by Kira Archer
He loomed over her, his rock-hard abs bunching as he positioned himself over her. Her heart pounded, her body already throbbing for him. She ran her hands over his chest, skimming across his stomach. He sucked his breath in with a hiss and threw his head back. The sight of him so affected by her touch sent a thrill rushing through her. Then he eased into her oh so slowly, retreating only to thrust back in, until he was sheathed inside her as far as he could go. The sensation of him inside her, stretching her to her limit, his rock-solid length caressing the deepest, softest parts of her, made her whimper and tremble.
She wanted to hold still, savor him, relish every thrust, burn the sensations into her memory so she’d never forget how amazing he felt, but the intensity building inside made it impossible. She bucked beneath him, trying to bring him deeper. She ached to touch him. Couldn’t get enough of him. His ass seemed made for her hands and she gripped him as she arched into him.
His low growl spurred her on and she rose to meet his thrusts, moving with him. The pleasure building was nothing that she’d ever experienced before. This wasn’t just sex. This wasn’t some quick fling. He was wrecking her, shattering her, branding her as his.
She tried to increase the tempo but he laughed, low and deep. His hands brushed down her hip and pinned her to the bed. “Hold still, baby. Just let yourself feel. ”
He leaned down to nip at her neck, breathe in her ear. “You’re already quivering around me. Come on, Stanzia.” He thrust into her again, his lips claiming hers, his tongue spearing into her mouth. “Come for me.”
Her nails dug into his back. With him holding her down she couldn’t move. It forced her to absorb the pleasure building to a crescendo inside her. Forced her to experience every torturous sensation as he slid in and out, keeping the same steady pace that would drive her to madness.
“Luca!” she gasped, the wave of ecstasy cresting.
He released her, braced himself with his hands on either side of her head, his mouth devouring hers, his tongue plundering. He thrust, hard and deep, his pace increasing until she came, screaming his name. His kiss muffled the sounds of her release as she shuddered and quaked around him.
“God, Stanzia,” he said, his body trembling above hers, his rhythm faltering until he came with a roar, pouring his pleasure into her.
He eased himself down and she reveled in his weight resting on her, their heaving breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in time with each other. After a moment he rolled to the side, pulling her with him. He cupped her face and drew her to him for a long, lingering kiss that seared her to her very soul.
It didn’t matter anymore what their arrangement was—he could walk away right then and it wouldn’t matter. Whatever their deal had been, whatever she’d planned, was no longer valid. She was his. Totally. Completely. And forever. The fact that he probably didn’t feel the same was something she’d need to deal with when the time came.
But for her, her entire world had changed, and she had no idea how she’d live in it once Luca was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
Luca took the remnants of the roll from Constance’s fingers and removed the plate with the rest of the desiccated bread from her grasp. Then he took her hands and kissed each one.
“Stop worrying. He’s the one who saw that picture of us and decided he liked you, remember? This should be easy.”
“Yes, but what if he’s changed his mind? We got engaged so quickly. He might think I’m just here for…for…”
“For my money? For a few nights in my bed?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Her breath left her in a gush that left her cheeks flaming red and Luca chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. “I sincerely hope the last one is true.”
“Luca,” she said, glancing around to make sure no one heard him.
“You have got to relax,” he said, with a little laugh.
“Easy for you to say. It’s not my father we’re about to meet.”
“We can do that next. Let’s get mine out of the way first.”
“You’d want to meet my dad?”
“The man who produced you? Of course. I wanted to meet him before, remember? Not so sure how he’d feel about me…”
Constance laughed. “As long as I’m happy, he’d be happy.”
“And are you? Happy?”
He found himself surprisingly anxious to hear the answer to that question. She gazed up into his eyes and opened her mouth to speak but never got the chance.
“Well, look at the happy couple,” his father said, staring down at them before taking a seat.
Luca sat back, all playfulness disappearing at his father’s disapproving, and unexpected, tone. “Father, I’d like you to meet Constance McMurty. Constance, my father, Augustine Vasilakis.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vasilakis. Luca has told me so much about you.”
“Has he? I’m afraid the only things I know about you I had to find out from my investigators.”
“Father,” Luca said, his tone as close to warning as he’d ever dared get with his father.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Augustine said, waving a finger between the two of them before unfolding and laying his napkin in his lap. “You want to make sure the photographers you’ve got clogging up the streets all get a good shot.”
Luca frowned, his anxiety turning to anger. “We were not putting on a show for anyone’s benefit. Theirs or yours.”
“Of course you were,” he said, not even bothering to look at Luca. He waved a server over, ordered a glass of wine and sat back to scrutinize them, his gaze lingering on Constance.
“So, you’re his fiancée at the moment, or so I’ve heard.”
Constance blanched and Luca’s anger burned hotter.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Constance said, her forehead creased with a small frown. “Have I done something to offend you?”
