Her rapid breathing told of impending climax. But rather than finishing the job with his mouth, he raised up, hooking the backs of her knees with his arms and pulling her to the edge even as he thrust deeply into her.
“Yes, yes, Luca…please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
His flesh pounded against hers as his thrusts increased in depth and frequency.
Sweat covered his brow as he watched her reach her hands across the counter for something with which to brace herself. But there was nothing. And that was the way he wanted it. Because whenever he was around her, he lost his bearings. He no longer knew which way was up or where he was going or what he’d been thinking about the moment before she walked into the room.
And, damn, he wanted…needed her to feel the same. If only for this one moment.
Gia cried out.
Lucas thrust into her twice more and then withdrew, spilling evidence of his own crisis on her thigh instead of inside her.
* * *
Gia lay against the cool counter, feeling oddly exposed beyond her own nudeness, her womb contracting, her breathing out of control. Yet despite all the signs of physical satisfaction, she felt strangely bereft. Disappointed.
It was a sensation she hadn’t experienced for a long, long time. In fact, not since the last time she and Luca had had sex.
The realization was jarring.
And no less humiliating.
“Well,” she said quietly as he stepped back away from her and began putting on his pants. “Seems like some things never change.”
She’d forgotten about his penchant for withdrawing right before he reached orgasm. She’d been on the Pill at the time and had told him that, but still he’d withdrawn, spilling his seed over her stomach rather than inside her.
It had left her feeling betrayed and hurt.
And she felt no differently now. Especially since the method, or any contraceptive method, wasn’t one hundred percent effective.
Luca looked at her, as if not understanding the sarcasm behind her words.
Gia didn’t care if he understood or not. She scooted from the counter and picked up her own clothes, jerking on her turtleneck first because it would give her the greatest amount of coverage.
Her rational side pointed out that it was a good thing he’d withdrawn. Because now she wasn’t on oral or other contraceptives and honestly hadn’t even considered the risk of pregnancy when things began getting hot and heavy between them.
But her heart wouldn’t hear it.
Because she knew that the last thing he wanted was her to be pregnant with his child.
Luca finished dressing and went to the refrigerator. “How about I make us some eggs?”
Gia pulled on her slacks and put her shoes back on. “How about you find the front door?”
He turned and stared at her, as if unaware he still held the refrigerator door open.
She struggled to do up the fastener on her pants. “Don’t look at me that way.”
“What way?”
“Like you don’t have a clue what just happened.”
He blinked at the refrigerator door and closed it before stepping closer to her.
Gia held her hand up to ward him off. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve been stupid enough for one night.”
For one lifetime, it seemed, when it came to Luca Paretti.
Emotions roiled within her. Feelings she didn’t know what to do with. Sadness, fear…the rekindling of a love long lost.
The knowledge that tonight she had tried to claw at that same love, to try to recapture how it had once felt to love Luca and have him love her, made her stomach drop to her feet.
“Gia…”
“No, please. Don’t,” she whispered, suddenly aware that her cheeks were damp.
She picked up the papers from the counter and left the room—and Luca—behind.
* * *
“I’d recommend immediate action on this, Gia. The sooner the better.”
Gia sat across from her uncle Vito on the couch in her father’s office, the morning sun slanting in through the French windows oddly cheerful in light of what he’d just shared with her.
She faced him more fully. Ever since having had sex with Luca on the kitchen counter two nights ago, she’d had trouble concentrating on anything other than where he might be in the house and what he might be doing. A part of her wanted to track him down and order him out.
Another, more traitorous part of her wanted to have sex with him again and force him to climax while inside of her, damn the consequences.
And now Vito was telling her that there were some risky decisions to be made and that she needed to make them.
“How’s Lorenzo?” he asked when she didn’t immediately respond.
Her hand froze. He knew how her brother was. The nurses told her that Vito went up to visit him twice a day. While it was reported that he was responding more in his new environs—she’d had them put him in their mother’s sun-filled old bedroom that was still decorated in pink and white—it wasn’t a happy response.
He wanted to be moved back to his room.
But since he had yet to start therapy, his spinal injury guaranteed that he couldn’t make the move on his own.
And Gia refused to have him moved again.
Damn it, if she had to force him to wake up, so be it. Neither one of them might like it, but she strongly believed it was for the best. She refused to stand back and watch him destroy himself anymore. Beyond the fact that he’d refused to start therapy and thus risked more surgery as his muscles atrophied, he’d lost a great deal of weight, barely taking in more than the drugs the doctor prescribed along with the water required to swallow them.
She had an appointment to meet with the doctor that afternoon to discuss her brother’s medications. Her next step was to do away with them all. At this point she knew he was addicted and was dreading seeing him go though withdrawal on top of everything else.
“I have some ideas that I hope will get him moving,” she said carefully.
While family was family, she found she didn’t like discussing her brother’s condition with anyone, save his nurses and doctor. She wanted to protect him until she could figure out what to do. He was the only family she had left.
