Chapter Eight #2
Then, when she was nothing but twitches and panting breath, he gathered her up the way he had from the church and carried her to his bed.
Luca had meetings all day, ones that he physically attended, but his mind stayed with the woman he’d left sleeping in his bed.
Dio, what a night. He’d had to remind himself again and again to be careful with her, but that had made it all the more exciting to hold her in his lap while he was buried deep inside her, making her come with only the press of his thumb to her nipple and his lips in her throat.
She was so responsive to his every touch. So greedy for it.
When he’d finally let himself go, they’d both shuddered in climax for what felt like eternity. It should have exhausted both of them, but she’d awakened him in the night, catching her breath in a sharp gasp.
“What’s wrong?” He’d reached across to find her damp with perspiration. “Nightmare?”
“No. I—” Her light hand had followed his arm to his shoulder, fingers dancing nervously against his skin, both holding him off and offering a tentative caress. “I was dreaming that we were…” Her hand slid to brush his nipple.
He was instantly awake.
“I can make your dreams come true, bella.” He had drawn her closer, tucking her beneath him as he let his hand stray to where she was slick and eager, fully aroused by her dreams. Of him.
Before he could kiss his way down her center, she had pressed his shoulder and said, “That’s not how it went.”
In the near blackness of the night, she had trailed her hair down his chest and had taken him into her mouth. He could still feel the cool silk across his stomach, the brush of her breasts on his thighs. The swirl of her tongue and delicate suction that—
“Luca?”
His name was a sharp yank back to the reality of monetary policy amid a challenging economic climate.
“Did you have any final thoughts before we vote?”
“No.” He was more than ready to wrap this up and get home to his fiancée.
When the meeting closed and he walked out of the small board room, however, Paolo was waiting for him.
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Luca said as he greeted him.
“I didn’t, either, but I fielded some calls today that we should discuss. Do you mind?” Paolo indicated Luca’s office.
Luca brought him in and poured them both a drink, eschewing formality and sitting down across from him in the lounge area.
“I presume this is about Jade?” Luca had been anticipating some sort of broader reaction to his sudden engagement.
“Did you ever hear gossip about how Lauren and I got together?” Paolo asked instead of answering.
“I don’t pay attention to gossip.” But Luca had heard that Lauren had been married to Paolo’s best friend many years ago. There’d been a falling-out between the men and, given the timing of their son, Paolo and Lauren had connected very quickly after the death of her first husband.
“Fair enough,” Paolo said easily. “But sometimes rumors are true.”
“I know what people say about Jade.” Something very dark rose in Luca. It was primal and protective and bloodthirsty. “If you’re about to repeat any of it, things will be very ugly between us.”
“God no.” Paolo recoiled, mouth twisting with disgust. “Lauren took heat like that, too. It’s horrible and sexist as hell.
No, I was only trying to reassure you that I don’t judge your relationship with her, impulsive as it may look.
I’ve been in that place myself and can see it’s not a whim for either of you. ”
“However?” Luca prompted, wondering uncomfortably what it was, exactly, that told Paolo this was more serious than the pull of intense passion.
“A whisper campaign has begun,” Paolo said.
“Threatening my position at the bank? Speak plainly, Paolo. I need to know who my enemies are. Atbridge?”
Paolo nodded, dropping any effort to couch his words.
“He’s a powerful man. So is his wife. She’s unhappy that Jade has stolen the spotlight from their daughter, who is about to announce her own engagement. They’re stoking speculation that you’re not actually the father of Jade’s baby.”
Resurrecting his history with Trieste? That debacle was recent enough, and had been public enough, that Luca hadn’t been able to paper over the reason for their breakup with a handful of lies, the way he had been able to distance himself from his father’s activities.
“They’re trying to drive a wedge between us,” Luca deduced. “And make me look stupid enough to fall victim to a scheming woman.”
“I’m doing what I can to ensure your professional integrity is not questioned. But yes. That is exactly what is happening.”
Waking alone after a night of pure hedonism, Jade had braced herself for Luca’s smug smile over breakfast.
He had already gone to his office, the housekeeper told her, leaving Jade to dwell on all the things they’d done. Her body was pleasantly achy, but her inner self squirmed with exposure.
“You like sex,” her first and only boyfriend had said when she’d gone back to his flat with him one hot July night.
She’d been twenty, more than ready to lose her virginity. She had liked sex. They’d proceeded to have a lot of it that summer in Edinburgh.
Like her, Wyatt had been there on a paid internship, otherwise they never would have spoken to each other.
He was a schoolmate of her half brother and had given her a cold shoulder for the first week.
They’d been thrown together constantly, though, mostly to fetch coffee and lunches, occasionally to do more constructive work like preparing slides for a presentation.
Slowly he thawed, especially when he realized she worked triple hard to ensure she wasn’t criticized, making him look good no matter how little he contributed.
Wyatt had seemed like decent person. He’d told her she was pretty and laughed at her jokes and spoiled her by taking her on picnics and dates to see bands she liked. For a few weeks, things had been dreamy and romantic. She had thought they were falling in love.
Deep down, she had known they didn’t have a future, though. As summer waned, she had braved asking him what would happen when they got back to Oxford.
“Nothing.” He had looked genuinely regretful. “I love you, Jade, but I can’t be with you.”
“Why not?” There’d been a tearing sensation in her chest as she felt him pulling away, not because of anything she’d done, but because of who she was. Because she wasn’t just Noel Atbridge’s daughter. She was the one he didn’t want.
“You know why. What am I supposed to do? Take you to the Atbridge Christmas party this December?”
Her heart had fractured, but she had told herself she was lucky to have a nice memory. If he had left it at that, that’s what she would have had. Her heart would have mended.
But that fall, mere days into the semester, she had bumped into him. They’d only been apart two weeks and exchanged a pleasant catch-up. He’d said she looked good.
“Really good.” His approving gaze had traveled down her in a way that warmed her cheeks, making her smile with pleasure. With misguided hope. She wanted to be loved. Everyone did.
“Wyatt!” It had been her half brother, making her heart lurch as she saw how he was glaring at them with a mixture of confusion and disgust. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Wyatt had walked away from her and she’d overheard him say, “We were in Edinburgh together. She wanted to say hi.”
“What do you mean, together? Did you…?”
“She gives it out like samples at the fudge counter,” Wyatt scoffed. “What do you think?”
That had been it. Her reputation as a slut was sealed.
Wyatt had tried to apologize later. It was a joke, he claimed. But she knew what it had been—fear of her father. That’s how much power Noel had over people. He couldn’t just ignore her. He had to denigrate her. Prove his allegiance.