Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Anton
S erena lay curled against me, her warm skin impossibly soft. Her breathing eventually steadied as her hand absently traced patterns over my chest. The aftershocks of several mind-blowing orgasms hung in the air like a satisfied sigh. The smell of sex and something uniquely hers lingered, arousing and intoxicating.
Her dark hair spilled across the pillow like ink, a stark contrast to the cream-colored sheets. In the faint glow from the city lights through the windows, she looked almost angelic. The soft curve of her lips, the delicate slope of her nose, the way her lashes fanned against her cheeks when she blinked—it was all impossibly perfect, almost too much for a man like me to take in without losing his grip on reality.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked after we lay there in quiet for a long while. Her voice was low and husky, making me want to sink into her once more .
“I’m thinking about how beautiful you are, and about how long it will be before I’m buried inside you again.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile, and she tilted her head to look up at me.
“That’s a dangerous answer,” she teased.
“Dangerous is relative,” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
The simple fact was that my answer was as raw as it was true. I liked sex. Plain and simple. Emotional strings were never part of the equation, yet Serena took up more headspace than I cared to admit. She was all I thought about—even if I hadn’t yet solved the mysteries surrounding her.
I trusted my instincts, and my gut told me she was exactly who she claimed to be. Yet the woman I was coming to know was at complete odds with the violence I’d seen in her ravaged hotel room. That alone made me pause. As annoyed as I was to have these thoughts invade my mind at a moment like this, I couldn’t ignore them. They gnawed at me like a piece of a puzzle that didn’t fit.
Someone had been searching for something, but what? And why her?
I should just ask her, but instinct made me hesitate. If I wanted answers, she might be able to provide them. But if she couldn’t, finding out what happened would only upset her. I didn’t want that.
I slid my fingers along the curve of her shoulder, my thoughts scattered. Between the perfection of the moment and the inability to find the truth, I wasn’t sure where to settle. I wondered if she had any idea what she did to me—how her presence was a constant test of my carefully constructed control.
She propped herself up on one elbow, the sheet sliding slightly to reveal more of her olive skin. My gaze flicked down to her bare breasts .
God help me, the woman is breathtaking, and she isn’t even trying.
I forced myself to bring my gaze back to her face.
“Tell me something,” I said, my voice low but steady. “Something about you I don’t already know.”
“Like what?”
I thought about the leatherbound journal full of notes and drawings. It was old and well worn, the writing style far too masculine to belong to Serena. I suspected it had once belonged to her father. Perhaps if I could understand more about her dynamic with him, I’d find the answers I was looking for.
“Your father,” I said, stating the words before I could rethink them. “How did he die?”
Her expression shifted, the lightness in her features fading into something more guarded. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she sighed softly.
“Not my idea of pillow talk,” she began, her voice tinged with a distant sadness. “His death wasn’t sudden. He was sick for months. It started with him feeling weak all the time, then came nausea and weight loss. His skin became red and swollen, and he complained about his fingers and toes feeling like pins and needles. There was chest pain, too. He just kept getting worse from a whole slew of symptoms that didn’t make any sense.”
“What did the doctors say it was?” I asked, sitting up slightly.
“They couldn’t figure it out,” she said with a small shake of her head. Her fingers absently plucked the edge of the sheet. “They tried tests, various treatments, but nothing worked. Nobody knew why he was sick. Hospitals in Lucca are limited. I wanted to bring him back to the States, but he was too weak to travel. By the time he passed, they still didn’t have answers. Heart disease was listed on the death certificate, but I know that wasn’t it. ”
She paused, her brow furrowing as though she was reliving it.
“What do you think it was?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was he in pain?” I asked.
“He said he wasn’t, but I know he only said that so my mother didn’t worry. She never left his side. It was awful to watch. She and I did everything we could to make him comfortable, but...” She looked down, her expression tightening. “It wasn’t enough.”
Her voice was calm, but I could feel the undercurrent of frustration and sadness in her words. I reached out again, brushing another strand of hair from her face.
“You were close to him,” I said.
She nodded, and her eyes took on a faraway look. “He was everything to me. Losing him was like losing a piece of myself.”
For the first time, I began to see why she was so desperate to push aside her own wants and desires to fulfill her father’s dream. It was a selfless act that I couldn’t fully understand. It went against everything I knew about humanity.
“Cade couldn’t handle my reaction to my father’s death,” she continued. Her expression shifted, a spark of anger flaring in her eyes.
I frowned. “Cade?”
“My ex-fiancé.”
Jealousy hit instantly, and much harder than it should have.
Since when do I get jealous?
