by Fiona Murphy
“I like having an entire kitchen at my disposal. Whatever I want, when I want it. Although it’s made me spoiled. I can admit that.” He holds out a chair for me at a table in the back corner of the room.
For the next two hours, I find myself melting under Luca’s concentrated attention. I’m not sure how he has managed to get me to share so much, although I don’t think it’s fair I’ve done all the talking. Just like last night, it starts slowly, with one text he answers then another until his phone is ringing and he has to go to work.
He guides me into the elevator, but this time he doesn’t step close to me. When the elevator stops he nods. “I don’t dare touch you or I won’t be able to leave you. Good night.”
I’m annoyed he’s just leaving me. I’m one of those things he has whenever he wants. Then when he’s done, he moves on to the next thing.
“It’s barely ten o’clock. I’m not some toy you can pick up and play with, then put down—" The words have barely left my mouth when it’s as if I flipped a switch. The change in him is instant: Luca’s eyes are heavy and hot with hunger, burning my skin where they touch. His hand snakes out and catches me by the back of the neck, pulling me to him. Pressed against his muscled chest, the bubbles are back and the champagne has exploded and is coursing through my veins in a fizzy rush.
His mouth is so close I need only move the smallest bit to reach him. Sexual tension thickens around us until it’s so thick the air is vibrating with it. That electricity is back, skating down my spine leaving me trembling in its wake. Damn him, he’s driving me crazy, the way he’s allowing his breath to mingle with mine yet not moving an inch. The thumping of his heartbeat, strong and steady teases my swollen, heavy breasts.
“I’m working so damn hard to maintain control when it comes to you. It’s not easy, Bella. It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.” He bites out as his jaw clenches tight.
It’s a warning, he won’t make the first move. Maybe it’s the heady scent that is pure Luca teasing me, or that damn champagne running through my veins leaving me intoxicated for him—whatever it is, I can’t take it anymore. I move toward him, but he steps back.
He said he wouldn’t touch me again unless I wanted him to. I want him to so very badly. My hands find his chest; he’s so hard, tightly coiled strength, yet it’s tempered for me. Running my hands up his chest, I stand on tip toe to find the silk of his skin at the back of his neck and draw him down to me. I feel air shudder out of him.
Giving in to need, I press my lips to his. Soft, so very soft. So why does it feel as if I’ve touched a live wire? Electricity zips through every inch of me. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. A gasp leaves me. Luca sweeps into my mouth, his tongue parting my lips even further. Slowly, gently his tongue teases me. He tastes of coffee, of wine, of dreams I never knew I had. Deepening the kiss his velvet tongue explores in a hot, wet, sensual expertise that has me clinging to him, desperate for more. Until the moment my back hits the bed.
All at once dark memories claw at me. It doesn’t matter that the man pressing me down into the mattress is Luca and I know he would never hurt me. Fear threatens to overwhelm me. I’m pushing him away, fighting for air.
“Shh...” Luca is whispering into my hair. “It’s okay, Bella. Breathe deep for me, once more, you can do it. Good girl. There you go.”
Oh god, I try to get away to bury my face in the pillow beneath me. I’m the one who kissed him, then I freaked out all over again. How does he not hate me?
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a tease or anything. I told you I was a mess,” I mutter.
“Bella, look at me,” Luca orders from above me. It’s instinct to give in to the demand. His black eyes glitter like diamonds. A gentle hand runs over my cheek. “You aren’t a tease, mi amore. This was my fault. I’m too greedy for you. Patience is still something I’m learning for you. I’m sorry. I should never have done more than take the kiss you offered.”
I shake my head, hating the way he’s taking all the blame when I’m the one who is messed up, not him. He warned me, but I kissed him anyway.
A thumb wipes away a tear I didn’t realize had slipped out. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to take this slow. It’s not going to be easy, for either of us. Trust that we will get there in the end.”
“How can you know for sure?” I whisper, my throat tight at how calm, how certain he is.
His smile has my heart pounding in my fingertips and heat pooling at the apex of my thighs.
“There is no other option for me.” He shrugs with serene acceptance, as if he wasn’t bothered in the slightest by having to deal with my broken ass.
Catching my hand, he presses his lips to my palm then places it flat against his chest. “You are all there is for me. I will do whatever it takes for however long it takes, until you are ready.”
“What if it takes too long and you get frustrated?” I voice my worst fear. Luca Sabatini is gorgeous, and it would take him less than ten minutes to find another woman to give him what he wants.
“However long you need is as long as I will wait.”
I jump at his cell phone ringing.
He pulls it out. “I have to go.” It’s an apology, again. One I still am not sure I deserve.
“I understand.”
With a brush of his lips over my cheek, he’s gone.
***
Luca
I shut down my computer for the day, ready to get back to Bella when the door to my office in the casino opens. The door bangs against the wall behind it, and Sandro fills the doorway. “Who is she? Who is the woman who is going to get you killed?”
“Always with the drama.” I should have known. I can also admit I should have told him yesterday when we were done with the mayor. If not Pop, then Sandro. As my number two, he needs to be prepared and aware of what could come our way.