“No,” Luca said. “You haven’t.”
His father glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m capable of answering for myself, Luca.”
The waiter brought his wine but was waved away when he asked if they were ready to order.
“Now, to get back to the question of my offense. Of course I’m offended,” he said, but his gaze was on Luca. A small thing to be grateful for in what was apparently going to be a disaster of epic proportions, but if shit was about to get ugly, Luca preferred it fall on him, not Constance. His dad shook his head. “That you would think you could fool me into thinking you’ve changed by staging some sham wedding, complete with orphans for God’s sake, is not only offensive, it’s downright infuriating.”
“I don’t understand where your anger is coming from,” Luca said. “You were thrilled when photos first surfaced of us together. Your exact words, I believe, were, ‘Finally, a girl your mother would be proud to welcome to our home.’ Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I’ll admit I was thrilled initially to see you keeping company with someone of a little more substance, for once. But reconciling the son I knew becoming suddenly engaged to a woman with six children to care for was a little more difficult. If you were truly getting married, I wanted to know more about who you were bringing into the family, as any father would.
“My people did a little more digging and discovered that your Miss McMurty here had never once been seen in your presence or anywhere near anyone you associate with until the day those photos were taken. Yet almost immediately, you are engaged, and large donations have been made to the organization she is associated with. I have no idea how much you’re paying her on top of the money you’ve already shelled out, and frankly any woman who would agree to whatever deal you made is reprehensible. But if you think for one second you can bribe and lie your way into my good graces you are sorely mistaken.
“You’ve made some poor choices in your life, Luca, but even I thought you to be better than this. When will you ever learn that the only way to get ahead in life is to work for it? You can’t lie or buy your wa
y into success. You are never going to make anything of yourself this way. And to drag this young woman down into your deceptions with you, though I’m no longer sure considering the behavior I’ve seen who did the dragging, not to mention using a bunch of innocent children, is nothing short of shameful—”
“That is enough!” Constance slammed her napkin onto the table and Luca and Augustine both looked at her with what he was sure were twin expressions of shock. Mirrored by most of the people in the restaurant. The phones started coming out and Luca was sure within moments their little scene would be all over the internet. Ah well. No help for it. And frankly, the fact that she was defending him was something he was happy to share. No one had ever done such a thing for him before.
He had seen her irritated, even angry, but he’d never seen Constance in full-blown fury. She was magnificent with her flashing eyes and heated cheeks, her chest out and back straight, ready for battle. This might even be fun to watch, especially since it wasn’t aimed at him.
He’d listened to his father’s tirade with growing anger and a sinking heart, but while things between he and Constance had recently grown a great deal more complicated than he expected, his father wasn’t really wrong. How do you argue with that?
Constance was apparently going to try. She stood up, her whole body radiating fury.
“Mr. Vasilakis, I don’t know where you get your information, but I assure you nothing about my relationship with your son is false. Yes, it’s true that we’d only met that day of the first picture and, yes, we became engaged immediately after. It might have been a whirlwind and it might have been unexpected, for us as well as anyone else, but that does not make it any less real. He proposed, I said yes, he bought me a beautiful ring I will cherish for the rest of my life, and I’ve been sharing his home, and his bed, ever since.”
Luca tried not to look too surprised. She wasn’t lying, but she was gilding the truth a bit. He’d never have expected it from his oh-so-proper-Constance.
“To suggest that he has paid me to do any of this is incredibly offensive and you owe me an apology. And you owe your son one as well. Luca might be a bit impetuous and yes, at times he can be irresponsible and maybe even immature…”
Luca’s eyes narrowed, wondering where she was going with all that.
“But he is also good, and kind, and loving. He is amazing with my girls. They adore him. If you don’t believe that, come see it for yourself instead of sending your flunkies out to Google lies from the internet. Don’t you dare accuse him of wrongdoing or berate him like he is some misbehaving child. Luca is a wonderful, decent man who deserves a hell of a lot more credit than anyone ever gives him, and I will not sit by while you belittle and criticize him.”
Augustine stared in stunned silence at her and she seemed to realize what she’d just done. Her shoulders slumped a bit, the righteous indignation bleeding out of her bit by bit. She turned to Luca with wide, worried eyes.
He stood and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him so he could kiss her temple.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him.
“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s okay. You were incredible.”
She looked up at him and he gave her a gentle kiss, briefly resting his forehead against hers.
“Thank you,” he whispered, stroking her face. Then he turned to his father, keeping his arm firmly around her. “You may think whatever you like about me, Father. But Constance is off limits. Short of inviting you into our bedroom, there is no way for me to prove anything to you and I have no desire to try. I think we’ve listened to enough for one day.”
He slapped enough euros on the table to cover their bill and took Constance’s hand.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my fiancée home.”
