by Alexx Andria
We found Mama’s, and the line to get in wrapped around the building and continued down the street. “Are you kidding me?” I complained, my stomach growling loudly. “I’m starving.”
“Well, we came all this way. Might as well see what the fuss is about, right?”
I glared mutinously, blaming Luca for my burning calves, my pissy attitude and my grumbling belly. “These better be some utterly fantastic pancakes,” I warned, folding my arms across my chest.
Luca chuckled, earning some appreciative glances from the closest women, and I wanted to bare my teeth at them like a wolverine defending its territory. Knock it off. You don’t want him, remember? I drew a deep, calming breath and tried to find my center. “If you enjoy the Bay Area so much, why do you stay in New York?”
“New York is where my family is,” he answered, adding with a shrug, “and New York is my home.”
“Do you like New York?”
“I like some aspects of it, others not as much. But I can travel anywhere I want, so it doesn’t really bother me to keep New York as my home base.”
Yes, obscene wealth had its perks, I thought drily.
But there was something about his admission that gave me pause. Did Luca want more than what his family expected of him? I’d always assumed that Luca bought into the Donato empire without question.
Disquiet seamed my mouth shut. I didn’t want to see Luca as complicated. I didn’t want to look too closely at my own biases, because that opened a can of worms I wasn’t ready to wrangle.
My stomach growled again, and I repeated, mostly to myself, “Those pancakes better be life changing,” because it was far safer to focus on pancakes than anything else currently crowding my brain.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Luca
IF THERE WERE an award for ignoring a herculean boner, I would’ve won it.
I might’ve even suffered permanent damage from walking with giant wood trying to bust through my jeans.
But whatever the cost, it’d been worth watching Katherine struggle to make heads or tails of my unexpected behavior.
She expected me to try to get in her pants—and God knew I wanted to—but the stakes were much higher than satisfying a need to fuck.
I wanted Katherine to want me as much as I wanted her. I had no doubt I could get her in bed—that was an easy but ultimately hollow victory. Hell, I could’ve fucked her six ways from Sunday with her blessings this morning, but it wouldn’t put my ring on her finger.
Overcoming her pride was the first hurdle to returning her to my bed for good.
I knew better than to try to sweet-talk Katherine when she was hungry—the woman was ruled by her stomach, and right now she looked ready to start eating her way through the line of people—but forty-five minutes was a long time to simply stare at each other without conversation.
“Would you like to know our plans for today?” I asked solicitously.
“I would,” she agreed with a wary expression, as if I were going to trick her into getting married at a courthouse. “Does it involve more walking? Because my feet are dead.”
“No more walking,” I promised her with a chuckle. “Since you’ve never been to San Francisco, I thought we’d do the tourist thing for the day. Alcatraz, the Presidio, etc.”
Her expression brightened slowly with a smile. “That sounds fun,” she said but added, “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Katherine...you have to give me a chance to show you I’m not the man you think I am,” I pointed out, mildly amused by her stubborn desire to paint me as the devil. I mean, I suppose in certain circles I was evil incarnate, but with her...I would be her white knight. “We could even check out the observatory, hit a museum or two...whatever you’d like.”
“Really?” She still didn’t trust my motives. Smart woman. “And then?”
“And then a little shopping,” I suggested with a small smile, gesturing to my clothes. “Obviously I didn’t come prepared to sightsee.”
“And tonight?” Katherine pressed, watching me intently. “Where are we going tonight?”
“Well, first we are going to check out of that heap you call a hostel and into something less bohemian before dinner and a show. Sound good?”
“It sounds incredible,” she agreed, but her gaze narrowed. “You’re planning something.”
“Even if I were...you’re committed to doing whatever I choose, as it’s my day and evening,” I reminded her. I doubted I’d get much pushback on the hotel—she played a good game, but I could tell she hated the hostel, too—but if I told her about my true plans for us...she’d bolt. No, it was better to leave a little mystery. “But let’s enjoy the day. I haven’t been a tourist in a long time. This should be fun.”
I brightened as I thought of something else to add, saying, “Let’s check out the pier where the sea lions hang out. Those fat fuckers are pretty entertaining.”
Katherine’s gaze widened at my casual attitude. I guess it was my fault that I’d spent too much time in business mode, neglecting my future wife. I should’ve been wooing her way before now, but I’d taken for granted that she would be there when the time came.
Somewhere along the way, Katherine had changed from an adoring teen to an independent, way-too-fucking stubborn woman who didn’t believe a word that came out of my mouth and was prepared to call me on my shit.
To be honest, the new Katherine was hot as fuck.
The challenge fired me up in ways I hadn’t felt in a long time.
After an interminably long wait—I secretly agreed with Katherine that the pancakes better be life changing—we were seated in the cramped eatery/bakery.
San Francisco was a foodie town, and they were serious about their eats. I wasn’t accustomed to waiting for anything. As a Donato, I was seated at the best tables and never asked to wait longer than it took to check my coat at the most pretentious restaurants in New York, and I’d forgotten how the other half lived.
