Artie circled her wrist where his fingers had held her. A shiver shimmied down her spine as she recalled the tensile strength in his hand, the springy black masculine hairs that peppered his skin, the way his touch spoke to her flesh, awakening it, enlivening it, enticing it. He was temptation personified and she would be a fool indeed to allow her feelings to get the better of her. He had been clear about the terms of their relationship. Why, then, did she ache for more of his touch? Why, then, did she want to feel his mouth on hers again?
Artie sat in the main salon with her embroidery on her lap, when Luca came in. His hair looked tousled from the wind or the passage of his fingers or both. And he had changed out of his morning suit into jeans and a white cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his strong wrists and forearms. The white shirt highlighted his olive-toned tan, the blue jeans the muscled length of his legs. He brought in with him the fresh smell of outdoors and something else...something that made her female hormones sit up straighter and her senses to go on high alert.
She put the sampler she was working on to one side and crossed one leg over the other, working hard to keep her features neutral. ‘I wasn’t sure of your plans, so I got Rosa to make up one of the guest rooms for you. It’s on the second floor—the green suite overlooking the vineyard.’
His gaze held hers with a watchful intensity. ‘So, she knows our marriage is a hands-off affair?’
Artie moistened her lips, conscious of the slow crawl of heat in her cheeks. ‘Yes, well, I thought it best. I’m not the best actor when it comes to playing charades, and she’s known me a long time and would sense any hint of inauthenticity.’
‘I would prefer you not to tell anyone else about the terms of our relationship.’ His tone was firm. ‘I don’t want any idle gossip getting back to my grandfather.’
‘Rosa is the soul of discretion. She would never betray a confidence.’ It was the one thing Artie could rely on—the housekeeper was loyal and trustworthy to a fault. Rosa had never revealed Artie’s struggles to anyone and had always been as supportive as possible.
Luca came over to the sofa where she was sitting and leaned down and picked up the sampler she’d been working on. He ran his fingers over the tiny flower buds and leaves she had embroidered. ‘This is exquisite work. Have you been doing it long?’ he asked.
Artie shrugged off the compliment but inside she was glowing from his praise. No one apart from her father and Rosa had ever seen her work. ‘It’s just a hobby. I started doing embroidery after I got out of hospital. I’m self-taught, which you can probably tell.’
He turned the sampler over and inspected the other side, where the stitches were almost as neat and precise as on the front. ‘You undersell yourself, cara. You could start a small business doing this sort of thing. Bespoke embroidery. There’s a big swing away from factory-produced or sweatshop items. What people want these days is the personal touch.’
‘Yes, well, I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’ Artie took the sampler out of his hand and folded it and put it inside her embroidery basket, then closed the lid with a definitive movement.
‘What’s stopping you?’
I’m stopping me.
Her fear of the big, wide world outside the castello was stopping her from reaching her potential. She knew it but didn’t know how she could do anything to change it. How could she run a business locked away here? She met his probing gaze for a moment before looking away again. The thought of revealing her phobia to him made her blood run cold. What would he think of her? She had effectively married him under false pretences. ‘I’m happy leaving it as a hobby, that’s all. I don’t want to put myself under pressure of deadlines.’
‘Speaking of deadlines...’ Luca rubbed a hand down his face, the raspy sound of his palm against his light stubble making her recall how it had felt against her skin when he’d kissed her. ‘I’d like to make an early start in the morning. My grandfather gets tired easily, so the first part of the day is better for him to receive visitors.’
Artie blinked. Blinked again. Her pulse began to quicken. Her breathing to shorten. Her skin to tighten. She rose from the sofa on unsteady legs and moved to the bank of windows on the other side of the room. She turned her back to the room and grasped the windowsill with white-knuckled force. ‘Maybe you should go alone. I need more time before I—’
‘There isn’t time to waste.’ The intransigent edge to his tone was a chilling reminder of his forceful, goal-directed personality.
