Chapter 6 #2
She’d told him she was exhausted, but it wasn’t true.
Oh, on some level, she supposed she was.
On some level, her body was fatigued from the flight over, and then the day they’d had.
But her mind was whizzing and spinning, and an anticipation was moving through her, reminding her of the way it had felt to kiss him, to touch him, of the fact that no matter what, she was his wife for the next twelve months.
That anything might happen between them.
And her heart began to thump with a new kind of rhythm, a hope forming inside of her that was based on the world Luca and Luca alone had opened her eyes to.
Was it any wonder that instead of trying to sleep, she sat up in bed and waited for him to come to the bedroom?
Any wonder that she waited for Luca with an ache growing in the pit of her stomach only he would be able to satisfy?
He cracked the door open carefully, not wanting to make any noise, or let in any light, that might disturb her.
He had only taken one small step into the room though when her voice came to him through the dark. “I’m still awake.”
His gut dropped and his body surged with awareness.
He expelled a quick breath, eyes finding her easily.
Though the lights were out, the moon was full and high, a silver orb sending a beam directly into the room through the window she’d left open.
Having seen the way she’d marvelled at the sea view, he understood why.
She wanted to see it when she woke up, perhaps to smell the salty clay smell all night.
How did he know that about her, when they’d only just met?
“It is late. You were tired.”
The sheets rustled as she sat up. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He stayed where he was. To move closer would be to invite disaster. Perhaps he could take another room after all?
But it was a foolish thought. His grandfather would know.
Under the same roof, it would be all too easy for him to learn the truth.
Luca had to avoid that. Wanted to avoid that, particularly after Valentino had reminded Luca of the need he’d always felt to erase his father’s mistake.
True, he’d been a young boy when he’d set his sights on that goal, but it still held true.
He’d always known that the only way was to prove to the world—and his family—that he was too good to be ignored as the bastard child.
The son of an affair. The boy no one had wanted.
He’d always known he had to be better and smarter than anyone else.
“Why not?” He tried to relax, to move his body across the room casually, and strip out of his clothes as he ordinarily would. But just the knowledge that she was there, in his bed, had his whole body feeling as though an abundance of energy was zipping through his cells.
“I suppose…I’ve been thinking about things.”
His room had a huge bed, an armchair, and not much else.
He’d intended to have a sofa brought in, at some point, before his grandfather or anyone came to stay, but there had not been time.
He moved towards the other side of the bed cautiously, as though it were a viper’s nest. Rather than sitting down, he pressed a hand to the mattress, trying not to notice the way the sheet draped over the gentle undulations of her body.
“Is there a problem?”
He felt her watching him. Felt the warmth of her gaze, and somehow just knew that if he were to look at her face, he’d see her biting into her lower lip.
“Are you going to come to bed?”
Come to bed.
Such a loaded question. “I thought you would be asleep.”
“Were you hoping for that?”
“Yes,” he admitted quickly.
“Why?”
“Because then it would have been easier to resist you.”
Her sharp intake of breath might as well have been a plea. He held his ground, but it took every ounce of his willpower. “What if,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear.
“Yes?” Impatience cut through the room like a whip. A cloud must have drifted across the moon, because he lost the small view he’d had of her face, the silver light illuminating her features, perfectly hinting at her rare beauty.
He didn’t need to see her, though, to know how hard it was for her to do this. “What if you didn’t resist me? What if we didn’t fight this?”
He bit out a curse, the harsh invective serving to warn himself, rather than respond to her. But she flinched anyway, her outline moving quickly.
“I’m sorry.” He lifted a hand in the air, placating her. “But it is not possible.”
Silence fell. The cloud cleared and moonlight strafed across the room once more, a perfect beam landing on her perfect face, causing him a perfect stab of yearning, deep in his gut.
“Is it me?”
He closed his eyes. “Not in the way you think.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know I want you.”
She lifted her shoulders.
“I’ve told you I want you.”
“But you’re saying no.”
Frustration was like a slap across his whole body. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, facing her. “I’m saying no for your own good. Believe me, it’s not what I want.”
