Luca's Bad Girl

by Amy Andrews

  His first instinct had been to go to her. But he’d checked it. She needed to sleep. Just because she’d opened up to him, didn’t negate that they’d both been through a trauma and been up most of the night.

  So he’d headed for his bed too. And despite his conviction that his speeding mind wouldn’t allow him respite, the combination of the jet-lag and adrenaline had him out for the count within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

  But now he was awake. Wide awake. And he knew why. He knew why with every thud of fear still echoing in each heartbeat. He knew why he was dreaming about Mia. Why the overwhelming panic and despair at losing her—in the crash, in his dream—had woken him from deep and utter exhaustion.

  He was in love with her.

  He’d foolishly thought that they were just a casual thing. That they were having a bit of fun. Some great sex, a distracting flirtation.

  But obviously his brain hadn’t been listening.

  Because while his body had been enjoying itself he hadn’t realised his emotions had become involved. That their entire relationship had been based on a series of emotional connections—interlocking, weaving them together.

  Stan and the emotional tumult of his case—for both of them—had been the first connection. Being held at knifepoint had been the catalyst for their initial sexual liaison. Sure, he’d dismissed it as a very nice, very surprising turn of events. But it hadn’t been the uncomplicated one-off he’d been fooling himself it was.

  It had occurred after a highly charged emotional incident.

  And then later, when they’d worked together to save Stan’s life, they’d forged an even deeper bond.

  His grandmother’s death had ramped it up a little more. Forced them to an even deeper level of emotional intimacy without him even knowing it. She’d been there to comfort him. To hold him. To tell him to get his butt on a plane and go to her funeral.

  That had been more than just sex, no matter what she’d said.

  For heaven’s sake, she’d stayed the night. She never stayed the night. She didn’t even cuddle.

  And then there was last night. Sharing that near-death experience and then opening up to her, like he’d never done before. Unburdening all the ugly things about his past he never spoke about. Listening to her as she’d unburdened hers.

  He’d been pretending it was casual. Having a great time with hard and fast sex, indulging in the physical to override anything deeper. But somewhere along the way it had become more than that.

  For him anyway.

  He loved her. And it didn’t frighten him. He didn’t want to run from it like he had in the past. Maybe returning to Sicily had laid some ghosts to rest. Maybe it was almost dying in that helicopter crash. Maybe it was Mia almost dying in that helicopter crash.

  But he wanted to live. He wanted that grand love poets had written about. And he wanted it with Mia. His scarred, scared Mia.

  He didn’t want to live another day without it.

  Mia woke to a terrible racket. She’d been so tired when Evie had finally dragged her home and pushed her into the shower, not even thoughts of Luca had been enough to keep her awake as she’d collapsed naked into bed.

  It took her a moment to realise the racket was coming from the front door. ‘Go away,’ she groaned as she dragged the pillow over her head and shut her eyes again.

  ‘Mia? Mia! Open up!’

  Mia sat up as the voice registered. Luca?

  ‘Mia!’

  Luca’s urgent tone penetrated the fog of fatigue. She was throwing back the covers and pulling on a robe before her sluggish brain even registered her purpose.

  ‘Mia!’

  ‘Coming!’ she called as she hurried out of her bedroom, tying the robe firmly at her waist, half tripping over a discarded shoe on the way.

  Why on earth was he pounding her door down? Her heart rat-a-tat-tatted in time to the knocks as it romanticised his presence. But she doubted he was knocking like a madman to tell her he loved her. More likely the building was on fire.

  Which made her unaccountably grouchy.

  She reached the door and snatched it open. Her breath caught in her throat. He stood before her in track pants and a hoodie, his feet stuffed into thongs, his hair rumpled, that stubble still peppering his jaw, a blanket mark reddening one cheekbone.

  The man had never looked sexier.

  ‘Where’s the fire?’ she snapped, because it was that or do something really silly like invite him into her bed.

  She’d meant it when she’d told him they couldn’t keep sleeping with each other. She couldn’t love him and only have some of him. Know that he was waiting for the whole thing to go toxic.

  Luca took in her tousled blonde hair and the outline of her breasts beneath her gown and smiled. ‘You look good,’ he murmured appreciatively.

  Mia gripped the door at the lust she saw glittering in the deep brown depths of his eyes. ‘I sure hope you didn’t wake me for that.’

  Luca smiled. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Luca,’ she sighed. She was not going to be sucked in by that sexy smile.

  ‘Please.’ He spread his hands. ‘Just for a moment.’

  Mia almost shut the door on him. She was tired and at a really low ebb. Didn’t he know she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with him and sleep for a hundred years?

  Why didn’t he just leave her alone?

  Hoping she wouldn’t regret it, she stood back and inhaled as he passed. She hadn’t meant to but he smelled so good she let his aroma wrap around her like a warm cloak. She stood by the closed door, arms folded, as he strolled to the centre of her lounge room.

  Luca turned to face her. She seemed remote. Both physically and emotionally.

  That didn’t bode well.

  He took a step towards her. ‘I figured out why I told you all that stuff last night.’

  Mia regarded him warily. She hoped he hadn’t figured out why she’d told him her stuff. The only way she could keep her dignity here was to hide her feelings. ‘Really?’

  He took another step. ‘I’ve known somewhere deep inside for a while that you understood me, truly understood me, and I thought that it was just our family issues, our unhappy pasts uniting us in a way that few people could relate to.’

  Mia nodded. She’d recognised him as a kindred spirit almost from the beginning.

