by Kira Archer
They entered the house and stood in the entryway. Luca turned to Joseph. “Make sure everything is locked up, and set the alarm.”
“Of course, sir. Kaliníhta, Miss Constance.”
“Good night, Joseph,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Luca took her hand.
“Luca,” she said, dragging her feet a little as he towed her down a hallway to a closed door.
“It’s late. I’m tired. We’re going to bed.”
She tried to yank her hand from his. He held firm, but he did glance over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in question.
“Something wrong?”
Protesting that she didn’t want to go to bed would be both futile and a lie. She was exhausted. Nothing sounded better than curling up in bed and falling asleep. The problem was he’d be in the same room. Sometimes just being in the same town seemed too close to be to him. The thought of it made her body tremble and her mind race with fantasies that made her blush, and burn. If she survived the next few weeks, it would be a freaking miracle.
“No,” she finally muttered.
“Good.” The smug smile he gave her left her with no doubt he knew exactly what her issue was, and it amused him.
Well, that wouldn’t do. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and marched straight into his bedroom where she came to a complete, dead stop.
His master suite was almost bigger than her entire house. But the bed is what really drew her attention. She didn’t know how big the dang thing was, but it was definitely larger than a king. Theoretically, this was a good thing. They could probably share it with no problem. In fact, if she lay near the edge on her side, and he lay near his, they could probably put another person between them, lying sideways. Plenty of space to avoid each other. Somehow, she didn’t think it mattered how large the bed was. If Luca was in it, they would be too close. Thank God she was sleeping on the couch.
She realized he was watching her, his amused smile growing larger by the second. She tore her gaze from the bed and looked around for her things.
“Your luggage has been unpacked. Everything is in the closet here.”
He led her to a closet that could have easily been a spare bedroom. One section of it now held her things. A small tinge of embarrassment settled over her at the thought of someone handling her things, especially her underthings.
“The bathroom is this way,” he said, leading her to another large space.
The blue and yellow tiles of the bathroom reminded her of home. But that was as far as the similarities went. A massive tub, easily large enough for two, or four, filled one corner. A shower with more jets than she’d ever seen before filled another. It was large enough for a group and for everyone to have their own showerhead. The image of Luca standing under those steaming jets was a nice image indeed, but not one she should be dwelling on.
Her toiletry case had been set near one of the sinks and she went over to make sure everything had made it. Luca’s steps coming up behind her echoed on the tiled floor but she didn’t look up until his warm breath tickled her neck. Their eyes met in the mirror.
“Do you have everything you need?”
His gaze burned into hers and it took a second for her to gather her wits and nod.
“Good. You can have your turn in here first. I need to go over a few things with Joe anyway.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
He nodded but didn’t move, just kept staring at her in the mirror. His eyes roamed over her figure and the look in them when they met hers again was enough to make her catch her breath.
He stepped closer, lightly wrapping his hands around her upper arms, keeping his gaze locked with hers until the last second. She held her breath, not sure what he was going to do. Not sure what she wanted him to do.
He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and then released her.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
She nodded and watched him walk out the door, her heart hammering. As soon as he disappeared she slumped against the counter. Good gracious, that man would be her downfall.
She yelped when he stuck his head back in the door.
“By the way, I sleep on the left, in case you get cold and want to crawl in with me,” he said with a huge grin, before disappearing again.
Despite the fact her nervous system was about to have a meltdown, an answering smile spread across her lips. His head appeared around the doorframe again.
“I also sleep in the nude.”
Her mouth dropped open and he ducked back out, the bathroom ringing with his laughter.
Chapter Nine
Luca wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be offended. After Constance had nearly fainted from his declaration he’d be going to bed in nothing but the skin God had given him, she’d taken her pajamas into the bathroom, and then wouldn’t come back out again until he’d turned out the lights, which he’d finally done in the interest of getting some sleep.
She headed straight for the couch, stopping short when she saw him stretched out on the overstuffed monstrosity.
“You can have the bed,” he said.
“That’s nice of you, but I’ll be fine on the couch.”
He shrugged. “But I’m already tucked in. Besides, you’re my guest. You can have the bed.”
She didn’t say anything for a second or move to get into the bed and he sighed.
“Constance, just get in the bed. Let me be chivalrous for once. I assure you, it’s not something that happens every day.”
He heard a faint snort but she at least decided to take him up on his offer, darting out of the shadows of the room. She didn’t exactly run to the bed, but she didn’t take her time, either. He’d seen a brief flash of skin in the moonlight shining in from the window, but as she’d promptly pulled the covers up to her chin, he couldn’t tell what she was wearing.
“I want you to know I find it highly inappropriate for you to be…you know…”
“Naked?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He shrugged, not bothering to make sure the sheet stayed in place at his waist. “I doubt you’ll believe me, but I’m not doing this for your benefit. It’s more comfortable to sleep this way. Though I’m always hopeful I can entice you out of that frigid little shell of yours.”
