Chapter 23 – Sienna
SIENNA
My wife.
The words hang in the air, spoken dangerously quietly, and a thrill runs down my spine that I absolutely should be ashamed of myself for.
Roman takes another rapid step back and nearly falls into the pool, his face draining of color as Luca advances on us, taking his time, letting his guard sweat.
I've seen Luca angry before, felt the heat of his temper, but this is something else entirely. This is controlled fury, a predator moments from striking, and it’s both fascinating and terrifying to watch.
"Mr. Calvano, I was just... she offered to..." Roman's stammering only seems to make things worse. “My leg.”
"Luca." I’m aiming for calm and placating, even as my heart pounds against my ribs. "He shouldn’t even be back at work yet. His leg hurts, and I was just showing him some stretches and giving it a rub."
Roman’s eyes go comically wide.
That didn’t help our case.
“Giving it a rub,” Luca repeats, still not looking at me. “Oh, I saw you, on your knees in front of this man, wearing nothing more than a few scraps of material.”
Saying it like that doesn’t sound great. Slowly, I roll off my knees onto my heels and rise to stand, now feeling a little more self-conscious of my attire.
“It’s a bikini, Luca, not lingerie,” I argue, waving a hand down the length of my body. “It’s not even a thong.”
Luca squeezes his eyes shut and inhales.
When he opens them again after a ten count, they remain fixed on Roman, dark and stormy, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the effort of keeping his rage in check.
But I see it in the way the tendons stand out in his neck, how his lips have thinned, and when he speaks again, the deep register of his voice that barely comes out above a whisper.
“Roman, you have five seconds to get out of my sight before I do something that won't heal with some stitches."
Roman doesn't need to be told twice. He's gone so fast, that I’m scared he’ll undo the progress he’s made while he hobbles off, fleeing toward the house. He slides the door closed behind him, not daring to return my little wave, and melts into the shadows inside.
And then it's just me and Luca, with the afternoon sun blazing down on us, and tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
He turns slowly, and finally, his dark gaze clashes with mine, sending a giddy rush through me. As his eyes drop, lower and lower still, covering every inch of my body like a caress and drinking in every detail, my body reacts, getting a thrill out of knowing he likes what he sees.
Then I remember I’m still pissed off at him and square my shoulders, determined not to be such a pushover.
"That was unnecessarily dramatic," I say with a sigh, reaching for my sunscreen.
"Is that right?" Luca's jaw works, a muscle ticking beneath the skin.
I squeeze lotion into my palm to distract myself, even though I have plenty on already, refusing to let him see how much his reaction affects me.
“I offered to help. That’s it.”
"You offered to put your hands on one of my men?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You are mine, Sienna. Every inch of you. Every touch. And I will not stand by while you let other men enjoy what belongs to me."
His territorial behavior makes my insides quiver, and quite frankly, I judge myself for being this turned on by it, even wanting more. I need to know that this marriage, this chemistry, isn’t just about screwing over his father, but also, more than a little about me.
"I'm not your wife yet," I say, but it comes out breathier than I wanted. "And with the way you're acting, maybe I won’t ever be."
A fleeting wildness flashes across his face. For a moment, I think he's either going to grab me and kiss me or toss me in the pool. Instead, he suddenly takes a large step back, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
"Sienna, you’re walking a dangerous line. I’m giving you more leeway than I would anyone because I know you. But this is not college, and we are not twenty years old. You need to adjust your attitude and your expectations of how things will be."
Ha.
"Exactly. We’re all grown up now.” I pick up my book. “But even back then, deleting all the boys from my phone and losing it with some guy I’m helping would have been completely crossing a line."
Fully aware of his hungry eyes on my body, I stretch out on the lounge chair and let him take a long, hard look.
For an uncomfortable moment, nothing happens, and unease prickles at my senses.
Maybe I’ve pushed him too far. He is armed.
Maybe he has a gun pointed at me right now, deciding that putting up with my shit is too high a price to take over the family business.
“I thought you would be a good choice for a wife because we know each other, we can talk things through…”
I can feel his gaze on me, burning into my skin.
“Right. Just like you talked through erasing all of my friend’s numbers.