  ‘But it’s more than that, Mia. You got under my skin, sneaked up on me when I wasn’t looking. I was fooling myself that we were just keeping it casual but I was wrong.’ He raked a hand through his already rumpled hair. ‘I’ve been walking blindly down this track towards you all along and it’s only now that I see what’s really happening.’

  Mia’s heart started to thump erratically in her chest. What was he saying? That his toxicity sensors were twitching madly? That he was getting too close and it was time to get as far away as possible? ‘Oh? And what’s that?’

  ‘I’m in love with you.’

  Mia didn’t say anything for a moment. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. In fact, she was pretty certain her heart even stopped for a few beats.

  ‘Mia?’

  ‘What about Marissa?’ she blurted out, because that was way simpler than the crash of other thoughts and emotions that were churning inside her.

  ‘Marissa?’

  ‘You said she was the only woman you ever loved.’

  Luca frowned. ‘I was sixteen. And infatuated. That wasn’t love. I knew that the moment I saw her in the church in Palermo last week. I was a boy with a crush. What I feel for you … in here …’ Luca patted his chest. ‘It’s a thousand times deeper, wider, stronger. You’re the one I want to talk to, make love to, wake up to.’

  Luca watched her face as she grappled with the news. She looked like she was fighting it. Trying to come up with ways to block it out. Block him out. He covered the distance between them until he was standing within touching distance.

  ‘I know that you think you can’t do this—have a relati
onship with someone. That it’s not you. That you’re not the sleeping-over type …’

  ‘Me?’ Mia scoffed, arms still firmly crossed. ‘What about you? Aren’t you afraid this will go toxic too? Because I’m not going to get involved with someone who’s waiting for me to slip up or who’s out the door at the first sign of trouble wearing a gas mask.’

  Luca, buoyed by the concession that she might actually be thinking of getting involved with him, placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed his thumbs against the polar fleece of the thick robe.

  ‘I’m not saying that this doesn’t scare me, that it’s not new territory, but as you said last night I can’t let an unhappy past, one that I can’t change, ruin a chance at a happy future. Neither of us can, Mia.’

  Mia felt tears well in her eyes. This couldn’t possibly be true, could it? Could he actually love her back?

  ‘Oh, Mia,’ he murmured, drawing her against him. ‘Don’t cry, Mia. I love you.’

  Mia shut her eyes tight as his accent washed over her like syrup and she allowed herself a moment to inhale the essence of him. Less than two months ago she hadn’t even known this man. Just last night she’d realised the utter depth of her feelings for him. And realised he couldn’t love her back.

  Could she have been wrong?

  ‘This is just the near-death experience talking.’

  She tried to break out of his grasp but Luca held her tighter. Her voice was muffled against his shirt but he heard every word.

  ‘No, Mia, no.’ He eased her gently back. ‘It may have been the jolt that removed the blinkers from my eyes, but this isn’t sudden. I’ve known deep inside, deep in my heart since that night in the on-call room, that you were special. That you were more than just another woman.’

  The sincerity in his eyes and in his husky accented voice called to her on a primal level. She laid her head back on his chest as she allowed the possibilities to bloom. ‘I thought we were going to die last night and that I’d never get the chance to love you.’

  Luca hugged her close as her words sang like an opera in his heart. ‘You love me,’ he said.

  He’d hoped, he’d wondered, he’d wished. But to hear her say the words meant more than his next breath.

  ‘I didn’t want to,’ Mia murmured.

  Luca chuckled as he stroked her hair. ‘Well, it’s just as well we don’t always get what we want.’

  ‘Oh, Luca.’ She pulled back and looked into his eyes, oozing love and joy. ‘I love you so much, I couldn’t bear anything to happen to us.’

  Luca placed a finger across her mouth, shushing her, knowing what she was thinking. ‘I’m not your father, Mia. And you are not Marissa. We’re us and we won’t make the same mistakes.’

  And then he lowered his head and drifted the sweetest, softest kiss across her mouth she’d ever experienced. Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed.

  ‘Promise?’ she murmured against his lips.

  Luca chuckled. ‘Promise.’

  EPILOGUE

  TWO weeks later a limousine carrying Luca in a tuxedo and a glamorously dressed but blindfolded Mia glided to a halt outside the Sydney Opera House.

  ‘We’re here,’ Luca announced.

  Mia laughed. ‘Luca, for the last time, where are we going?’

  ‘Patience,’ he teased, kissing her nose. ‘Patience. Although we could just drive around in the back all night …’ he dropped a kiss behind her ear ‘… and christen the seats …’ His lips nuzzled her neck.

  Mia laughed and pushed him away playfully. ‘Oh, no. No way.’

  The door opened and Luca grinned at the chauffeur. ‘Okay, then, let’s go.’ He helped Mia out and once she was standing steadily he removed her blindfold.

  Mia blinked as the illuminated sails of the Opera House filled her vision. She smiled at him. ‘We’re going to see a show?’

  Luca smiled down at the woman he loved. ‘The ballet, actually.’

  Mia looked at the tickets he thrust into her hands. She read the fancy printing several times before it registered. She looked up at him, the man she loved, so tall and handsome and so, so hers.

  ‘Swan Lake,’ she whispered, hugging the tickets close. ‘Oh, Luca … thank you.’

  Mia beamed up at her Italian angel. She wasn’t sure when she’d stopped seeing the devil but tonight all she could see was a pair of luminescent wings and a bright golden halo.

  And he was all hers.

  * * *

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  First published in Great Britain 2012

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.

  Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House,

  18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  © Harlequin Books S.A. 2012

  Special thanks and acknowledgement are given to Alison Ahearn for her contribution to the Sydney Harbour Hospital series

  ISBN: 978-1-408-97572-5