“Then why?”
“Because it’s too loaded. Too meaningful.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“It would be your first time.”
“So?”
“How can that fail to mean something, to both of us?”
“It would mean you took my virginity. Is that such a big deal?”
He couldn’t even hear her talk about this without his whole body responding. It wasn’t her virginity, but the thought of being with her, of making her his, for a time. Of fulfilling the promise of the desire that swirled so readily between them.
But restraint was his stock in trade and it came to his defence in that moment. “To me, yes.”
“Why?”
“Allegra.” His voice emerged stern and cold.
He made an effort to soften it. “This is never going to happen. Not because I don’t want you, not because I don’t fantasise about showing you what your body is capable of feeling, but because it would be wrong.
You deserve more than I can ever give you.
So please, for both our sakes, just let it drop. ”
Luca slept—badly—in the armchair. It seemed like the safest option.
Because despite his words, there was not a single cell in his body that wasn’t vibrating with desperate need for Allegra.
Wanting to reach for her, pull her to him, kiss her until she was weak beneath him, begging for him, and make love to her until dawn.
So he chose the chair, and whenever he woke from discomfort, his eyes would fall on her sleeping form and needs would spark to life anew, making him desperate all over again.
When the first hint of light broke over the sea, he stood silently and strode towards the door, refusing to turn and look back at her, because if he did, he doubted his willpower would hold.
His grandfather was, unsurprisingly, already awake, taking coffee on the terrace. Luca remembered this from childhood. They were the same, in this respect. Neither man required much sleep, and liked to face the dawn head on.
Valentino glanced up as Luca stepped onto the terrace. A moment later, a housekeeper placed a coffee cup down at the table.
“You look like shit,” Valentino drawled.
Luca sank into the seat opposite his grandfather and angled it to face the view. “Thanks.” He took a long drink of the thick, black coffee, eyes roaming the land in the distance, appreciating it anew now, seeing it through Allegra’s eyes.
“Your wife is charming.”
“I think so.”
The old man’s eyes stayed on him; he could feel the intensity of his gaze, but didn’t turn to face him.
“She’s not from Vegas.”
Luca took another drink of coffee. “No.”
“Strange, then, that you two met and fell in love so quickly.”
Luca ignored the question. Or rather, ignored the implication of doubt.
“Your cousin and brother will find it hard to believe.”
“Is their believing in my marriage something I should care about?”
“They might not like the thought of you taking control of the company.”
Luca stayed very still. “And yet, we have a deal.”
Valentino grunted, so Luca did turn then, staring the older man down.
“You know they don’t want to do it, they just don’t want me to have it.
We both understand that. So let’s not sit here and act as though you are faced with a difficult decision.
I am the only grandchild you would ever trust to inherit. ”
Valentino held his gaze, locked in a battle of wills. “They will argue for the sake of it.”
Luca knew he was right. His brother, in particular, had an axe to grind where Luca was concerned.
“You know why this marriage is important to me,” Valentino said quietly, taking a drink of his coffee.
Luca grunted his agreement, but his grandfather continued regardless.
“Your grandmother was the making of me. I loved her. I lived for her. But your father…he was wild and reckless. His brother was no better. We had two children, and they were both spoiled by what they had, by the lifestyle, the freedom. Neither could tolerate work. It is why we raised you boys as we did. I know it might seem that we were hard on you—,”
Another grunt from Luca.
“I will not allow any of you to turn out as they did.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed. He knew this fear of Valentino’s.
His father and his uncle had been foolhardy, careless playboys.
They’d died in a light plane crash when Luca was just a boy—a plane crash that had been all their own error.
They’d lived hard, fast, and uncaring for anything like responsibility.
“We learned from our mistakes,” Valentino said grimly, and Luca felt his pain.
“After the Middle East, I thought you might be going down the same path as him. That is why I have pushed for this, why I made it a condition of you inheriting the company.” He stood, moving toward Luca then squeezing his shoulder.
“She is a nice woman who will make you an excellent wife, if you can make a go of this. Let her be the making of you, the way your grandmother was with me. I promise you will not regret it.”