His father stood as they left, but he didn’t say anything to call them back. If Luca wasn’t mistaken, and he could have been since he’d never seen anything like it before, there might have been a look of grudging respect and approval on his old man’s face.
Maybe miracles did happen.
They pushed through the doors of the restaurant and were met with a mob of flashing cameras. Constance buried her face against his chest and he wrapped his arm more firmly about her. Reporters started screaming questions at them.
What did you discuss with your father?
Are you fighting with your father?
What was the argument about?
Does he approve of your marriage?
How does he feel about your fiancée?
Things looked like they were getting heated in there. Care to comment?
Constance! Constance! How does it feel to have Luca’s father hate you?
Luca! Did he threaten to cut you off if you married Constance?
Your fans want to know! Do you have a message to share?
Yeah…he’d love to tell everyone to fuck off and get out of their faces, but he refrained. Barely.
Luca shoved through them, for once not worried about trying to make a good impression. Constance trembled under his arm. He needed to get her out of there. They made it to his car and he ushered her in, running around to get in the driver’s side. This time, he didn’t take it nice and slow so they could get their shots of the happy couple leaving. He revved the engine to serve as warning, lurched forward a foot or two to show he was serious, and then he applied foot to pedal and got them out of there.
They were followed, of course, but they couldn’t pass the gates of Luca’s estate. He ground to a halt as close to the door as he could get and hurried around to help Constance out of the car.
“I don’t feel so well,” she murmured.
Her face had gone pale as the white linen dress she wore. Luca wasn’t taking any chances. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside, ignoring the vultures screeching at them from the other side of the gate.
Chapter Sixteen
Constance sipped at the water Luca handed her and then put it down, taking a couple deep breaths.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I freaked out. I …I just need a break. I want all this to stop. Just for five minutes. Something.” Constance knew she was whining like a two-year-old but she couldn’t help it. If one more camera went off in her face, she was going to scream. How the hell did Luca deal with this every day of his life and not go completely insane?
He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest in a gesture so tender it made her heart twist. Sometimes, most times, he was a total ass, but there were moments like this where a different person seemed to peek out. She sank into him, letting him soothe her. His hands rubbed down her back, his lips moving against her hair as he mumbled in Greek to her, interspersed with kisses so sweet she wanted to cuddle against him and never move.
He tilted her face up so he could meet her gaze, smoothing her hair out of her face. “Omorfí koritsi mou,” he said, surprising her with the sweet term of endearment. His beautiful girl. It drew a smile from her and she pressed closer to him. He kissed her, his lips gentle, almost chaste.
“Come on,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “Let’s get out of here.”
Relief flooded through her. “Where are we going?”
“There’s a spot I know where they won’t find us.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. She had to jog a little to keep up with his long stride.
“What about the kids?”
Luca stopped and pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly firing off a text. He received a response a few seconds later and grabbed her hand again. “They are still at the beach with Joe and Mrs. Ballas. Joe’s getting ready to build a bonfire for s’mores. They have them covered for the night. Let’s go.”
They were in a part of the house she hadn’t been in before. Luca pushed open a door and flipped on the lights. They were in a garage, a fully stocked garage. Constance’s jaw dropped at the assortment of designer cars and motorcycles neatly lined up on the shining concrete surfa
ce of Luca’s custom garage. Each vehicle in there probably cost more than she made in a year. What in the world did he need with so many of them on this tiny island?
She gawked at each shiny new specimen, not really noticing where he was leading her until they came to a stop in front of a shiny black and chrome work of art—that Constance would get on over her dead body.
“That’s a motorcycle,” she said.
Luca’s eyebrow rose. “Very good.”
“You don’t expect me to ride on that thing?” She rode a moped, sure, but that was a little scooter. It was like a toddler’s tricycle compared to the massive piece of equipment in front of her.
He pulled a helmet out of a compartment in the back and handed it to her. “Yes, I do.”
He kicked a leg over the bike and sat down and somehow that small act made things tighten low and deep in her belly. What the hell was it about a motorcycle that made a man so freaking hot? Luca was insanely attractive to begin with, but sitting with that impressive hunk of machinery between his legs, his jeans taut over his thighs, his shirt doing nothing at all to hide the well-sculpted body it covered made her want to straddle him herself.
She swallowed hard and gripped the helmet in her hands. Luca put his on and held out a hand to her. “Come on, baby. Ride with me.”
She pulled the helmet on, feeling ridiculous with the heavy thing balanced on her head. He pulled her closer and helped her strap it on, then tugged on her hand again so she was forced to either slide onto the bike or jump across to the other side.
“Can’t we take a car?” she asked, her heart already pounding in her throat.
Luca shook his head. “This is faster and I can take it places I can’t take a car. We want to lose the vultures, not lead them to where we’re going.”
He pulled on her arms and wrapped them around his waist. “Just hold on tight. You’ll be fine.”
