Chapter 4 #2
“And this must be your bride.” The older man’s eyes shifted to Ally with speculation, and the word ‘shrewd’ came to Ally out of nowhere. Yes, that was exactly how to describe him. Shrewd. He looked as though he was assessing everything. Every detail, every minute aspect.
Luca finally looked down at Ally with a smile that almost perfectly matched the other man’s. It revealed his teeth but left his eyes cold. “Allegra, this is my grandfather. Clearly, he could not wait until our honeymoon was over before meeting you.”
Grandfather! Ally straightened her spine, lips parting, as the realisation dawned that it was show time.
And she wasn’t remotely ready. Not to pretend to be this man’s fiancé, to act as though they were a desperately in-love couple.
Not when her veins were pounding with awareness and appreciation, when her body was overheated by his proximity.
But this was what he was paying her for, and failure was not an option.
Just the thought of what would be waiting for her back in America, if she failed, was enough to galvanise her into action.
She forced an overbright smile and held out her hand to the older man. “Well, it’s easy to see where Luc gets his good looks from,” she said with a wink, decided on the spur of the moment to use a diminutive version of Luca’s name.
The old man curled her hand in his and held it a moment, eyes boring into hers, just like Luca had, before he pulled her forward and into a hug, kissing both her cheeks in the European way.
She returned the gesture, but was grateful when Luca put his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his side.
She knew it was part of the act, but she needed the support and strength, the silent encouragement, to continue with the charade.
She wished she’d had a chance to freshen up before seeing anyone from Luca’s family, but clearly this was a curve ball to Luca as well.
He'd said Valentino would be sceptical, which helped explain the unexpected arrival of the older man. He’d come to catch them unawares because he was testing them, which made it all the more important that she give a flawless performance.
“You don’t mind an old man crashing the fun for a few hours, do you?”
“Of course not,” she cooed, smiling brightly up at Luca, who looked like he wanted to throttle someone. “I’ve been telling Luc how much I wanted to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I can well imagine,” Valentino drawled, then let out a husky laugh. “Then come, my dear. Let us take coffee together on the terrace. My grandson looks considerably less pleased with this development,” Valentino added with a wink. “But he knows what a stubborn old man I am.”
“It is our honeymoon,” Luca drawled, his voice gruff, his accent heavy. “You might be old now but I presume you still remember what it’s like to be newly married, young and in love?”
In love. Shivers ran the length of Ally’s spine and for a second, she felt her mask come close to slipping. She felt longing stir in her chest—longing to be genuinely loved, to be wanted. Longing to have what so many other people took for granted and she’d never known, nor hoped to know.
“I do, I do.” Valentino stepped back into the house, allowing them room to follow after. “I hope you’ll forgive me my curiosity, my dear,” he aimed at Ally. “I had no idea you were in his life, let alone that a marriage was on the cards.”
“Last I checked, I am entitled to make my own plans without consulting you.”
She felt the animosity from Luca and reached down to lace their fingers together, squeezing quickly. For someone who wanted to convince their grandfather he was happily married, he was certainly evincing a lot of bad temper.
She did wonder about their relationship though. The older Di Santis seemed completely at ease, whereas Luca was clearly not.
But observing their dynamics took a backseat as the trio walked deeper into Luca’s home and Ally’s breath got caught in her throat anew at the beauty of it.
Like the courtyard outside, every part of the house had been designed to take advantage of the sweeping views, with open plan living rooms, large ceilings and enormous windows.
The palatial living area was both traditional—with large terracotta tiles, creamy rendered walls—and modern, with designer looking furniture and incredible works of art, chosen to enhance the natural beauty of the sea.
“Welcome home,” Luca drawled, his expression sardonic when he glanced down at Ally. “Though it is not how I intended to welcome you.”
Valentino chuckled. “Relax, Luca. I will be gone again soon. But for now, let us sit. I want to get to know your bride.”
