Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
S ERENA brACED HERSELF to deal with whatever Luciano had stopped for. Probably a kiss for the cameras. A romantic embrace. It was the smart thing to do, but something about the environment added dread to something she’d already decided.
Because it was romantic—the starlight, the soft lap of waves, the darkness. And when she turned, she would be faced with a far too attractive man, whose simple touch made her shudder and sigh even when she didn’t want to. When she had worked so hard all her life to make all her reactions just what she wanted them to be.
No matter how hard she tried, she could not make her reactions what she wanted them to be when it came to him. She could not find a safe place in her icy perfection.
She would let him touch her. She would have to let him kiss her. Perhaps she could continue to protest a little , but she needed to start showing a weakening, so she lulled him into complacency.
And she desperately needed to think of it that way, so she did not think about what a kiss might actually feel like. Business over shivers and pulses.
She had already had her lawyers involved in drawing up papers that would solidify their business partnership once they were married. He would no doubt need his lawyers to go over them and counteroffer different things. It was likely to be drawn out, so yes, they should move forward.
But that meant moving forward with the marriage.
She had been so ready to do that, and then they had walked hand in hand, and her body had felt…foreign.
Then he had skimmed his hand along her spine. She understood why cats purred now. How the gentle caress of a hand could make a body feel content and pleasurable. Then he’d put his hand at her neck, and it had been like…little explosions in her bloodstream. No longer just content , something more…wanting.
She wanted to focus on business, on what needed to be done, and still her body pulsed even though he’d released her. She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to find some of her always available control.
Upper hand, remember? she told herself. Not for pleasure…for the upper hand.
Trying to find a smile, something flirtatious inside of her instead of concern over her body’s reactions, she turned to look at him. Except he wasn’t standing. He was kneeling in the sand and—
Serena’s breath caught. Not at the scene itself—romantic and movie-like as it might be. It was the ring. It glittered there under the celestial lights above, a beacon of pretty…perfection in its cozy little box that Luciano held out to her.
“I considered your style and mine,” Luciano said, his voice low and as lulling as the sea waves. “I could have had something designed, but I think we should strike while the iron is hot. It is expensive, indeed, but not quite gaudy as you had indicated you wished for last night. Still, this should do, shouldn’t it?”
It was gorgeous. Absolutely, thrillingly beautiful. She was not a flashy person, and the ring bordered on flashy, but not so far that she didn’t like it. It was a pink diamond, settled among other winking diamonds on a slim band that made the center stone look that much bigger.
It reminded her of being a child, going through her mother’s jewelry boxes. Enjoying the feel of cool precious metals on her fingers and wrists and neck.
But that was a reminder of her mother always telling her that she was too plain for such things. And she was, fair enough. She was plain and unassuming. Dull. This ring didn’t match her .
But it matched the image of someone who’d caught Luciano Ascione’s attention, the fake fiancée for the fake marriage. So she had to go with it. Didn’t she?
He gripped her hand and held it still as he slid the ring onto her finger. She wanted to keep her gaze on the ring, but it seemed to move, of its own accord, up to meet his gaze. Dark and intense. Potent, looking up at her. Like a shot of liquor.
Why? She didn’t know. Maybe some men were just given that kind of power. So incredibly unfair, but impossible to deny in this moment. She had to lick her lips and swallow in order to speak. “This was a smart move,” she managed to say.
He got to his feet and looked down at her, his dark eyes alight with amusement, his mouth curved into something cutting and intriguing at once.
“Why, thank you, cara . I so appreciate your approval.” His tone was wry. “I suppose that is your way of saying yes .”
She was afraid to speak. There were too many emotions battering around inside of her, making her throat feel tight. The way her body felt. The way this felt real, when she knew it wasn’t, and didn’t want it to be. And still, that pulsing need throbbing deep inside of her that she had to get a hold of to come out on top. “I suppose it is,” she managed.
“Do you think your photographers caught any of that?”
Photographers. The play they were essentially acting out. She had to remember that even if the ring was real, even if whatever papers they signed to be married and combine Valli and Ascione were real , the whole…personal side of things wasn’t.
She wanted to rub at the odd pain in her chest, but couldn’t seem to find control of her own body.
“If they don’t, I shall be sure to make an appearance somewhere notable with this on my hand. That should start the talk.” She frowned down at the ring. “However, I shall have to break the news to my mother first.” Something she did not relish. It left a worse taste in her mouth than actually marrying Luciano.
“Ah.” His arm came around her, and she could give him credit here—he knew the act. Relished it. She still felt shell-shocked. “Shall I expect pistols at dawn then?” he asked, guiding her back toward her gardens.
Serena shook her head. She felt strangely…afloat. Like she was in a dream where she was a fairy-tale princess, and the handsome man in front of her represented some kind of love and future. She could remember a time when she’d had silly little dreams like that. But she’d been small, naive. It was before she’d realized that she would never achieve that sparkle her mother had. Back when her parents had divorced and split their lives forever, shuttling Serena back and forth like an unwanted gift they could not get rid of without offending someone. That was when she realized all she had to offer was perfection, and maybe that would never earn love, but it would get her somewhere . It would earn her a place.
