The Proud Wife Read Online Free PDF Page A

because, no matter what she had just said, she had known full well that she would have to come face to face with her estranged husband at some point during her return to Sicily. Pietro wouldn’t have ordered her back to the island if he hadn’t intended that to happen. He wouldhave to oversee her final dismissal from his life in person, if only to make sure that he was rid of her once and for all. There would have been no point in the summons otherwise. So she had slapped her emotional armour into place, knowing that it made her look hard and distant as a result.
    Deep inside, hard and distant was the very last thing she was feeling.
    â€˜You don’t have a lawyer? You didn’t think that you would need someone to protect your interests?’
    â€˜And will I?’
    Marina made her words a deliberate challenge. She knew her own private reasons why she hadn’t felt the need to bring along any legal support, but suddenly she wasn’t prepared to reveal those right away.
    â€˜You are my wife.’ Pietro’s shadowed eyes met hers head-on, no trace of doubt or hesitation in his confident stare, though the heavy lids did droop down, hiding their expression behind the long, thick lashes.
    â€˜Soon to be ex,’ Marina reminded him, not allowing herself to be intimidated by his merciless scrutiny.
    Oh, he hadn’t liked that; it was obvious from the sudden flare of something dangerous in the depths of his eyes. But he was no longer dealing with the amazed and overwhelmed girl he had married, the one who had been too naive to see him for what he really was. She’d done a lot of growing up in the past couple of years.
    â€˜You are my wife,’ he repeated. ‘And as such you will be given what is due to you.’
    Well, that was a double-edged comment, if ever there was one. But which way was she supposed to take it? Marina wondered. As a promise of fair play or a threat of retribution?
    â€˜But first there are a couple of conditions.’
    â€˜Of course.’
    She should have expected that. She had expected it. From the moment the letter had arrived summoning her here to this office—Pietro’s lawyer’s office, on this island, Pietro’s home territory—she had known that he intended to show that he had the upper hand. And that he very definitely intended to use it. The sting she felt at the thought of that cold-blooded, ruthless determination turned on her made her flinch inwardly, cursing herself for still being weak enough to let him get under her guard at all. She knew what Pietro was like, didn’t she? She should do. She’d spent almost six months as his wife, had seen every side to his character. She knew how cold, hard, how totally pitiless he could be when he was crossed. The lines etched into his face, the burn of ice in those strangely pale eyes, told her that nothing had softened him in the time they had been apart. And the clipped, controlled tone of his voice warned her that he intended to make no compromises, would give no quarter.
    â€˜Of course?’ Pietro questioned sharply.
    â€˜I expected conditions, yes,’ Marina returned. ‘I’d be a fool not to. You aren’t going to just roll over and give in, are you? That’s hardly your way. Hardly the behaviour of Il Principe Pietro D’Inzeo.’
    â€˜And yet you still came here without a lawyer?’
    Just the tone of voice in which the question was asked made her stomach lurch uncomfortably, nerves tying themselves into knots deep inside. It didn’t matter that she told herself there was nothing he could do to harm her; somehow there was a tiny little seed of doubt that left her unable to convince her uncomfortable, jittery mind that it was actually true. She might have a secret card up her sleeve, but suddenly she was plagued by a nervous sense of apprehension at the thought of actually playing it.
    Pietro D’Inzeo was a powerful man: a Sicilian