And see us together, Ally thought, well aware that she was looking down the gauntlet of a test. Aware of the way the older man was watching them hawkishly, studying them for proof of happiness—or the opposite.
And Luca must have sensed it too. What else explained the way he shifted his whole body, looping both his hands behind her back and pulling her towards him, bending his head so they were close enough to kiss and saying, “I’m sorry, cara. I had no idea.”
Heat flushed her cheeks at the way he was excluding Valentino, speaking purely to her. More so at the way it worked. She felt as though there were only the two of them in the room.
“You know I’ve been looking forward to meeting him,” she said, dredging the words up from deep in the recesses of her brain, in the parts of it still working as it should, more or less.
“I had been looking forward to other things.” Luca brushed his thumb over her lower lip and she closed her eyes on a flutter of unmistakable need.
It felt so real. So tantalising. Sensual awareness was pooling in her stomach and heating between her thighs for the first time in Ally’s life.
It was drugging and powerful; she couldn’t pull away.
In fact, to hell with their witness. To hell with anything but this.
She didn’t care who was watching, who was waiting, standing in Luca’s arms, their bodies melded together, there was nothing for it but to lift onto the tips of her toes and close the rest of the distance between them, brushing her lips to his.
It was intended to be a light kiss, to satisfy the need that was whipping through her, but how foolish she was to have even thought that was possible.
The brushing of their lips might as well have been the splitting open of the earth.
She didn’t know if he groaned or she did, but a second later, his lips were pressing to hers, hard and demanding, and the arm around her waist was no longer casually looped there but rather clamped hard, so her body was pressed to all the hard planes of his—and the hardness of his cock, against her belly, was a sparking of a whole new level of need, so intense she hadn’t known it was possible.
His mouth pressed harder, separating hers, and then his tongue was taking up all the space, duelling with hers and whispering promises she wanted to hold him to, mastering her completely, easily, taunting her with his command and control.
His hand at her back separated her shirt from her waistband, to connect with bare skin and her eyes flew open, the strength of her arousal almost tearing her apart.
Is this what it was meant to feel like? He pressed her forward, harder, more demanding, and this time, she knew it was her that groaned softly into his mouth, surrendering completely to this.
Wanting to hold this moment forever. His mouth explored hers with an intensity and urgency that completely neutralised her brain; all she could do was feel.
Feel his body, his warmth, his touch, his power.
Her hands were trapped in the fabric of his shirt, holding on for dear life, and then, he was pulling away, staring down at her with eyes that glittered like black diamonds, a face that was impossible to read, and cheekbones that were slashed with a hint of dark colour.
She wanted to cry out, to beg him not to stop. Her hands almost did, squeezing into his fabric with desperation. Her knees felt as though they might give way.
“We have lost our audience,” he drawled, still holding onto her though, as if he knew how badly she needed the support.
Ally blinked, not understanding his words at first, because she felt so powerfully aware of him, and him alone. But gradually, the world came back into focus. The room, the view, the fact they were alone.
She jumped back from him as though he’d stabbed her.
“Oh my God,” she lifted her hands to her lips and held them there, like that had the power to wipe away the intensity—the craving—his kiss had invoked. Her kiss! She’d kissed him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, sure she must have been red to the roots of her hair.
“What for?” he asked, voice equally low, but throaty too, so she knew he wasn’t unaffected by what they’d just shared. Hell, she’d felt that for herself, with his powerful body pressed to hers, his hardness impossible to miss.
“For kissing you,” she hissed, looking around to see the enormous space completely devoid of anyone but them.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s what I’m paying you for.”
A shiver ran the length of her spine. Her brain flooded with sparks and pain.
His words cut through her much more sharply than they should have.
He was right. He was paying her. And for this!
But it hurt anyway, because nothing about that kiss had been performative for Ally.
From the second he’d pulled her towards his body, instinct and need had taken over.
She’d kissed him because she’d found it impossible not to.
She’d kissed him because she’d had no other choice.