She needed to get a hold of herself. It was just a ring. “No, my mother never cared about Valli business. She won’t have any compunction on you being an Ascione. She will insist on a dinner and she will…” Serena trailed off. She didn’t know exactly how to warn Luciano how her mother would be.
Serena had learned how to be perfect in her father’s eyes. How to be what he wanted, more or less. She had been able to work and prove to him that she had some worth.
She had never been able to make that kind of dent with her mother. Serena didn’t allow that to put them at odds, but she did keep a certain kind of distance from her mother. But a life event like this would require dealing with her, lest she make a scene.
No doubt, Luciano wouldn’t even notice. Mother’s barbs tended to be for Serena and Serena alone.
But it had to be done. Mother was the only family she had left. And the whole point was everything needed to seem real to outsiders. Her mother would have to be…somewhat involved going forward.
Serena contemplated the sea for a moment. Maybe she could just run into it and swim until she found a deserted island or simply perished instead. But before she could give any serious consideration to running away, Luciano stopped their forward progress toward her home.
“I’m afraid, there is one thing we will have to do before we head back inside and break the happy news to your mother.”
“What is that?”
He turned her to face him. When she glanced up at him, she saw that his expression was oddly grave. But then his mouth curved. An attempt at a smile. She thought it might have even been an attempt to be roguishly irritating, but it didn’t meet his eyes.
Not as he pulled her body close, so they were pressed together. His heat surrounding them. The smell of the sea, the sounds of the waves, the strange lull of a darkened evening and his hands on her hips. It was like something out of a book or movie. Romantic and…something darker. A strange, twisting need that she might have words for if she wanted to find them.
She didn’t.
“We should seal this deal with a kiss, Serena,” he said, angling his head down so that his mouth was close to hers. So she could feel his breath along with his body. “Just in case those photographers are watching.”
She swallowed, trying to think of something smart to say. He was right, of course. This was all an act so they had to act, but…
He did not ask permission. He did not brush his lips across her cheek. He pressed his mouth to hers, pulled her body to his.
And devoured.
* * *
It couldn’t be chaste. He’d known that going in. A long lens in the darkness would need a prolonged embrace. They would still likely just be grainy shadows, but a grainy shadow could be used with the right story.
It would need to take its time. It would need…
He lost the thread of his thoughts at the first shudder of her body against his. Something like heat scorched through him. A longing for things he didn’t fully recognize and knew better than to try.
So he focused on what he did recognize. The contours of a kiss. The delicate press of her body, surprisingly soft and small. She held herself in such a way, he’d expected something…stronger, he supposed. A leanness with sharp angles ready to cut him to pieces.
He’d also expected her to be more stiff, to push him away, to resist…even if she eventually gave in.
But there was no resistance in her. Innocence maybe, but she allowed his mouth the enticing tour of hers. When he splayed his fingers wide, swept them up her side and settled just short of her breasts, she shuddered out a sigh that had a newly appointed hunger digging its way deep inside of him.
And because it was there—her parted mouth, a mystery too close to walk away from—he tasted. A stunning combination of the wine from dinner and something unique to this kiss and this moment alone.
He supposed her innocence allowed him to set the tone, and there was a delirium in that. He was in charge. Of this moment. Of tough, icy Serena who was none of those things in this moment. She was soft, sweet and a million other words he’d never once used to describe Serena Valli.
Serena Valli.
It was her name that reminded him of who he was and what this was meant to be. He didn’t jerk back, though he wanted to. But no, this was an act.
No matter what strange detours his brain, or body, had gone down, this was still just an act. So he carefully eased away. First his mouth, then his body. Until cool air swept between them.
His own body was too hot, too hard. Too prepared for something that had grown more and more tempting as the kiss went on. Oh, he’d planned on seducing her. He’d told himself their chemistry, as it was, might allow him to enjoy it.
Now, he could admit that he was a little concerned it might end in a mistake. Committed by him .
Impossible. Unthinkable.
They regarded each other in the short distance they’d created, wary and aroused. A dangerous tightrope. One Luciano realized in a strange way he was as new to as she was. He doubted very much that Serena had ever been buffeted by something as base as physical spontaneous combustion as he had, but he’d never dabbled in unwanted desire before. He rarely drew lines like that. If a woman was willing, and they usually were, he slaked whatever desires they both had.
To hold back was new, and he didn’t like it. That lust and concern fused with irritation at himself, at their fathers, at the entire damn world for throwing him into a gray area he had never wanted.
“I think that should suffice for tonight,” she said coolly. And he might have believed she was cool inside and out, but her hand shook as she reached up to smooth it over her hair.
He wished she were the ice princess he’d once believed her to be. It would be so much easier to set aside that kiss as a one off. But there was something underneath all her veneer, and he’d gotten another intriguing peek at it.
Damn her.
“Indeed,” he managed to grit out.
“And you will take the window seat tonight,” she said firmly, an order, then marched into the gardens, leaving him behind in the dark.
Hard and aching for a woman he wanted nothing to do with.