“Look, Vito, do what you think is best in regards to Joey and Gino Guarino. I trust you implicitly.”
“Good. I’ve made an appointment for you to meet with them both this morning.”
Chapter 8
Lucas idly watched the scheduled morning sweep for listening devices go through the mansion. Slightly agitated, he raked his fingers through his hair and turned his attention to the closed door to Gia’s office. Vito had gone in a little while ago and he had yet to see Gia. He assumed she was already inside.
Hell, he didn’t have a clue why she’d gone cold on him after their kitchen encounter. He’d lain awake all that night thinking about it. She’d reached orgasm, of that he was sure.
Then why the cold shoulder directly afterward? Morning-after regret?
But no. It appeared that something he’d done or said had been responsible for her change in behavior. But, God help him, he couldn’t figure out what it was.
Or why it was bothering him so much.
Mentally considering the list of items he hoped to discuss with Gia and Vito this morning, he went into the kitchen, greeted the cook, then poured himself a cup of coffee at the counter. The same counter that Gia had been magnificently spilled over two nights ago. Like a glorious meal begging to be eaten.
Damn it all, but his intentions that night hadn’t been only to fulfill some sort of short-lived physical need. And sure, he’d accomplished that, but he’d also hoped that by coaxing Gia to let down her guard, she’d also open back up to him emotionally.
He grimaced, recognizing the egomaniacal slant to his thoughts. What was he? Some sort of sex God that turned mere mortal women into lifelong slaves after one night together?
What ha
d made him think that sex—great, mind-blowing sex—would change anything?
If anything, their brief fling had made things even worse.
“Oh, good morning, Mr. Paretti. I didn’t see you there.”
Lucas glanced up from a summons that had been served a half an hour ago to look at Frankie. He smiled at the kid. In so many ways he reminded him of his younger brother, Angelo. Almost painfully so. Beyond the same lanky physical similarities, the kid displayed the same obsessive desire to be included in the family.
An obsession that had been deadly for his brother.
“How’s it going, Frankie?” he said.
“It’s going great.”
Lucas nodded. “Miss Gia seems to have taken a liking to you.”
“Yeah,” the eighteen-year-old said with a grin. “Go figure.”
Lucas chuckled softly, reminding himself that just because things had turned out badly for Angelo, it didn’t mean that Frankie was doomed to the same fate.
Especially since he had skipped a few steps and was working directly for Gia now. One might argue that the closer he was to her, the more dangerous the situation. But not with Lucas involved. Right now the only safe spot on the entire estate was near Gia.
“What’s on tap for this morning?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet. I’m still waiting to go in. But I think she’ll probably send me into the city to pick up some sort of design book from Bona Dea. Her partner’s been calling every five minutes.”
Lucas had all but forgotten about Gia’s fashion business. Easy to do, seeing as she seemed to be concentrating more on family business than on design. But he’d come across an idle sketch or two mixed in with official papers, or sometimes scribbled in the margins of draft documents. So apparently she wasn’t as strictly focused on family issues as he thought.
The idea that there would come a time when she might leave Long Island for good and return to her normal life in Manhattan left him feeling empty.
Then again, it was said that once in the mob, always in the mob. Would it even be possible at this point for her to ever fully leave Long Island and the Venuto family?
And him? What happened when he achieved his own clandestine objectives? Since it would be impossible for him to conceal his identity once those he fingered on behalf of the FBI were brought to trial, he would never be free to roam any street in New York again. Including Manhattan, where Gia might hope to return to.
Lucas looked at his watch. Vito had been in Gia’s office for a while then. He knew Frankie was up bright and early to get his assignments for the day. And if he hadn’t spoken to Gia yet, that meant nobody but Vito had.
“Well, okay, I have a couple of things to do before I go in to see Miss Gia.
Have a nice day, Mr. Paretti,” Frankie said, waving.
“You, too, Frankie.”
He watched the kid leave the kitchen, taking in his gangly form, his loose-limbed gait. A sharp pang hit him in the side. The similarities to Angelo were so great that for a moment it was difficult to breathe.
He heard voices in the hall. He got up and headed in their direction, reaching the foyer just in time to watch Gia kiss Vito’s cheeks before the older man turned in the opposite direction and departed.
Gia caught Lucas’s gaze and froze, as if unsure how to react. Then she averted her eyes and went back inside her office, closing the door behind her.
Lucas glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one else wanted her immediate attention and then crossed to stand in front of the closed door. He knocked once and then let himself in.
* * *
Gia had known Luca would follow her. And, she reluctantly admitted, she’d hoped he would.
She turned to face him, just as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“Good morning,” he said quietly.
“What’s so good about it?”
Gia rounded her father’s desk and sat down heavily.
“Vito had bad news?”
“You tell me. You two seem to talk more than I do.”
“I haven’t a clue.”
She sighed and sat back in the chair. “I’m meeting with the Guarino brothers this morning.”
