Marrying Her Enemy & Stolen by the Desert King

by Clare Connelly

  “I’m glad you’re here.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat and looked up at his face. Into his eyes, so deep and dark and rich with unspoken emotion.

  The explanation he’d been preparing himself to make died on his lips. Uncertainty began to form into certainty. A certainty that he was simply not a big enough man to risk losing Rosie. Even if it meant keeping an important detail of their shared past from her. He couldn’t confess what he’d done to her. So instead, he kissed her. Hard, and desperately, his body instantly tightening with desire. He stepped into the apartment, pulling her with him. He kicked the door shut without breaking their contact. His arms pulled at her singlet, lifting it over her head and throwing it across the room. It landed on a light shade, but he was too captivated by Rosie to notice or care.

  He pushed her pants down, low enough so that she could easily step out of them, and then he lifted her and carried her to the bed against the pink wall. He laid her down gently, reverently, but he felt impatient to possess her. To erase both of their pained thoughts with pleasure.

  Rosie’s fingers were trembling as she pushed at the buttons of his shirt, trying ineffectually to free him from his clothing. He growled with his need and pushed the shirt down, then lowered himself on top of her. Her skin against his was soft and perfect. “I need you,” he whispered against her lips, kissing her with all his desperate hunger.

  “Yes,” she nodded in agreement. Her hands were at his belt, loosening and removing it in one swift movement. He finished the job, sliding his pants off and kicking them away impatiently.

  His traced his tongue lower, over the sensitive flesh just beneath her ear, to her neck, and his hands massaged her breasts, teasing her nipples, and tempting her flesh, making her moan over and over with needs and wants.

  “You are an angel,” he said earnestly, as he moved his mouth lower, over her flat stomach, to her sweetly indented navel.

  “No,” she shook her head. “You are. How did you know to be here, just when I need you?” She shuddered as he kissed her lower still, his tongue moving closer and closer to her core.

  When his hands gripped her thighs, she jumped, for the touch was so intimate, so new, that she could hardly process it. She arched her back, bucking off the bed as her body was swamped by the tide of sensation he was arousing. “Luca,” she whispered, pushing on to her elbows as his dark head lowered to the apex of her body. The feeling of his lips against her most personal space was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. Pleasure darted like barbs through her veins. Her voice was a high-pitched mewl in her throat; her hands were claws on his back as he drove her closer and closer to climax. “Oh, God,” she cried, digging her nails in deeper, her control slipping.

  She came with a thunderous sensation, her whole body beaded in a fine sweat brought about by the total outpouring of relief and release she’d experienced at his hands, his mouth, his body. But he was not done. Before she had had a chance to recover, he moved higher, and entered her swiftly, filling her with his erection.

  They’d made love once before, and it had been so sensational that she’d wondered if she’d imagined it. Now, her body rejoiced in the memories; her body had been right. He was her other half. He fit her perfectly; only he could drive her to this point. She tilted her head back, her blonde hair a skein against her forehead as she tried to process the complexity of sensations he was provoking.

  “Please tell me this feels as good for you,” she gasped between breaths, as another orgasm built deep in the pit of her stomach and funnelled outwards, sending shoots of promised pleasure through her limbs.

  “Trust me, Rosie, I have never felt anything like it.”

  She smiled through the haze of passion. He moved slowly, bewitching her body with his movements, taming her from inside out.

  He was making love to her out of a desperate need to atone for sins of the past. He was making love to her because he simply couldn’t not. Because he needed her as she needed him.

  Their release was simultaneous; his with a guttural oath and hers with a loud cry of fevered relief. “Luca,” she wrapped her arms tight around his middle and kissed his shoulder tenderly. Her breathing was slowly returning to normal. She ran her fingers down his smooth, dark back. Such a strong back. His muscles bunched beneath her touch, filling her with complete confidence in his power. With his body and the strength of the personality, Rosie was struck by the idea that Luca was so strong he could protect her from anything.

  “Thank you,” she breathed into the night air, her lips tingling with the smile she couldn’t suppress.

  “You are thanking me?” He looked somehow haunted, as though it had been the last thing he’d expected her to say.

  “Uh huh.” She grinned now. “I needed that.”

  Luca was silent. He rolled away from her, but instantly didn’t like the bereft feeling her absence left him with. So he pulled her gently towards him and laid her head on his chest. He watched as his rhythmic breathing tickled her hair, moving the fine blonde strands back and forth.

  “I like your home,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “It is very Rosie.”

  She looked around, surveying the walls she’d painted, the flowers that were everywhere, the eclectic assortment of antiques and vintage home wares she’d assembled over the years. “Thanks.”

  I’ve come to tell you I ruined your father’s life. And yours, too, I suppose. The words were chasing around and around in his head, begging to be spoken. “What was in the box? Of your father’s?”

  She pushed her chin up on his chest, so that her eyes could see him better. “Silly things, really. His ring from university. A watch he used to wear when I was small. Wedding photographs.”

  “Wedding photographs? May I see one?”

  “Sure. But why?”

  He shrugged. “Because the two people who combined to make you are of interest to me.”

