Chapter 10
HE CARRIED HER AS THOUGH she weighed nothing.
And given their relative sizes, she supposed that was true.
He held her to his chest, the fabric of his shirt in contrast to her bare skin, as he easily traversed the deck of the boat then shouldered in a door, taking them inside a room that the first glimpse showed to be luxurious beyond compare.
As with all things Luca Di Santis, she thought wryly.
This was a man who truly had the world at his fingertips, yet in that moment, she barely noticed nor cared.
All she could think about was the perfection of this. The freedom.
Freedom to touch and be touched by him. To know he’d finally given into the chemistry they shared, and was going to become her first lover.
Even that though was a loaded thought. A concept she had to grapple with, for how it jarred.
First, implied there’d be another. And another.
And for the moment, Luca took up so much of her brain space, she couldn’t see beyond him.
It was only physical—like a temporary insanity.
It would pass. But she wasn’t ready for that; she was in no rush.
In the sweeping living area of the boat, complete with cream leather sofas, a grand piano and a crystal chandelier, he placed her down reverently, stepping back to look at her, eyes flaring possessively as they surfed her face and then lower, lingering on her breasts before he turned and stalked across the room, opening a silver fridge and withdrawing a bottle of champagne.
She recognised the distinctive label and knew it to be expensive—of course.
He muffled the popping of the cork in the palm of his hand, then reached for a glass, pouring it until it was half full, then doing the same with a second.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers and her heart leaped into her throat. She coughed a little, to clear it.
“Come with me,” he said, easily collecting both glasses in his hands and gesturing ahead of them.
“Where to?”
“You’ll see.”
“Intriguing.”
“You trust me?”
She held her breath then nodded quickly.
His eyes narrowed. “Good.”
Outdoors again, this time at the rear of the boat, there was a stunning hot tub, steaming into the night air. She gasped when she saw it, the view of it, with the steam rising, contrasted with the night sky, made her pulse trip even more than it already was.
“A hot tub on a boat? What will they think of next?”
She couldn’t help reflecting on how strange it was that she wasn’t feeling self-conscious.
Given her lack of any experience with men, she had no issue walking around this man’s yacht in just her underpants.
Even when he glanced over at her and heat flared in his eyes, she had no impulse to cover up.
Because this felt normal. Natural. It felt right. Not him, she hastened to mentally add, but exploring her body, her desire. For the first time in her life, she was leaning into that side of herself, and she couldn’t feel anything but glad.
She was owning this moment. As opposed to the fear she’d experienced in Vegas when she’d been threatened by an indecent offer—to have sex with some guy she barely knew in exchange for wiping her debt.
A shudder ran through her at the very idea.
The lack of agency she’d then felt, the sense of how vulnerable she was, even when she’d known she’d never willingly accept such a deal.
It had galvanised her into understanding her own mind, and reaching for what she wanted with both hands. And right now, that was this thing, with Luca.
Even better, she was going into it with her eyes wide open. She was under no illusions about what their relationship would be, there were no future hopes here. It was perfectly safe.
She smiled as she brushed past him and stepped up to the edge of the hot tub. The boat rocked slightly and he shot one hand out—both glasses of champagne still held in the other—to steady her.
“I presume there are no loitering paparazzi here?” she asked with a raised brow, as she dipped her toe into the water and sighed at the feeling of warmth.
“Unlikely.” She slid all the way into the hot tub, laughing at the sheer euphoria of the sensation.
Her body was sensitive all over, courtesy of the man who was now removing his own clothes, stripping down to his boxer briefs.
The smile slipped from her face as she stared at him and saw him as he’d been that first morning, in Vegas.
She’d been too shell shocked then by the whole situation to properly appreciate him, but now, it hit her like a sledgehammer.
Broad shoulders, tapered waist, six pack—no, eight pack—and an arrow of dark hair darting into the waistband of his shorts.
As he stepped into the spa, she had a full glimpse of his powerful, hair-roughened legs, calf muscles that spoke of regular exercise.
He took the seat opposite her so their legs brushed beneath the water’s surface, then reached behind him to retrieve the champagne glasses.
