Chapter 6
Luca walked into his office, his mind racing as he thought through the various possibilities.
Ava had texted him last night, asking to meet to discuss “terms.” What that meant, he had no idea, but if Ava was involved, it was bound to be interesting.
The woman fascinated him—her energy, that fire in her eyes, and, above all, that stubborn streak of hers.
Damn, how he loved it..
He didn’t want to subdue her—no, that wasn’t the right word.
He didn’t want to break her, but he sure as hell wanted to channel all of that fiery stubbornness, all of that defiance, toward himself.
He wanted to feel her body tremble under his, wanted her to demand everything from him, everything she wanted.
He wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she craved, her will bending but only in the way she allowed him to shape it.
The thought of her demanding things from him—her voice sharp, her eyes intense—made his body tighten. He could almost picture it: the way she would look at him, fiery and fierce, as she demanded that he serve her, pleasure her in ways she’d never considered before.
Ava Santos was going to become his wife, and she would have every inch of him, in every way.
He hadn’t expected the surprise of walking into his office and finding her already in his chair.
The big, leather chair dwarfed her small frame.
She looked almost... vulnerable, like a little girl, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was kicking her feet under the desk, her legs unable to reach the thick carpeting.
But as adorable as she looked, glaring at him with all the defiance she could muster, Luca wasn’t going to put up with that stubborn chin sticking out, like she was daring him to do something about it.
No, he wasn’t going to entertain her little act of defiance.
Instead, he walked over to his chair, reached down, and scooped her up, sitting down with her on his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You wanted to talk?” he prompted, as he settled back, one hand resting lightly on her back while the other casually found its way to her knee, her wool skirt soft under his fingertips. “So talk. Let’s negotiate.”
Ava sputtered with indignation, trying to stand up, but Luca remembered all too well how she’d sputtered in frustration yesterday.
He’d stopped that with a kiss—a simple press of his mouth against hers that had silenced her arguments and had left him burning for the rest of the afternoon.
It had been reckless, dangerous, and unforgettable.
And he wasn’t above using the same tactic again.
Sliding his hand along her thigh, Luca felt her body stiffen, her breath catching as a small gasp slipped from her lips. The sharp retort she’d been ready to throw at him died on her tongue, her mouth falling open, vulnerable and unguarded.
A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Perfect.
But instead of devouring her the way he ached to, Luca leaned in, brushing his lips against hers with a tenderness that startled even him. A soft, deliberate kiss—gentle where he could have demanded, coaxing where he could have taken.
For a heartbeat, she froze, every muscle taut as though bracing for battle. Then, almost imperceptibly, she softened, her lips trembling beneath his as her resistance wavered. The faintest sigh escaped her, warm against his mouth, betraying the war she fought with herself.
Luca lingered there, savoring the taste of her defiance melting into something sweeter, more dangerous. Pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, he saw the conflict blazing there—fire and fury tangled with a desire she could no longer deny.
“Better,” he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. “What’s your first requirement of our marriage?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement as he watched her shock unfold. Her adorable shock.