I felt my body tense, and I slid out of bed before she could notice. I needed a moment to process the foreign emotion, realizing that it wasn’t the first time I’d felt it when it came to Serena. Crossing to the minibar near the window, I poured myself a whiskey.
“Drink?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
She shook her head. “No, thanks. ”
“You were saying?” I said, keeping my tone casual. As much as I didn’t want to hear about her ex-lover, she was talking and I needed answers.
“He hated how much time I spent helping my mother with my father. He said I was neglecting him, that I cared more about my parents than I did about him. He always made me feel like I was in the wrong. And for a time, I believed I was. He was the master at manipulation, somehow painting a different reality that made me question everything.”
Gaslighting.
The word echoed in my mind, though I didn’t say it aloud.
“Did you love him?”
“I thought I did. But then I learned that love wasn’t supposed to be toxic.”
“Sounds like a real gem,” I said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Is that why you split up? Because he was toxic?”
She gave a humorless laugh, the sound almost startling in the quiet room. “He slept with my best friend. That was the end for me.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact, but her eyes betrayed her. There was anger there, a deep-seated betrayal that would leave scars no matter how long it had been.
“He didn’t deserve you,” I said.
She tilted her head, a faint smile playing at her lips. “I know that now.”
I paced the room, pausing only to take another sip of whiskey. I used the burn to ground me as I mulled over her story. What she revealed tonight was nothing out of the ordinary, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something.
I drained the rest of my drink, setting the glass on the nightstand before sliding back into bed.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” I asked, changing the subject .
“One fifteen,” she said. “I’ll need to be at the airport a couple of hours before that though.”
“Zeke will drive you,” I said, earning a skeptical look.
“I can catch a cab.”
“I know you can, but I’d prefer it if Zeke drove you.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
“I’ll be in Italy within the week,” I continued. “It will be easier for us to be more ourselves there, in a country where I’m less recognizable. That’s when our thirty days start.”
She raised a brow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Once again, your arrogance astounds me. We still haven’t agreed to any terms.”
I slid a hand along her waist, running my fingertips over the smooth skin at her stomach before moving up to cup one of her breasts.
“Tell me your terms, Serena.”
Her breath hitched as I skimmed my index finger over a nipple, circling the hard peak.
“Oh, I um…I was thinking—” She hissed through her teeth when I pinched the ridged point. “I was thinking we should take it day by day. Or maybe week to week. A month is long.”
“Is it?” Leaning over, I captured her nipple with my mouth. I rolled my tongue, pausing only to ask, “How much money do you need every month?”
“Holy Mother of God. Anton, I don’t know how you expect me to talk while you’re doing that.”
“You seem to be doing just fine,” I teased.
She shoved a lock of hair from her eyes, flustered.
“It varies depending on what we need in any given month,” she said.
“I need more details,” I prodded as I slid a hand down between her legs. My fingers found her soaked pussy, and she moaned.
“Anton, do you want me to talk, or do you want sex? ”
“I love how you react when I touch you. Can’t we do both?”
“I can’t…” Her breath hitched when I applied pressure to her clit. “I can’t focus on words while you play.”
I chuckled and pulled my hand away. “Alright. Talk now. I’ll own that pussy after.”
She all but purred before letting out a reluctant sigh. Shifting to prop herself up on a pillow, she took a moment to collect herself before continuing. “My project manager will know the exact breakdown. There’s the cost of securing permits, machinery rentals, supplies for excavating, mapping, and recording. If we use aerial reconnaissance to search for patterns, the spend jumps significantly. There’s also the lab where we process findings. Fortunately, the fieldwork team is made up of volunteers and students.”
“How much money, Serena?” I repeated, even if I didn’t particularly care about the cost. She could say she needed ten million dollars, and I’d hand it over without question.
“On average, the dig costs around thirty thousand per month, give or take. Our spend since the start of the project has exceeded five hundred thousand.”
“That’s a lot of money,” I mused, toying with her. “I don’t think I can take things day by day, or week to week. I want a full month commitment.”
“But—”
“A full month and I’ll give you five hundred thousand up front. That should be enough to keep your dig funded for a good long while—and well past the year I originally proposed.” She began to shake her head, but I silenced her with a finger before she could speak. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
She held my gaze steady, her blue eyes a raging storm of emotion.
After a moment, she nodded .
“Trustfall.”
“That’s right, princess. Take the money and don’t ask questions. Now, where was I?”
Lowering my head, I recaptured her nipple between my teeth. When I slid my hand down to her wet slit, her back arched in surrender, and I smiled to myself.
Tonight, she was mine, and that was enough.