” Opening one eye, I look up at him. “Or maybe, the idea of having some fun made you forget that I might have agreed to be your wife, but I’m not getting a lobotomy.
I’m still me. And I won’t be walked all over or pushed around.
” Returning to my book once more, I add, “Maybe you need to adjust your expectations and think about whether you’ve got the right woman for the job. ”
Suddenly, my book is ripped from my fingers and tossed into the pool, floating, pages spread in the heavenly blue water.
Luca leans over me, one hand on either side of my head, as he eases lower and lower until his handsome face is mere inches from mine. His manly scent surrounds me, his clothed body looming over mine, deliciously strong and serious.
He traces a finger along my jaw, down my neck, and lower still, drawing a line along the valley between my breasts. “I’ve chosen the right woman. But maybe if you stop being a brat to test me, we could get on with enjoying each other.”
He rests one knee on the lounger, right between my parted thighs. I’m staring at his full mouth one second, waiting for his kiss, and the next, I’m listening to his footsteps retreat before the doors slam shut.
Alone now, I lie perfectly still, catching my breath and debating whether my book, well, his book really, is salvageable, but I can't relax, my nerves buzzing with unspent adrenaline.
The look on his face when he saw me touching Roman is etched into my mind. The raw possessiveness, the way he called me his wife, proudly, and made it clear nobody else was allowed to touch what’s his.
It absolutely should not turn me on.
Is that why I’m really so furious with him?
Not that he deleted my contacts, or because he's controlling and possessive and completely unreasonable, but because instead of plotting my escape, I’m lying here with my thighs pressed together and my pulse thrumming with want?
But I keep thinking about Sophia, about the smug certainty when she told me she'd be back in Luca's bed, my presence a mere temporary inconvenience.
I was jealous, but I didn’t take that out on him. Quite the opposite, in fact.
The unfairness of it burns through me, hot and bright, and before I know what I'm doing, I'm on my feet, throwing his unbuttoned shirt on as a cover-up, and marching toward the house.
I find my way to his bedroom, ignoring the sound of running water and the steam curling into the main room, and march into the en-suite without knocking.
The bathroom is all marble and glass, and Luca stands in the massive walk-in shower, water sluicing down his broad back, with his head bowed under the spray. He hasn't heard me come in, or if he has, he's ignoring me.
I take a moment to look my fill.
God, he's beautiful. Uncomfortably, devastatingly beautiful.
All that tanned skin stretched over hard muscle, the water tracing paths down his spine, over the curve of his ass, and down those powerful thighs.
Remembering how it felt to have those arms around me, that body pressed against mine, my mouth goes dry.
"Are you going to stand there staring, or did you have something you wanted to say?" His words startle me. He hasn't turned around, hasn't even moved, but somehow, he knew I was here.
I step further into the bathroom, my bare feet silent on the heated floor. The closer I get, the better the view and the harder it is to stop moving forward. I wish the steam would clear and let me see him in all his glory.
"Sophia told me she'd be back in your bed before the vows dry. That your father will get rid of me and make you marry her."
That makes him turn. Water streams down his muscular chest, his mood dark and intense as he stands there like a statue. "Did she now?"
Resting one hand on the tiles in front of him, he lifts his head under the spray.
I refuse to let him see how much the memory still stings. "She made it very clear that in your world, an engagement meant nothing. That you could and would do whatever you wanted. And that you'd continue to sleep with her even after you married me."
Luca says nothing, just twists his head and watches me with those unfathomable eyes.
"I was jealous." The admission costs me, but I force it out anyway.
"I hated hearing it. I hated the thought of you with her, or with anyone besides me. Worried that maybe your father can force you to change your mind. But I handled it, and I told you. And I certainly didn’t take it out on you, even if it played on some concerns I already have, made worse by you leaving without telling me last night. "
I rest my fingers against the fogged glass.
"Sienna..."
"You don't get to lose your mind because I touched another man's knee while I control myself watching women throw themselves at you.
" I'm on a roll now, suddenly venting the anger and insecurity about how this will work that has been building up inside me. "You don’t get to do whatever you want, come and go as you please, letting me worry about where you are and if you’re okay, while I can’t even make friends with your staff. "