Luca’s brows rose slightly on his handsome forehead. “I thought Vito was handling all that.”
“So did I.”
Gia was surprised that she could discuss items of a professional nature with him so easily, when personally she didn’t know whether she wanted to allow herself to love him, or clutch desperately on to the indifference she’d cultivated over the years.
“It seems that Joey and Gino are insistent upon a meeting with me,” she said.
“And Vito didn’t think it was a good idea to refuse the meet.”
Lucas nodded as he took the visitor’s chair opposite her. “Do you know what you’re going to say to them?”
“Oh, I don’t know…I was thinking about something along the lines of, ‘either pay up or I’ll have someone break your kneecaps.’ But more original.”
“Why fix something that isn’t broken?”
She found herself smiling at him despite the black shadow that eclipsed her heart whenever she thought about what happened in the kitchen.
“Yeah, well, I think it’s better if I just play this one by ear without making any physical threats.” She fingered the letter opener she’d left out earlier, noting its sharp edges before putting it back in the drawer. “I was hoping to avoid just such confrontations during my brief stint.”
“But you’ve met with Tamburo and the other rival family heads. You didn’t avoid them.”
“Ah, but that was different. To them, I’m still Daddy’s little girl. Mostly they offered their condolences and talked about who was going to take over Dad’s interests. I thanked them for their concern and told them I’d think it over.”
Gia bit briefly on her bottom lip, reluctant to share the true emotion she’d seen displayed in the others’ faces. Especially Tamburo’s. When she’d finally dropped off to sleep last night, she’d dreamed of being covered in wet cement.
Cement that was being used to create the sidewalk to one of the Venuto family’s construction projects in Long Island City. A modern apartment building overlooking the East River with remarkable views of Manhattan to the west.
Of course, if her dream came true, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the view. She’d be dead.
She also knew that the coy feminine responses she had managed to make to Tamburo and the other heads would only buy her a limited amount of time. Before too long she expected them to start making bolder moves toward securing the Venuto family as their own. She absently fingered the fading bruises on her neck. If they hadn’t already.
But so long as she had power, she intended to use it to find her father’s killers.
And prayed that Lorenzo would snap out of it and take over before she got into any more trouble than she already had.
“Would you like me to be present for the meeting with the Guarino brothers?”
Luca asked.
Gia blinked at him. Only a couple of days before, he might have phrased the question differently. Something along the lines of, “I want to be present during the meeting.” To which she would have refused him outright.
But his quiet request now made her consider him more thoughtfully.
“Yes. Yes, I’d like that. Thanks.”
She met his eyes, seeing something in the deep blue depths that made her remember the better parts of the other night. Her heart contracted in her chest.
Another rapid knock on the door had barely sounded before it flung inward to reveal Frankie, who was out of breath and grinning. “Good morning, Miss Gia,” he said exuberantly.
Gia beamed at him, the boy’s enthusiasm brightening her dark morning. “Good morning, Frankie. How are you today?”
He looked from her to Lucas. “Should I come back?”
Gia got up and rounded the desk, leaning against the edge with her arms crossed
over her chest. “No, that’s all right. Lucas was just leaving.”
He rose to his feet, towering over her. She was close enough to smell his citrus aftershave. It made her mouth water with the desire to kiss him.
“I’ll see you at ten for the meeting, then,” she said to him.
He nodded, moving toward the door, where he grasped Frankie’s shoulder for a brief squeeze. “Don’t work too hard, kid. And try to stay out of trouble.”
“I will, Mr. Paretti.”
The almost parental affection Luca displayed made Gia’s heart ache even further as she watched him close the door.
* * *
Gia couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so uncomfortable. Joey and Gino weren’t only rude, they were outright confrontational. She hadn’t prepared herself for that.
While she knew that they were refusing to honor their debt to her father, she’d expected them to offer up an apology and try to make excuses as to why they weren’t paying.
Instead, Joey looked at her point-blank from across the office table and said, “We ain’t going to pay.”
It was a challenge. She knew that. A challenge to her as temporary head of the family.
A challenge to the integrity of the family.
“We don’t mean no disrespect, Gia,” Gino said, shrugging his meaty shoulders.
“But we don’t see how we still owe your father, you know, with his being dead and all.”
This was the first time she’d encountered anyone who had disrespected her and her father in the same sentence.
She stared down the man opposite her. Both he and Joey had been around for as long as she could remember. They’d been present at holiday dinners, baptisms, birthday parties and family barbecues. And they’d always looked the way they looked now, bearing a few unwanted pounds, their features droopy and fleshy, their suits having come from a secondhand store and probably worn for the past thirty years.
When she’d welcomed them into her home a little while before, she’d given them kisses on both cheeks and referred to them as “uncle.”
Not anymore.
“Don’t mean no disrespect?” Vito asked, incredulous. He’d surprised Gia when he’d shown up at the last minute to sit in on the meeting. “What do you call what you just said?”
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