But I enjoyed the wait with Katherine. The way the morning sun kissed her crown, lighting up her face, made up for the crease that seemed punched on her forehead. My bride-to-be was such a grump when hungry.
We ordered, and within a relatively short time, our food arrived.
I was suitably impressed with the service, but before I could sample the food, Katherine was already diving in, stuffing her face with banana pancakes.
Syrup dripped from her lip as butter melted in a gooey pool on top of the stack. Her tongue darted to lick the syrup away and I nearly knocked the table over from the instant erection that sprang from my pants.
She groaned with open delight, and I forgot about my own quickly cooling breakfast.
“It’s good,” Katherine admitted, closing her eyes as she chewed, savoring each bite. “God, it’s good.”
I swallowed and managed to drag my gaze away before she found me staring like a starving man who’d just stumbled on a fresh deli sandwich. “Yeah?” I said, clearing my throat and focusing on my plate. What the hell did I order? Oh, right, eggs and bacon. Definitely not as exciting as a carb-loading free-for-all. I shoveled in a bite just to do something to short-circuit my intense need to lick the sweetness from her soft lips.
“You were right—worth the wait,” she said with a giggle, the sound tickling my groin. “What do they put in these things? Crack? So good!” She paused midbite to ask, “Want to try?”
I looked up and saw her with a forkful in offering. How could I resist? I opened my mouth like a baby bird. Damn, she was right. “My money is on crack,” I agreed. “That’s unnaturally delicious.”
“Right?” She laughed, returning to her plate. “Who knew the secret to happiness was to be found in a tiny, crowded bakery in San Francisco?”
I shared her laughter, returning
to my food. “Maybe I could entice the chef into returning with us. I wouldn’t mind this for breakfast every day.”
I caught my mistake the minute the careless statement dropped from my mouth. I glanced up to find Katherine’s smile fading. I wasn’t surprised when she said, “Us? I’m not returning with you, Luca. I thought I was clear about that.”
“I’m an eternal optimist.”
“And I’m a realist. You get one week. No more. I want to be free of the Donato family, and that includes you.”
“Thank you—you’ve made that very clear,” I returned sharply, angry at myself for being so stupid as to lose my lead over something so trivial, but snapping at her wasn’t going to gain me any points, either. I tried for levity, saying, “My mistake. Finish your crack pancakes before they get cold.”
But the moment was gone.
I swore privately. I didn’t have time to fuck around and play these games. One wrong move and I was screwed.
My cell buzzed with a text.
All set for tonight. Is your plus-one going on the block?
Any other time I might’ve laughed at the innocent question, but I was too irritated at myself for the stupid mistake to find the humor. I texted back, Not for sale. But we will be there to enjoy the show.
I could practically see Dillon’s smirk as he sent back, Password: Bacchanal.
Katherine hadn’t looked up from her plate as she finished quietly. All that progress...down the drain.
Back to the starting point. I tried for something out of my wheelhouse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound presumptuous.”
Katherine inhaled a short breath, taken aback by my apology. I’d offered precious little of those in my lifetime, and she knew it. For the time being, the ball was in her court.
“I know you think I’m going to change my mind, but I won’t,” she told me quietly. “You have no idea how it feels to have your future decided by someone else—or worse, by committee, which is how it feels knowing our fathers pushed this on us. It wasn’t my choice to be part of your family. Our fathers orchestrated this entire thing for professional gain, and I was too young at the time to understand the gravity of what it meant. I was sixteen when I signed that contract, for God’s sake!” she hissed, running a hand through her hair. “But I’m not a kid anymore. What your family and my father did to my life...it wasn’t right.”
Discomfort mixed with annoyance flashed through me. I hated talking about the contract. I’d had nothing to do with it, and I hadn’t been given a choice, either. The Donatos and the Olivers had been allies in business for years, and our fathers wanted to ground that in something solid and binding—the marriage of their children. I was the Donato company heir, but Katherine’s father felt he didn’t have one, especially after his wife died. Bernard could’ve offered Katherine a chance to take over the business. Instead, he’d archaically—with my family’s help—groomed her to be a rich man’s wife. And ensured it with the contract. Oh, she’d have a career, but she wasn’t meant to be a CEO. Any children of ours—any sons, our fathers would insist—would inherit both companies and keep them running aligned for years to come. The situation wasn’t pretty, but it was the situation we were in, and while I sympathized with Katherine, I couldn’t lose her.
“Look, you’ve already conceded you haven’t been mistreated. And you act as if arranged marriages aren’t common in certain circles,” I said, shaking my head. “Or as if you weren’t perfectly amenable to it at one time.”
“Yeah, well, I was naive,” she shot back, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper, her gaze darting to see if anyone was listening. “Since having time to think about our situation, I came to realize that no one has the right to barter someone else’s future. Wouldn’t you rather choose your own wife instead of having your father dictate to you who you’ll marry?”
The words burned on my tongue to admit that it didn’t matter that my father had orchestrated the contract between us—I would’ve married her without a contract—but I doubted she’d believe me. She would probably think I’d say anything to get what I wanted, which under any other circumstance might be accurate, but I wouldn’t lie to Katherine.