  Hiding her smile, she slid from the bed and padded, naked, across to the little lock box. “I remember this from my childhood,” she said absent-mindedly, as she slipped the key into the lock and turned it. With wonderment, she lifted up a tiny dreamcatcher. “Dad brought this back from the Windies one year.” She lifted it closer to her face and examined the intricate patterns made from the thread. “I loved it as a child.” She turned to face Luca. “I guess he stored it away when I went to school.”

  She smiled shyly and replaced the dream catcher. In exchange, she lifted a couple of old photographs from the box and moved back to the bed.

  Luca watched, his expression intentionally blank, as she lifted herself back onto the mattress and sat beside him. “Here.” She pushed the photographs out. “That’s my dad. And my mum.”

  He took the photos without looking at them. His eyes were trained on Rosie’s face; her pride, her sadness, her beauty. With a heavy feeling of loss, he looked down at the picture. It was an instant confirmation that Bertram Darling had, indeed, been the owner of the company he’d bought. He was younger, in this photograph, with a more robust hairline, but his smile was unmistakable.

  His eyes shifted to the woman. “You are so like your mother.” He lifted his eyes to Rosie in time to see her features arrange themselves into an expression of distaste.

  “I’m nothing like her.”

  “You are her spitting image, Rosie. Why does that offend you?”

  Rosie stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He carefully placed the photographs down and reached out for Rosie’s hand. He lifted her fingers and laced them through his. “Why do you dislike her so intensely?”

  Her shrug was self-conscious. “I understand that she wanted to leave her marriage. That happens. But she left her child, too. She left us, and she made a new family for herself. She quit on me. I’ve had years to reflect on it, and try to make my peace with it, and I can’t.”

  Luca hated to see her pained. For that reason alone, he tried to ease her suffering. “Perhaps there was more to it than you
know.”

  “Why do you say that?” She asked instantly, her eyes wide.

  Again, indecision ran through him. What was right? What was important? Surely all that mattered was keeping Rosie in his life; making sure she never stopped looking at him as though he was the yin to her yang. The past was the past, and it deserved to remain buried. No good could come out of revealing their connection.

  He could not hint at a defence for the mother’s actions. To reveal that he’d met Bertram, and that he was intimately aware of the man’s predilection for gambling and whisky, would ruin everything. He pushed up to a sitting position and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his chest. “Because no one would leave you, Rosie Darling, unless they had no choice in the matter.”

  Such kindness was her undoing. A sob bubbled inside of her, but she suppressed it, at first. It was only a matter of time, though, before the sadness completely overtook her. She dipped her head forward and let the tears fall.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I think it’s all just hitting home. That I’m alone.”

  Luca nodded. He was known for his hardness, but the way Rosie made him feel was foreign and yet right. She softened him. She made him admit that he cared about something and someone. “I am alone, too.”

  “I know,” she agreed on a sob. “I know. I must sound so selfish. I had such an idyllic childhood, really. And even once dad lost the business, he still made sure my time at home was happy. He always encouraged me.” She took in a deep breath to steady her voice. “But I know he was never the same. I just wish that it had never happened. If he hadn’t lost the business, he wouldn’t have lost mum. And we would have been a family. Instead, he died alone and impoverished.”

  Luca struggled to keep his emotion from appearing on his face. “You don’t know that, cara.” He said, finally; and he could detect the hope in his voice, because he needed to not be the reason her life had fallen apart. “For your mother to have left him, perhaps there were other issues at play. Why do you not speak to her?”

  “I can’t.” She shook her head. “It would be a betrayal to my dad.” She shrugged her slender, bared shoulders. “I told him, around the time I graduated high school, that there were two people on earth I would not speak to until hell froze over. My mother, and the cold-hearted bastard who took the business from under dad’s nose. And I intend to keep my promise, Luca.”

  If Luca’s emotions could get any darker, then they would have. In business, he used his analytical skills to calculate the best method to turn a company’s fates around. He had no experience with employing the same skills in his personal life. Until he’d met Rosie, women had been good for one thing, and one thing only. He had been unashamed about enjoying a woman on a physical level, without needing anything further.

  “And your father?” He asked guardedly. “Did he also feel this way about the man who bought his business?”

  Her face was clouded by pained memory. “He only ever really spoke about it when he’d been… when he was tired.” She amended hastily. “But I’m sure he did. How could he not?” She frowned. “I was only nine, but I do know it hit him hard. Being forced to give up on a business he’d inherited.” Her sigh was heavy. “He worked so hard, Luca. He was always travelling for the company.”

  Luca nodded silently, but his mind was processing this information. She had obviously been going to say that Bertram only spoke about the business when he’d been drinking. As for his business trips, Luca suspected they focussed on casinos rather than actual meetings.

  “You were a child then, as you say. Perhaps you did not understand all of the negotiations.”

  She flicked her eyes to him. “Of course I did,” she muttered. “Don’t you get it? It practically killed him! He was never the same! I saw the man I loved become a shadow of his former self. He was like a ghost. Whoever bought dad’s business made his life a misery.”