Artie swallowed a tight lump in her throat and gripped the windowsill even harder. ‘I... I can’t go with you.’
There was a beat or two of intense silence. A silence so thick it seemed to be pressing in on her from all four walls and even the ceiling. A silence that echoed in her head and roared in her ears and reminded her she was way out of her depth.
‘What do you mean, you can’t? We made an agreement, Artie. I expect you to adhere to it.’ His voice throbbed with frustration. ‘Be ready at seven thirty. I’m not taking no for an answer.’
Artie released her grip on the windowsill and turned to face him. Her stomach was roiling, her skin damp with perspiration, her mind reeling at the thought of going beyond the castello gates. ‘Luca, please don’t do this.’ Her voice came out sandpaper-hoarse.
He gave a savage frown. ‘Don’t do what? All I’m asking is for you to uphold your side of our agreement. Which, I might remind you, is a legal one. You signed the papers my lawyer prepared—remember?’
Artie steepled her hands against her nose and mouth, trying to control her breathing. Her heart was doing cartwheels and star jumps and back flips and her pulse was off the charts. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to go...’
‘Then what is it?’
She lowered her hands from her face and pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling. She clasped her hands in front of her body, her fingers tightly interlaced to the point of discomfort. She couldn’t bring her gaze up to meet his, so instead aimed it at the carpet near his feet. ‘There’s something I haven’t told you...something important.’
Luca crossed the room until he was standing in front of her. He lifted her chin with the end of his finger and meshed his gaze with hers. His frown was still in place but was more concerned now than angry. ‘What?’ His tone was disarmingly gentle and his touch on her chin light but strangely soothing. ‘Tell me what’s going on. I want the truth, cara.’
Artie bit the inside of her mouth, trying to find the words to describe her condition. Her weakness. Her shame. ‘I... I haven’t been outside the castello grounds since I was fifteen years old. It’s not that I don’t want to leave it—I can’t.’
His hand fell away from her face, his forehead creased in lines of puzzlement. ‘Why can’t you? What’s stopping you?’
She gave a hollow, self-deprecating laugh and pointed a finger at her chest. ‘I’m stopping me.’ She stepped back from him and wrapped her arms around her body. ‘I have crippling social anxiety. I can’t cope with crowds and busy, bustling places. I literally freeze or have a meltdown—a full-blown panic attack.’
He opened and closed his mouth as if trying to think of something to say.
‘I’m sorry,’ Artie said. ‘I should have told you before now but I was too embarrassed and—’
‘Please. Don’t apologise.’ His voice was husky, his expression etched with concern. He shook his head like he was trying to get his muddled thoughts in some sort of order. ‘Why didn’t your father say something to me? He led me to believe you were—’
‘Normal?’ She raised her brows in an arch manner. ‘Is that the word you were looking for? I’m hardly that, am I?’
Luca made a rough sound at the back of his throat. ‘Cara, please don’t run yourself down like that. Have you seen a health professional about it?’
‘Four.’
‘And?’
Artie spread
her hands outwards. ‘And nothing. I couldn’t cope with the side effects of medication. Meditation and mindfulness helped initially but not enough to get me outside the castello grounds. Talk therapy helped too at first but it was expensive and I didn’t have the time with my caring responsibilities with Papa to keep going with it.’ She gave a sigh and added, ‘I found it exhausting, to be honest. Talking about stuff I didn’t really want to talk about.’
‘The accident?’
Artie nodded, her gaze slipping out of reach of his. ‘So, there you have it. My life in a nutshell—no pun intended.’
Luca brushed a finger down her cheek. ‘Look at me, cara.’ It was a command but so gently delivered it made something move inside her chest like the slow flow of warm honey.
Artie raised her eyes back to his, the tip of her tongue sneaking out to sweep over her lips. ‘I’m sorry for misleading you. You probably wouldn’t have married me if you’d known. But I was so desperate to keep the castello. I don’t know what I’d do without it. It’s the only home I’ve ever known and if I’m forced to leave...’ She bit her lip until she winced. ‘I can’t leave. I just can’t.’