“If she were no big deal then you would have told me already. Anyone who is a big enough deal for you to hide from me is also a big enough deal to get you killed. This isn’t you. You don’t hide shit from me. If she’s getting you to do stuff you don’t do, then she’s also got you not thinking straight. And you not thinking straight is going to get you killed.” Sandro slams the door closed as he shakes his head and begins pacing my office.
Telling him he’s wrong is a waste of a time, because hearing it—he’s right. If I’m not thinking straight, it could get me killed. “Her father is Augusto Reyes. He promised her to Manual Rodriguez as a wife.” I exhale it as I lean back in my chair. “I’m not letting her go. She is my woman.”
Sandro goes still as he stares at me. He doesn’t say anything as he goes to the window and looks down on Vegas as the sun is coming up over the city. “You’re willing to start a war for her, to spill blood for her?”
I don’t say anything. I don’t need to.
He turns to face me. “Have you told Tony and Dominic? Were they able to talk some sense into you?”
More questions he knows the answer to.
“It doesn’t matter to you that the blood spilled could be your own? You know Augusto Reyes will likely kill her too, right? He’s killed four of his own sons; killing her would be nothing to him.”
“I’m not going to be easy to kill and he’ll have to go through me to get to her.” I shrug.
Sandro shakes his head. “If she were returned—”
“If the first blood to be spilled is yours, I have no problem with that at all.” I growl low in my throat.
Closing his eyes, he sighs. “Okay, okay. I just, fuck, Luca...you might be ready to die—I’m not. If you’ll remember the last time we went up against Reyes, the fucker left me for dead. I spent two months in a hospital bed and was told I would never walk again.”
“The fucker shot me in the back. I vividly remember the last time we went up against Reyes. He left Vegas without two fingers and only he and his son got out alive. I will never let her go. Make sure we’re st
ocked up on bullets and guns and I’ll let you know when you need to worry.”
He opens his mouth but just nods, and he’s gone.
I close my eyes and go over the exchange, wondering if I should kill him for even saying Bella should be returned. I’ve known Sandro since I was a kid. With his father as Al’s number two, he was always around with Michael grooming him for business. We weren’t exactly friends, though. My uncle Luca looked down on Michael and his family. They didn’t speak Italian and Michael’s wife was Filipino, so it wasn’t until I took over that I really got to know him.
When Michael died, I wanted Sandro as my number two. Carlo said no, not with those tattoos and him not being full Italian. That shit didn’t matter to me—although the neck tattoo did piss me off. He admitted he regretted the neck tattoo, but it hurt too much to have it removed. Sandro is the only other person besides Natasha I trust in Vegas. Yet, a threat in the slightest to Bella cannot go unanswered.
For the first time in a long time, Valdez doesn’t answer my call until the fourth ring. “I want you to dig into Sandro. Tell me if there’s something I should know.”
“Call or email?”
“Call.”
He clears his throat. “I thought you should know. I sent you an email ten minutes ago and was going to follow up with a call. However, I’m currently fielding about a half dozen people in regards to the news. Reyes is in the hospital. He had a heart attack. Word is they don’t know how he’s alive, he should be dead. Tomorrow he’s having a quadruple bypass done. The outlook isn’t good.”
“Can anything be done to help him along?” I sit up, hoping there’s an easy way out of all of this.
“I’m looking into it. Outlook also not good. They are holding the families of almost half the hospital staff hostage until he’s out of surgery. The other half of the staff is being flooded with money. It’s a clusterfuck.” His disgust is clear.
My guess is I’m not the only person to ask if something could be done to end the man. “If anything can be done, you can name your price.”
He chuckles darkly. “There are deeper pockets already asking.”
“I figured as much.” Hanging up, I look out over the city and give thanks that for now Augusto Reyes is not a concern. He will be, soon. But not right now. For now, my only concern is Bella.
With that thought, I leave my office and get into the elevator to take me thirty floors up. The closer I get to Bella, the more my skin is growing tight and my body hard for her. Then I remember how freaked she got when I lost control last night, and my cock goes limp.
Christ, I never want that to happen again. Once should have been enough. How the hell could I have allowed my control to slip? I promised her I would never hurt her. Remembering her tears, the way she apologized to me when fuck all, I didn’t deserve it... I should have never taken her to bed, it was stupid. I wasn’t going to have all the time I wanted with her for the first time we made love. There was also the way even as she was pressing her lips to mine, she did so with a hint of fear.
All I should have done was accept her kiss then let her go. Yet my brain completely shut down. I was acting on base desire and need. She wanted me. Bella wanted me enough to overcome her fear. It meant she trusted me. After all the hell she went through... I was completely undone by her trust in me and with that I nearly broke that trust by failing her.
Phillip is waiting.
“How did she do tonight?” I ask.
“Good. She was only up for another two hours after you left, which she spent in the pool.” He sighs. “But, she, um...”
“What?” My chest goes tight.
“She slept in the guest bedroom tonight.” A hand motions to the cameras. The cameras cover all the rooms except the bedrooms, bathrooms, and my office.
I shrug. “It’s fine.” Even though I’m not happy about it, I’m not surprised.