He held one out to her; when she took it, their fingers brushed, and despite the intimacy they’d just shared, a thousand sparks ignited in her bloodstream.
“Thank you,” she said, dipping her eyes lower.
“Prego.”
She looked up at him, and repeated the word, which she knew to mean something like, ‘you’re welcome’.
“I should probably try to learn some Italian, while I’m here.”
“It is not necessary,” he said with a lift of one shoulder. “One year will pass quickly and most people you meet will speak English.”
She ignored the way his quick reminder of her temporary status in Italy landed against her.
“I like hearing you speak it,” she said, heat flushing her cheeks at the admission. It was new to her. All of this. Good, but new.
“And I like hearing what you like,” he said, holding his champagne flute towards her. “To exploration,” he said with a soft intensity that made her blood simmer.
She nodded as they clinked glasses, eyes holding his, before she settled back against the spa wall and glanced toward the velvety black night sky. “It’s very beautiful out here.”
“You can see only sky,” he teased.
“And stars,” she said, glancing upward. “It reminds me a little of home.”
“Do you miss it?”
She shook her head swiftly. When he didn’t say anything, she looked in his direction. “Do you find that strange?”
“A little. You’ve lived there all your life.”
“The last several years were stressful. My dad was sick, I was working so much.” She lifted her shoulders.
“I could never have left him, but sometimes, I used to dream of what it would be like to be able to get away. To see the world, to experience something other than that one-street town. Don’t get me wrong, the people there are great, and it’s very beautiful. But…”
“You’re young,” he said, voice gruff. “Traveling is what you’re meant to be doing. Seeing the world, meeting new people.”
Her lips pulled to the side.
“Instead, you were caring for your father.”
They’d barely touched on the subject of his illness. She’d explained that he’d had cancer, had gone into remission once, then relapsed, but that had been it. Sticking to the facts had helped keep their relationship businesslike.
“There was no one else,” she said, with a lift of her shoulders.
He also knew that her mother had died in childbirth.
“No aunts or uncles? Cousins?”
“Both of my parents were only children.”
His brows lifted. “Which makes you completely alone.”
Her throat shifted as she swallowed.
“What will you do when you go home?”
“After this year?” She took a sip of the champagne, the bubbles bursting through her. She had no concept of what time it was—perhaps too late to be drinking champagne—but this was a night out of time, a night without the usual rules.
“You will have money,” he said, with no concept that most of the money he’d agreed to pay her for this ruse was long gone, paid to the loan sharks. “You can move out of the town, travel anywhere you would like.”
If only that were true.
She nodded though, not wanting to tell him the truth of her situation.
She didn’t want him to know how stupid she’d been.
How desperate. She was embarrassed about the mess she’d made of it all, even when her intentions had been good.
And of all the people she wanted not to think badly of her, Luca apparently was high on the list.
“So?” he asked, taking a drink of his champagne, eyes scanning her face. “Where would you go?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“Even when you were dreaming of escape?”
“Escape without a destination,” she agreed. “I knew I wanted to be somewhere else.”
“But not anywhere in particular?”
“That wasn’t the point.” Her lips tugged to the side. “It was hard. Watching him, you know, go through that. Knowing what was coming. I mean, I was hopeful, to the end, but in my heart of hearts, I knew there was no real chance of beating it. I wanted to run away from grief, but you can’t really.”
Sympathy crossed his handsome face, and then Luca was placing his champagne down, shifting in the water, to come and sit at her side. Beneath the water, their legs brushed and despite the warmth of the water, she shivered. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
She nodded. “Me too.”
He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “What about friends, Allegra?”
She bit into her lower lip. “Most of my friends left town after school. I met people through work, but I was too busy with dad to really socialise. Exhausted, too.”
“You worked two jobs?”
She’d told him that already, but she nodded. “An office job in the day, and at a diner at night.”
“And you were caring for your father?”
“We had a neighbour who’d help, but yeah, mostly it was me.”
He shook his head slowly. “Do you remember what you wanted, before he got sick?”
She blinked at him quickly. “God, I don’t. It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Try.”
He was so close though, thinking was becoming more and more difficult. She shook her head slowly. “It’s stupid.”
“Why?”
“I was just a teenager.”