“The world we live in isn’t like that of normal people, no matter how much you wish it was. This is our life, Katherine,” I replied, unable to stop the chill from frosting my tone. I didn’t enjoy being schooled, not by her, not by anyone. “And we are not free from our obligations.”
“You’re hopeless,” Katherine said, giving up. “I don’t know why I thought you might be different from the rest of your family. Thanks for reminding me that you’re cut from the same cloth.”
I might have caught the sheen of tears in her eyes or it might’ve been my imagination, but it didn’t matter. Katherine didn’t stick around long enough for me to solve the mystery.
CHAPTER NINE
Katherine
IT’S A BLESSING, I told myself, each angry step more forceful than the next as I left the eatery. Better to know now that Luca still viewed this as an obligation that couldn’t be questioned. He was incapable of seeing my perspective, both in terms of the contract and when it came to a lifestyle other than the one we were raised in.
Yes, I went to an exclusive school. Yes, I was blessed with an incredible education, but I’d used that to get a taste of what life was like outside the Donato circles. All through college, I’d kept myself on a reasonable budget, not dipping into my trust fund when I went over it. Even when I was desperate for decent food, I told myself other students didn’t have that luxury. I wanted to see if I could live more modestly. And it turned out I could.
I wanted to do something worthwhile with my life, not spend it lunching and one-upping each other with material goods. I wanted to work with animals, find a small, cozy apartment and enjoy love without the expectations and petty judgment of those typical of wealthy circles. I wanted something genuine—not the facade.
At one time, I’d thought Luca was different, too. Before he’d started working for Giovanni. The more time Luca had spent climbing the corporate ladder (granted, he was the heir to the empire, so the climb probably wasn’t arduous), the less I recognized him.
He became closed off. He’d put in long days with Giovanni and be too distracted or too worn-out to talk after. The cunning business sense his father bragged about seemed at odds with Luca’s compassionate nature. Unlike Giovanni, Luca had a kind heart. Giovanni never would’ve orchestrated something as touching as Luca’s trip to the animal sanctuary because he didn’t place any value on sentiment. But not Luca. Luca had always been Giovanni’s opposite. Even so, self-doubt weighed on me while I worked through a degree my heart wasn’t in. I needed him and he wasn’t there.
The incident at the yacht party with that starlet was just the final straw. And when he didn’t apologize, it proved his true colors.
I wanted Luca to be different. Maybe that was why it hurt so much that he wasn’t.
I wanted Luca to be the man I’d foolishly believed he was when I was younger. Kind, generous, funny...compassionate...
It was foolish to wish he was someone else, but sometimes I thought I caught glimpses—especially when he was out of his usual element—like today, wearing yesterday’s trousers, looking wrinkled and adorably disheveled from sleeping in the world’s worst bed. And yet somehow still managing to find the most amazing place to eat on such short notice.
Yeah, he was charming when he wanted to be.
But it was all an act. That was the lesson I’d learned years ago, and I didn’t really see the need for a refresher course. If I was still that love-struck girl, I’d pin my hopes on the flimsy possibility that Luca had real feelings for me—but I wasn’t that girl.
I knew Luca was trying to live up to his father’s expectations. Giovanni and my father—not necessarily Luca—wanted this union. That point had been hammered home with painful preci
sion.
It didn’t take long for Luca to catch up to me outside the restaurant.
“Caught your second wind?” he joked, his long stride matching my short, angry one. “Are we training for a five-K?”
“Stop, Luca,” I demanded, skidding to a halt. “I don’t feel like playing this game. We are not friends. We are not lovers. We are nothing. Got it?”
“Wrong.” He surprised me with a twist of his lips that was both sexy and dangerous at the same time. He closed the distance between us, and I didn’t have the good sense to back away. “You are my fiancée until the end of this week. When my time is up, we’ll see where the chips fall. Until then, you’re my bride-to-be.”
I opened my mouth to shoot him down, but he grabbed me by the waist and jerked me to him, stealing a kiss as brazenly as a thief in broad daylight. My knees threatened to buckle. I instinctively clutched his shoulders, my mouth opening under the onslaught of his lips. Luca’s tongue darted, going straight for mine—taking, not asking. The shivers started immediately, mocking my weak protests until they were a memory. This was what I feared most—losing myself to the pleasure that only Luca could give, forgetting why it was crucial that I free myself from the Donato golden cage.
Luca was the jailer, even if he presented me with diamond-crusted handcuffs.
Even knowing all that, I was helpless to stop him, because a part of me desperately yearned for the bliss I found in his arms.
Luca nipped my bottom lip as he slowly pulled away, his grip still holding me tight. “One week, my love,” he murmured, my foolish heart skipping a beat at the endearment. “You owe me one week...and the terms are nonnegotiable.”
I wanted to blurt, Screw the deal! but I didn’t. There was something in his eyes that invited no argument. Luca had never been a bully, but neither was he a pushover. Tension pulsed around us, weaving a sultry web, tightening until I could barely breathe. He knuckled my chin, forcing my stare. “Are we clear?”
I swallowed but managed a short nod. “One week.”