“I’m not frigid!”
“If you say so.”
She huffed and he laughed. “We’re engaged, Stanzia. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the company of your own fiancé.”
“There’s plenty wrong with it.”
“Like what?”
“We barely know each other.”
“So?” He pushed himself up so he was half sitting, half reclining against the arm of the couch. “We’ve got an amazing connection between us. I know you’ve felt it, so don’t even try and deny it. If it’s that good with just a little kiss, imagine how much better it could be.”
The bright moon illuminated the room, showing her lying rigid in the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, the sheets tucked around her and pulled up to her chin. Oh, how he’d love to see her lose control. Be the reason she loses control. Just once.
“Our engagement isn’t real.”
“Says who? I asked, you said yes, I gave you a ring, we announced it to the world. How is that not real?”
“Seriously?” She sat up against the pillows to glare at him. “You did not ask me to marry you; you blackmailed me into an engagement. You gave me a ring but without the intent behind it, it’s just a piece of jewelry. And the same goes for the engagement. If we have no real intention of marrying, then it’s not real.”
“Well, regardless, I see no reason two mature, consenting adults can’t take advantage of a sticky situation. No harm in it.”
“There’s a lot of harm in it.”
“I don’t see why.”
She started to smile but bit her lip before it came to anything. “If you can’t figure it out on your own, I’m not goi
ng to explain it to you.”
Uh-huh. Classic woman response when they didn’t really have an answer but were determined to win, or start, an argument.
“Well, you’re going to have to put up with it. This is how I prefer to sleep and I’m not going to change it because there happens to be a beautiful woman in my bed. It would be more natural if you were to join me. It’s almost criminal for you to cover that beautiful skin of yours.”
He was only partially joking with her. His desire to see her naked, feel her skin against his, was so great his body throbbed with the need of her. She either felt the same way or was picking up on the vibes he was throwing out. Her eyes widened and he let the sheet drift lower over his hips. She scooted farther down beneath the covers.
“You keep scooting down like that and you’re going to fall off the end of the bed. I’m not going to bite you, you know. Unless you want me to.”
A quick intake of breath was hastily turned into a cough and Luca grinned into the darkness.
“Do you have to turn everything into a joke or sexual innuendo?” she asked.
“I don’t have to, but it does make life a little more fun,” he said with a laugh.
Her fight to keep a giggle in ended in a snort. She cleared her throat. “If you say so.”
“I say so.”
She finally gave in and chuckled. “Go to sleep, Luca.”
She tucked the blankets more firmly about her and turned on her side away from him, huddled as far on the opposite side of the bed as she could get. Like that would stop him if he were really determined. Lucky for her, he had no interest in trying to seduce a woman who was clearly trying to talk herself into not wanting him…well, that wasn’t really true. He had a lot of interest, but even he had some standards. He may have blackmailed her into a fake engagement, and he may enjoy teasing her now that she was in his bed, even if he wasn’t in there with her, but he wasn’t going to take advantage of her, unless she wanted him to. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun.
He wrapped his sheet around his waist and stood up. “Don’t freak out. I’m just coming over for another pillow,” he said.
One hit him in the face before he made it to the bed. He laughed and grasped the blankets, giving them a firm tug. She’d wrapped herself so tightly in them that she rolled toward him with a yelp.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she said, slapping the blankets out of his hand.
“What are you wearing under there?”
“What?” she half gasped, half laughed.
“You jumped in bed so quickly I couldn’t see what you’re wearing. It’s really something I should know.”
“I can’t see why,” she said, trying to squirm back over to her side.
He was having none of that. He kept the blankets firmly fisted in his hand. She was either going to have to stay put or leave the shelter of the covers.
“Because we are supposed to be engaged. We’re supposedly sharing a bed. What if someone asks? It would be extremely embarrassing if I didn’t know what my own fiancée wore to bed.”
“No one is going to ask that!”
He shrugged. “You never know. I’ve been asked more intrusive things.”
“Really?”
“You have no idea.”
She stopped struggling, turning toward him with reluctant interest. “Like what?”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m curious. Besides, you’re my fiancé. Won’t people expect me to know about your past?”
Throwing his own words back at him. Nice touch. He sat down and scooted up to lean back against the headboard. “People probably expect you already know. Everything I’m thinking of has already been in the papers. You’d be amazed at what reporters try to get answers to.”
“I can imagine, and you just proved my point,” she said with a triumphant smile. “If everyone else already knows then it can’t hurt to tell me and it could hurt not to tell me, since I’ll be the only one in the dark.”
“Google interviews with me. I’m sure they’ll pop up.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of afraid of what else might pop up if I Google you.”
Luca leaned closer. “Seeing as how you’re lying in bed with me, I’d think you’d be more interested in what might pop—”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
He chuckled. “You’re no fun.”