He touched her lip with the pad of his thumb. ‘Stop doing that. You’ll make it bleed.’ His tone was gruff and gently reproving, his gaze surprisingly tender. ‘We’ll find a way to manage this.’
‘How? If your grandfather is too ill to travel, then how will I ever get to meet him?’
‘Technology to the rescue.’ He gave a quick smile and patted his jeans pocket, where his phone was housed. ‘We can set up a video call. Nonno’s eyesight isn’t great and he’s not keen on mobile phones but it will be better than nothing.’
Artie moved a step or two away, her arms crossing over her body, her hands rubbing up and down her upper arms as if warding off a chill. ‘You’re being very understanding about this... I wouldn’t blame you if you tore up the agreement and took full possession of the castello.’
Please God, don’t let him do that. Please. Please. Please.
Luca came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘That’s not going to happen.’ She suppressed a shiver as the movement of air when he spoke disturbed the loose strands of her hair around her neck. ‘We’ll work together to solve this.’
Artie turned to face him with a frown. ‘Why are you being so generous? You said earlier today you’re a selfish man, but I’m not seeing it.’
His smile was lopsided and his hands gently squeezed the tops of her shoulders. ‘I can be extremely selfish when it comes to getting what I want.’ His gaze drifted to her mouth and her heart skipped a beat. After a moment, his eyes came back to hers. Dark. Lustrous. Intense. The air suddenly vibrating with crackling energy as if all the oxygen particles had been disturbed.
‘Luca?’ Her voice was barely audible, whisper-soft. Her hand crept up to touch his lean jaw, her fingers trailing over the light prickle of his stubble. She sent her index finger around the firm contours of his mouth, the top lip and then the slightly fuller lower one. He drew in a sharp breath as if her touch excited him, thrilled him, tempted him.
His hand came up and his fingers wrapped around her slim wrist as if to pull her hand from his face. But then he made a low, deep sound at the back of his throat and his head came down and his mouth set fire to hers.
CHAPTER SIX
LUCA KNEW HE should stop the kiss before it got out of control. Knew he shouldn’t draw her closer to his body where his blood was swelling him fit to burst. Knew he was forty times a fool to be tempted to change the rules on their paper marriage. But right then, all he could do was explore her soft mouth and let his senses run wild with the sweet, tempting taste of her lips. She opened to him on a breathless sigh and the base of his spine tingled when her tongue met his—shy and yet playful, innocent and yet daring. Need drove him to kiss her more deeply, to hold her more closely, to forget about the restrictions he’d placed on their relationship. Call him reckless, call him foolish, but right now he would die without the sweet temptation of her mouth responding to his.
Artie pressed herself against him, her arms winding around his neck, her young, slim body fitting against him as if fashioned specially for him. He ached to explore the soft perfection of her breasts, to glide his hands over her skin, to breathe in the scent of her, to taste her in the most intimate way possible.
His hands settled on her hips, holding her to the aching throb in his pelvis, his conscience at war with his body. He finally managed to find the willpower to drag his mouth off hers, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go.
‘You know this can’t happen.’ His voice was so rough it sounded like he’d swallowed ground glass.
She looked up at him with eyes bright and shining with arousal. ‘Why can’t it? We’re both consenting adults.’
Luca placed his hands around her wrists and pulled her arms from around his neck, but he still didn’t release her. His fingers circled her wrists in a loose hold, his desire for her chomping at the bit like a bolting thoroughbred stallion. ‘You know why.’
Her mouth tightened, her cheeks pooling with twin circles of pink. ‘Because I’m a virgin? Is that it?’
Luca released her wrists and stepped away, dragging a hand through his hair in an effort to get his pulse rate to go back to somewhere near normal. ‘It’s not just about that.’
‘Are you saying you don’t find me attractive? Not desirable?’ Self-doubt quavered in her tone.