  It took an enormous effort for Luca to appear disconnected from the importance of her words. “You have never found out who the purchaser was?”

  She eyed him with frustration. “You’re missing the point. I don’t actually care who bought it. I don’t intend to find the person and rant at them like a lunatic. Anyone who can take advantage of someone’s bad luck of back will undoubtedly be enjoying their own karmic misfortunes by now.”

  “But you are still so angry.” He said quietly, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

  “Not at one single person. At the whole big mess.” Her heart was racing in her chest, with sadness for her father, and the life he’d lost. “Why do you care anyway?”

  I’ve come to tell you I ruined your father’s life. And yours, too, I suppose. He shook his head. “I want you to be happy. And putting your energies into the past is not the way to achieve it.”

  Rosie knew she was halfway to being in love with Luca.

  She’d realised it days ago, and she knew it for damned certain now. But he was infuriating her, too. “You can talk! You’re about to fly to Italy to throw mud in the face of a man you have nothing to do with, simply because you are hung up on the past.”

  He froze. His skin paled beneath his caramel tan. “I am going to Italy to secure my birth right,” he countered, fighting the urge to remove his hand.

  She bit down on her lip. Everything in her soul bucked against hurting this man. “A birth right your parents chose to deny you,” she pointed out quietly. “A birth right you certainly don’t need.”

  “Financially, no. But they had no right to deny me it. And I deserve it. By blood I deserve it,” he countered quietly, his voice thick with steel.

  “Maybe so,” she nodded. “But you are also guilty of letting your past color your present, wouldn’t you agree?”

  He stared straight ahead, toward the window that had allowed the pesky Robin in only days earlier. “Since I first had money in my bank account, and discovered the truth of my parentage, I vowed to set things to right.”

  She lifted her chin proudly. “Just as I have vowed never to speak to my mother or the monster who more or less killed my dad by buying his business. I should have thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

  Luca released his hold on her shoulder and lay back against the fluffy pillows. Rosie watched him, and recognised the resolute set of his features. He was frustrated. He was determined. She sighed, pushing aside thoughts of her father and the sale of his company. Her more immediate concern was that Luca was going to embark on a quest that would ultimately bring him far more harm than he realised. “Do you not feel that it will be hard to get what you want in Rome, Luca?”

  Luca’s eyes were trained on the light above the bed. “I have no doubt in my abilities to take the company.”

  She waved her hand in the air as she turned around on her knees, to face him. “That’s not what I mean.” She put a hand on his chest and another on his cheek. “How do you know that buying this company will absolve you of your pain?”

  He dragged his eyes to her face. “I don’t. But he has to pay a price. There has to be some penalty.”

  Her green eyes glittered with perception. “So you want him to suffer just because you have been?”

  “Misery loves company. Isn’t that the expression?”

  Rosie leaned forward, and put a hand on his bare chest. “Are you miserable?”

  His smile was distracted. “No. Certainly not since meeting you.”

  “Then let it go.” She shook her head. “I’m worried you’re going to get hurt.”

  He grinned. “Not with you by my side.”

  “I’m serious!” She said hotly, tapping his stomach. “I really don’t think this is your best idea.”

  He breathed out a harsh puff of air. “I know,” he responded emphatically. “But I have to do it. If only just to get some answers. I want to know why they discarded me like trash. There is no justification, but I deserve to know.”

  Rosie’s voice was a gentle caress. “I am positive they had a good
reason.”

  When he turned his head to face her, his eyes were clouded with doubt. “Why do you say that, cara?”

  Rosie leaned forward slowly, her bright green eyes locked to “Because Luca,” she said, finally, when her mouth was poised only a hair’s breadth from his. “Don’t you realise?”

  “Realise what?”

  She smiled with all her soul and repeated his words right back to him. “No one would leave you, Luca Abramo, unless they had no choice in the matter.”

  Rome was so much more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. Of course, she’d seen photographs and movies. She’d read books, and she’d imagined. She’d seen friends’ photographs. She knew it was an ancient city, positively overflowing with history and character. She just hadn’t expected it to be a living, ancient city. More of a sentinel than a stone, Rome spoke to her and whispered its secrets with every street she traversed.

  “I had no idea,” she said with a sigh, as they walked, hand in hand, down a cobbled lane that led away from his Roman villa.

  “And you have hardly seen anything yet.” His jet had touched down only hours earlier. They’d barely had time to travel from the airport to his villa and explore the surrounding streets.

  “No, I can see that.” The street they walked down had sand colored buildings on either side. The vista of gold was only broken by the sight of bright red geraniums, tumbling higgledy piggledy from the wrought iron framed windows. “Did you grow up in Rome?”

  “No,” he shook his head. Rosie was used to the way his face became drawn when she asked about his childhood.

  “Where then?” She persisted. Though his expression was one of pure gloom, she was not afraid of him. Not even close.

  “Pescara. To the East.” A statement of pure fact, with none of the detail she craved.

  She pulled on his hand, and forced a bright smile to her face. “Come on, Luca. Don’t be so mysterious. Tell me about your life.”

  He squeezed her hand back, but did not smile. “My childhood is not worth discussing.”