For the first time in years, I skip working out. My need for Bella is too strong. I head for the shower and spend a solid twenty minutes stroking my cock as I imagine all the things I want to do to her. Out of the shower I put on a pair of silk boxers for her. My preference is sleeping nude. However, I don’t want to scare her or overwhelm her.
Opening the door to the guest room, I leave the door ajar to let light in from the hallway. I don’t want to wake her. However, she will not sleep anywhere but my bed. Last night as we lay awake talking, holding hands, it felt more intimate than any time I have ever fucked a woman. Just our voices in the darkness, with her small hand in mine. I hate that I slept through her moving across the bed to me and putting her head on my chest. Waking up with her in my arms was pure heaven.
As I pull back the sheet and comforter, I see she is wearing another dress shirt of mine as well as a pair of pink cotton panties. Damn, my cock is painfully hard as I pick her up and take her to our room.
She sighs and whispers my name when I put her into bed. It makes my cock so hard it fucking hurts. It takes a few minutes for me to get into bed. Once I’m there, I roll to my side to find she’s already moved to the middle of the bed and is holding her hand out for mine. Soft, small, I marvel at her trust in me, grateful for her need for this.
I’m exhausted but when she asks me how the meeting went with the mayor, I tell her. The mayor wants me to help fund a traveling exhibit of Van Gogh. I’m willing to but only if it’s comes to my hotel. We are currently at a stalemate over it.
“I love Van Gogh. He’s one of my favorite artists.”
“You sound like my father. Pop loves art. He can spend hours at the Art Institute where he lives in Chicago. They have a Monet room he loves.”
My exhaustion disappears and I lose track of time as she talks about her favorite artists. How she got into the Chicago Art Institute. It was a dream of hers to visit and see the art they have there. Hearing her call Picasso a dick has me laughing. I’d love to be able to see her beautiful face, but I think she gains a certain strength with the lights off.
Last night she had fallen asleep first. Tonight I fall asleep without meaning to. I come awake this time, though, when she moves across the bed and lays her head on my chest. Sliding my arm around her waist, I hold her tight. She sighs as she snuggles into me. Nothing in this world has felt as right as Bella in my arms.
She isn’t fighting me. Bella belongs to me and knows it, wants it. All the other shit will work out. It’s like I told her, there is no other option. Without her nothing matters, not a single fucking thing. So I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.
7
Isa
I come awake in Luca’s arms. My head is on his chest, I’m entranced at the way muscles flex and move with every breath he takes. Careful not to wake him, I peek at the bedside table. It’s a little after twelve. How do I sleep so long with him?
My finger traces over the words of his tattoo in Latin. It will be done. How very Luca. This is the fourth morning since I first woke up in his arms. Every morning is sweeter than the last. I’ve adjusted to his schedule so we climb into bed together. I love the way we move around the penthouse then our room together, brushing our teeth, talking about our day before we get into bed. As much as I want to, I can’t start the night in his arms. He’s patient with me, holding my hand as we talk of our past, sharing pain and laughter. Luca speaks casually of our future as if there is no Augusto or threat of death, just us. Sometime during the night I move, it’s always me, never Luca. Then I wake in his arms.
Luca has gone out of his way not to kiss me; all but the smallest of touches are instigated by me. Last night he brought me on his walk of the casino, and it was fascinating. He genuinely cared about his employees, both in the hotel and casino and those who handled mafia business. It made him even more appealing.
His large hand comes down over mine, holding it in place. “Brave this morning, aren’t you?”
I pout, “You’re supposed to be asleep for another ten minutes.”
“Hmm, you really think I’m able to sleep through all
the touching of me you do every morning? I’m sleeping, not dead, mi amore.”
Blushing, I go still as I realize what he’s saying. Over the last few days when I woke up before his alarm went off, I hadn’t been able to keep from touching him. Luca’s body is a work of art from the soft silk of his skin, to the glossy black hair, and the perfectly formed muscles my fingertips explored every morning with helpless absorption. I only found the guts to do it because I thought he was asleep. Now he’s telling me he wasn’t. How embarrassing. And does it make me creepy—touching him without his permission?
His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Waking up to your touch is waking up in heaven. I understand this is all new to you. Touch me as much as you want.” He purrs like a slumbering lion arrogantly taking it as his due that I cannot keep my hands off him.
Those endless black eyes invite me to plunge headlong into them. So I do. Taking a deep breath, I close the distance between us to press my lips against his. He goes still, then a hand threads through my hair. I expect a command like the last time he kissed me. Instead, he is gentle, sweet.
His velvet tongue tastes every inch of me, exploring with infinite patience, clearly noting my every whimper, shudder, and gasp. My breasts go heavy, then my nipples tighten as wet heat floods me. He catches my tongue and sucks. A shudder rips through me. Deeper he seeks more, and I give up to him, certain he isn’t taking just to take. And I’m right. Masterfully skilled Luca plunges us both into a wildfire out of control, at least that’s how it feels to me but Luca is very much in control.
My heartbeat is pounding in my ears, fingertips, and almost painfully against the wall of my chest when Luca pulls away. Black eyes glitter as he presses soft, hot kisses over my lips, then down my neck.
