Chapter 7
Ava stared at Luca, shocked that he would put her on his lap and…
and…kiss her. Her brain stuttered, tripping over itself in disbelief.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not here, not like this.
Yet there she was, perched on his lap, stunned after that soft, sweet kiss while every nerve in her body was on fire.
Good grief, the man felt good. Not just warm, but right.
Solid muscle beneath her, heat radiating through the fine fabric of his suit as if his body were deliberately trying to melt hers into him.
She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the iron strength of his thighs bracing her, the powerful grip of his arm anchoring her in place.
For one stunned, dangerous heartbeat, the realization hit her like a wave—she liked how good he felt. Too much. Her lips tingled, her skin buzzed, and the part of her that fought so hard for control was drowned out by the traitorous thought that she fit against him perfectly.
It took every ounce of willpower to keep from melting against him, from snuggling closer like her body demanded. She was reminded of her thought yesterday—how dangerous it would be to give in—but suddenly, Ava managed to shove it aside. She had to stay practical. She had to keep her head.
So, instead of leaning into his warmth, Ava pushed herself up, relieved that he didn’t stop her this time.
She slipped off his lap and circled to the front of his desk, her pulse racing as though she’d just run a marathon.
But her nerves wouldn’t let her stand still.
Her heels clicked silently against the carpeting as she paced, fingers laced tightly together in front of her as she tried to pull her composure back into place.
When she turned to face him, there was a smug, triumphant smile on his handsome features. One that she ached to wipe away.
“Rule number one: You never stop me from running my business or working at my company. My company is very important to me.”
“Agreed,” he replied immediately, without hesitation. “And likewise, you won’t interfere with my business.”
Ava glanced around, taking in the opulent details of his office—the polished wood, the sleek, dark leather furniture, and the luxurious but subtle décor. Lifting her hand in a dramatic flourish, she agreed, “Not a problem.”
“What else?” Luca prompted.
“You won’t demand I host dinner parties for you and your colleagues.”
He hesitated slightly at that, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”
Ava shifted on her feet, glaring back at him with a raised eyebrow, silently letting him know this was a “duh” moment. “Because that would interfere with rule number one.”
“How so?” Luca leaned forward, genuinely curious.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Because if I have to organize dinner parties or social events, that takes away from running my business. You’ve already agreed not to interfere.”
“Point taken.” Luca nodded, tapping his fingers against his chair. “But you’ll attend social engagements with me.”
“Some,” she clarified stubbornly, her eyes narrowing at him. “Not all.”
“Most,” he countered. “Ten social engagements a month.”
Ava’s eyes widened. She’d seen media coverage of his parties on the internet—the man had a massive social circle as the owner of a major casino, not to mention his Mafia connections.
Surely he attended more than ten social engagements a month!
She imagined that he attended that many in a week!
Still, her pride forced her to argue. “Two,” she immediately shot back.
“Eight,” Luca argued.
“Three,” she countered, making him raise an eyebrow at her persistence.
“Six,” Luca said, smiling like he’d just won a minor victory.
Ava paused, taking a deep breath. “Fine. Six social events a month.”
“And you’ll manage them,” Luca added, his grin widening.
“Absolutely not.” Ava jerked her head toward the door. “You’ve had someone organizing and managing the parties so far—just keep that person in charge.”
Luca pursed his lips, considering her request. After a beat, he gave a small nod. “Fine. What else?”
Ava straightened her shoulders, feeling a sudden rush of boldness. “I want a baby,” she blurted, then immediately held her breath, waiting for him to laugh at her.
Thankfully, Luca didn’t laugh. In fact, he nodded quickly, his tone becoming more serious. “I want children as well. Lots of them.”
Ava pulled back slightly, her eyes wary now. “What’s your definition of ‘lots’?”
He tilted his head, giving her a measured look. Had his eyes moved down over Ava’s figure? Maybe not.
“Six,” he said, without skipping a beat.