That strangled sounding, hastily cut off laughter escaped from her again. “That’s right. I’m not. So why don’t you save me the trouble and tell me everything now?”
“I could, but then I’m not in the habit of giving away valuable information for nothing.”
“I’d hardly call this information valuable.”
He shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted to know.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to stare him down. She blinked first and a childish thrill of victory ran through him.
“Okay, what are your terms?” she finally asked.
Oh, he knew what he’d like to ask for. A modified version of strip Truth or Dare would be fun, but she’d never go for that. Maybe something similar but not quite as “daring” would fly?
“For every episode of inappropriate intrusiveness I tell you, you have to drop the blankets a few inches.”
“What?” She gasped, but she exaggerated it. They both knew she wasn’t all that surprised.
“I want to see what you’re wearing, you want to hear my stories. Fair’s fair.”
One eyebrow rose. “Your obsession with my pajamas really isn’t healthy.”
“I’m aware of this. I still want to know.”
She gave him a wry smile and shrugged. “If that’s what you really want, deal.”
“Oh, I didn’t say that was what I really wanted, but I knew you’d say no to that, so I asked for what I thought I could get.”
“And what do you really want?” she asked, leaning in just a hair.
His heart rate jumped a notch and all things south of the border perked up. He willed himself back under control. She was playing with him and every part of him seemed to understand that but his dick.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” he asked, his voice gone deep and husky.
Her breathing sped up and she shook her head. “I’m sure I can guess.”
“I’m sure you can, too, but since you refuse to go there, I guess we’re stuck with the…safer arrangement. Agreed?”
She only hesitated a moment before nodding. “Agreed. So, tell me a story, and it better be good.”
He laid back and put his hands behind his head. “Hmm, let’s see. Okay, here’s one. I once had a female reporter ask me how many times I could make a woman orgasm in one night.”
“What? No way. What was the interview for? Playgirl?”
He snorted. “No. I would have expected questions like that in that case. I was doing a PR piece for the firm. My father had just purchased a large tract of land that had some significant historical finds on it.”
Constance frowned. “What possible excuse could she have for asking you a question like that then?”
“I think she was asking for personal reasons.”
That eyebrow of hers rose again. “I…I’m not even going to touch that. Okay, one point for you. Definitely an insanely inappropriate question.”
“Good. Now, drop them.”
Her eyes narrowed at him but the blankets dropped a few inches, baring her shoulders to the moonlight. Nothing covered them but a pair of thin, white camisole straps against her pale skin. He bit his lip, staring at the creamy expanse of her shoulders, at her collarbone, and the sexy little hollow at the base of her throat.
The longer he stared, the more she glared. “They’re just shoulders. Everyone has them. They really aren’t that interesting.”
“So you say.” He trailed a finger across the gentle slope of the one nearest him and she trembled under his touch, but she didn’t move away. “You have exquis
ite shoulders, the kind that should be painted. Sculpted. Immortalized for all time. Anyone who tells you they aren’t worth staring at is lying. Or blind.”
Her mouth dropped open a little but he wasn’t going to give her the time to refute him. “I must see more. So another invasive moment. Hmm. Okay, I’ve got one. Actually, the question wasn’t asked of me but asked of a friend of mine about me. Does that count?”
Her face puckered in that disapproving nanny way she had about her, but she nodded. “I’ll allow it.”
“A reporter once asked a girlfriend of mine how I measured up compared to other men she’d been with.”
“No,” she said with a little giggle.
“Yes. Thankfully, I surpassed the others with flying colors, so to speak. So, he offered her a hundred thousand dollars if she’d provide photographic evidence.”
“Oh my God. She refused, of course.”
Luca shook his head. “Nope. Sold me out less than twenty-four hours later. There I was thinking she wanted to spice things up a little and the next thing I know my penis is front-page news. Well, not front page…wouldn’t want to scare the kiddies.” He winked and laughed it off despite the fact that had been one of the most humiliating episodes of his life, not that he didn’t think his favorite body part was spectacular, because it was, of course. But it had certainly taught him a valuable lesson in whom to trust.
“That’s horrible,” Constance said, the sympathy in her voice only making the uncomfortable knot in his gut tighten.
He tried to shrug it off. “Can’t really blame her. It was a lot of money.”
“Yes but—”
“I believe that’s earned me more than a couple inches,” he said, interrupting her. He didn’t want sympathy from her. It was over and done with. He’d learned his lesson, moved on. He’d much rather focus his attention on the gorgeous woman currently in his bed, not some miserable ghost from his past.
He thought Constance might argue, but instead she lowered the blanket to her waist. He caught his breath and took her in. The thin silk of the camisole did nothing to hide the fullness of her breasts. If anything, the material accentuated the firm mounds that lay beneath it. Her nipples puckered, pressing against the thin fabric, and he had to twist his hands into the sheets to keep from reaching out to touch them.