Luca let out a gusty sigh. ‘I find you extremely attractive and desirable but that’s not why I married you. It’s not part of the deal. It will make things too complicated when we end it.’
‘How do you know that? People have flings all the time without falling in love with each other. Why not us?’
Luca put some distance between their bodies, but even a metre or so away he could still feel the magnetic pull of hers. ‘You’re young, Artie. Not just in chronological years but in experience. You said it yourself—you haven’t been outside the castello for ten years. Those were ten valuable growing-up years.’
Her expression soured and hurt coloured her tone. ‘You think I’m immature. A child in an adult’s body? Is that what you’re saying?’
Luca pressed his lips together, fighting to keep his self-control in check. Her adult body was temptation personified but he had to keep his hands off her. It wouldn’t be fair to take things to another level, not now he knew how limited her experience. He was the first man to kiss her, to touch her, to expose her to male desire. She was like a teenager experiencing her first crush. A physical crush that had to stop before it got started. ‘I’m saying I’m not the right man for you.’
‘Consider my offer withdrawn.’ She folded her arms around her body and sent him a sideways glance. ‘Sorry if I offended you by being so brazen. Believe me, I surprised myself. I don’t know what came over me.’
Luca fought back a wry smile. ‘We should keep kissing to the absolute minimum.’
Artie gave an indifferent shrug but her eyes displayed her disappointment. ‘Fine by me.’
The silence throbbed with a dangerous energy. An energy Luca could feel in every cell of his body. Humming, thrumming sensual energy, awakened, stirred, unsatisfied.
It would be so easy to take back everything he had said and gather her in his arms, to assuage the longing that burned in his body with hot, flicking tongues of flame, to teach her the wonder of sexual compatibility—for he was sure they would be compatible.
He had not felt such electrifying chemistry from kissing someone before. He had not felt such a rush of lust from holding someone close to his body. He had not felt so dangerously tempted to throw caution to the wind and sink his body into the soft silk of another’s.
Artie released her arms from around her middle and absently toyed with her wedding ring. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed.’ Her cheeks reddened
and she hastily added, ‘Alone, I mean. I wasn’t suggesting you join—’
‘Goodnight, cara.’
* * *
Artie bolted up the stairs as if she were being chased by a ghost. Eek. How could she have been so gauche as to practically beg Luca to make love to her? She couldn’t understand why she had been so wanton in her behaviour. Was there something wrong with her? Had her lack of socialising with people her own age affected her development? Her body had woken from a long sleep the moment he kissed her at the wedding. His mouth had sent shivers of longing to every pore of her skin, made her aware of her female needs and desires, made her hungry for a deeper, more powerful connection. A physical connection that would ease the tight, dragging ache in her core.
She closed her bedroom door behind her, letting out a ragged breath. Fool. Fool. Fool. He had laid down the rules—a paper marriage with no emotional attachment. A business contract that was convenient and for both parties. But what was convenient about the way she felt about Luca? The heat and fire of his touch made her greedy for more. She had felt his physical response to her, so why was he denying them both the pleasure they both craved?
Because he doesn’t want you to fall in love with him.
Artie walked over to her bed and sank onto the mattress with another sigh. Luca thought her too young and innocent for him, too inexperienced in the ways of the world for their relationship to be on an equal footing. But the way her body responded to him made her feel more than his equal. It made her feel alive and feminine and powerful in a way she had never imagined she could feel.
She looked down at the engagement and wedding rings on her left hand, the symbol of their union as a married couple. She was tied to him by law but not by love. And she was fine with that. Mostly. What she wanted was to be tied to him in desire, to explore the electrifying chemistry between them, to indulge herself in the world of heady sensuality.
Artie bounced off the bed and went to her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the marble basin. Her eyes were overly bright, her lips still pink and swollen from Luca’s passionate kiss. She touched her lower lip with her fingers, amazed at how sensitive it was, as if his kiss had released every one of her nerve endings from a deep freeze.
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