Ava literally took a step backward, her eyes widening in disbelief. “No way!” she laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not going through six pregnancies.” She shifted slightly, considering the idea. “One child,” she said firmly, thinking of all the love she could pour into a single child.
“Four,” Luca countered, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth.
“Two,” she shot back, perhaps more impulsively than she should have.
“Fine. Two.” Luca agreed, but there was an unexpected heat in his eyes, as if the idea of a family was starting to turn into a different kind of negotiation.
“And we conceive at a fertility clinic.”
He chuckled and this time, there was no mistaking the way his eyes took in her figure. “No, my dear. We will make those babies the old fashioned way.”
There was a deep blush, but Ava didn’t argue. The kiss yesterday was enough evidence that they were sexually compatible. And if she were being perfectly honest with herself – which didn’t always happen when this man was involved – she wanted to have sex with Luca. Lots of sex!
Ava stood in front of Luca’s massive desk, arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at him.
The plush leather chair he sat in didn’t swallow him as it had when she’d sat there.
In fact, the massive chair seemed to make his broad shoulders appear even more imposing.
The soft light from the window behind him cast a warm glow, highlighting the sleek, dark wood furniture and the elegance of his space.
“Also, any children we have will attend St. Agatha’s School,” he said, interrupting her contemplation of his very nice shoulders.
Ava blinked, startled by his statement. “You want our kids to go to private school?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Luca leaned back in his chair, his hands resting casually on the arms. A confident grin tugged at his lips. “What’s the problem? Private schools are the best option. Our children deserve the best education, the best teachers, the best extracurriculars. What’s wrong with that?”
“Because private schools are elitist!” Ava shot back, her voice rising with the force of her opinion.
“They’re all about who you know, not what you can do.
I don’t want our kids growing up thinking their name or your money will get them whatever they want.
I want them to work for it, Luca. Earning it for themselves is important. ”
He tilted his head, clearly amused. “And I don’t want them to have to fight for scraps when they could have more advantages. Do you really want our kids to go without the advanced programs—languages, arts, sciences—that private schools offer?”
Ava crossed her arms tighter, frowning at him. “I want them to learn about real life. You know, how to make their own way, how to get along with people who don’t have an unlimited bank account.”
Luca raised a finger, ready to make his counterpoint. “Public school is fine, but private schools give our kids a head start. They’ll have access to everything—resources, connections, advantages that public schools simply can’t provide.”
Ava shook her head. “Our kids will learn to appreciate real work, Luca. They’ll learn how to hustle, how to connect with people on their own terms, not just because their name is on the guest list at the next fundraiser.”
Luca leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the desk. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point. Public school it is—but,” he raised an eyebrow, “they’re also getting private tutors. And I want them to go to the best damn public school in the city.”
Ava sighed in mock exasperation. “Fine, fine. But they’re not going to be the next generation of CEOs by age twelve, okay?”
Luca chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Agreed. But they’ll have the tools to get there if that’s what they want.”
Ava tapped her foot, her nerves rising as she thought about the next topic. “Alright, next—religion. We both grew up Catholic, so I’m assuming we’re on the same page here?”
Luca gave a casual nod. “Of course. We’ll raise them Catholic. Baptism, first communion, all of it.”
“Good,” Ava said, relieved that was one area they didn’t need to debate.
“Now,” Luca said, his eyes glinting with mischief, “let’s discuss child-rearing.”
Ava laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
Luca leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting from her face to the floor as he considered the subject.
“I’m going to be the tough one, the one who keeps them in line.
We don’t need a bunch of little rebels running around.
I’m the one who’ll say ‘no’ to them when they want to skip out on school or break the rules.
” He offered a half grin. “You will be the soft one.”
Ava laughed. “Luca, you’re going to have to learn to be the soft one. Otherwise, you’ll terrorize our children.”
“I won’t.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Children need love and understanding, Luca. You can’t just order them about like your staff.”