refused to warm, she admitted the truth to herself. His holding on to her had nothing to do with her—it was all about the dagger that Gianni had stolen.
She closed her eyes briefly and wished herself anywhere but here. When she opened her eyes again, though, she was still looking at Rico, still feeling his icy stare dig right through her.
“I didn’t know my brother was going to steal the dagger.”
He laughed. “You think I believe you?”
“Probably not,” she admitted. “But I wanted you to know that.”
“Five years later, you decide to try honesty.” He shrugged her statement off. “You and your family. Very versatile. You’ll even make a wild attempt at the truth if you think it will serve better than a lie.”
“This isn’t about my family,” she argued. “This is about me. And I’m trying to tell you the truth of what happened.”
“Thank you,” he said, sarcasm dripping from the words. “Now I know. It changes nothing.” Rico moved past her, walking to the terrace that overlooked the hotel he’d built and the surrounding grounds.
When she followed him, he didn’t even look at her when she spoke. “How long do you plan on keeping me here?”
“Until your thieving family returns my property.”
She flushed and was grateful he hadn’t seen it. Hard to argue with the truth, no matter how much she’d like to. “This is only about the dagger then?”
“Oh,” he said, turning to face her. “It is about much more than that.”
The warm, soft trade winds blew across the terrace, ruffling Rico’s collar-length black hair. His eyes were shuttered, emotion carefully hidden beneath a veneer of contempt.
She shivered a little at the ice in his gaze and remembered a time when his eyes had held nothing but heat when he looked at her. A time when the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. A time when passion had sizzled in the air and hunger was never sated. But the past was as ephemeral as the trade winds, blowing through her heart and mind and passing all too quickly.
“What exactly is it that you want from me, Rico?”
“I want you,” he said flatly.
The ice inside her melted in a flash, dwarfed by a rush of heat that boiled her blood and fried her bones. “You what?”
“I want you here,” he said, leaning casually against the railing. Feet crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest, he added plainly, “In my bed.”
“You do?” Had she read him completely wrong? Had he really kept their marriage alive because he still felt something for her? Was this his way of telling her that he wanted them to be together again?
“For one month,” he qualified, splintering whatever rainbow-and-unicorn thoughts that were still revolving through her mind.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said. “And you’re lucky I’m not demanding the five years that you were gone.”
She blinked.
“You will stay here for one month. You will share my bed like a good wife.”
“You are not going to blackmail me into sex.”
“Of course not. But we will sleep in the same bed. And when we do have sex again, Teresa, it will be your idea,” he said, giving her a knowing smile. “You remember how good it was between us...”
Oh, she really did.
“So blackmail won’t be necessary.”
He was probably right, God help her.
“As I was saying,” Rico continued, “at the end of that month, your brother returns my property and I let you go—with a real divorce this time. More,” he added when she opened her mouth to speak, “I’ll give you the evidence I hold against the Coretti family. You can destroy it yourself.”
Wow. Her brain had a lot to sift through: everything he’d said, the cold way he’d said it and the right way to react. Her thoughts tumbled over each other in a crash of confusion until she was finally able to concentrate on the single word that stood out from the rest.
“Destroy?” she asked. “You’d turn it all over to me?”
“I will,” he assured her, then lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “And I don’t lie.”
She frowned at the little slap, but instead of arguing the point, she turned her mind to what he’d promised. If she could destroy any evidence on her family, the Corettis would be safe again. But as her father had said, no one before Rico had ever managed to catch them in the act. How could she be sure that Rico had what he said he did?
“How do I know you have anything for us to worry about?”
“As you told your father not long ago, I don’t bluff.” He pushed away from the railing. “I have enough on them to make any law enforcement agency do a dance of joy as they close a cell door on your father and brothers.”
A knot tightened in the pit of her stomach. Rico was a man who said what he meant and always meant what he said. If he promised retribution, then it would be delivered with a vengeance. If he said he could lock her family away, the cell door was as good as shut.
Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a cold fist. Looking into his eyes only made the chill she felt go deeper. Though he stood no more than three feet from her, the distance separating them could just as easily have been measured in light-years. “This is about revenge, then?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled, but it was an empty echo of the smile she remembered. The smile that still haunted her dreams. “Did you expect me to declare my love? To have spent the last five years pining away for the woman who stole from me and vanished?”
“Pining away?” she repeated with a short laugh. “Please. I’ve seen the pictures of you in the magazines. Actresses. Models. Socialites. You didn’t look like you were crying on their shoulders, either.”
One corner of his mouth quirked. “Jealous?”
Desperately. “Hardly.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “A thief from a family of thieves. Why should I believe you?”
“I didn’t steal from you,” she argued, beginning to feel a flutter of outrage building inside.
“Your family did, which makes you as guilty as they.”
Okay, she had to give him that. She was a Coretti, after all, despite the fact that she’d never taken part in one of their jobs. “So it’s revenge on my entire family that you’re after?”
“No, Teresa,” he said, moving closer, lifting one hand to cup her cheek. The tender touch was muted by the hard glint in his eyes. “From your family, I want only my property. From you...I want only the pleasure we’ll find together during the next month.”
Everything inside her rippled and pulsed. Just those few words were enough to build a fire in her blood. How was it fair that he had been with countless women over the last five years while she had lived like a nun? How was it fair that he could whisper the word pleasure and have her ready to fall into bed with him?
“And if I’m not interested in sex with you?” she asked, with a mental hah! “Would you force me?”
His blue eyes flashed a warning. “You think I would—could do that?”
“No,” she murmured, shaking her head for emphasis. “I don’t.”
He nodded.