“I just thought that we’d have our own rooms in the new place.”
Luca’s eyes shine, but there’s no smile on his face. He steps closer and guides me to sit on the bed beside him. Maybe having some time alone, just the two of us, is a good idea.
We still have so much to talk about, and I feel like I barely see him anymore. At least, I don’t see him when it’s just the two of us, where we can talk freely.
“Your son, Zeke, will have a bedroom. Unless you’d rather share with him and we can sleep in separate rooms. Our marriage is for show, and anyone living under our roof already knows the truth about our relationship.”
“I just, I didn’t think you’d want to share a bed with me,” I whisper.
The only time he’s shown any affection has been when he’s been forced to because someone is watching and he’s putting on an act.
He reaches for my hand, taking it between his palms. “I do care deeply for you, Harper. Please don’t think my feelings aren’t real. I wouldn’t have done this, suggested the marriage, if I didn’t care about you.”
“I know,” I whisper, realizing this doesn’t just weigh heavily on me. It’s a burden that he’s forced to carry as well. My heart hurts, my stomach is in knots, and I stare down at my lap, not wanting him to see the pain etched all over my face. “I’m sorry.”
Tears trickle down my cheek, and I release my grip on his hand, wiping them away.
This isn’t how I thought my life would go.
Zeke was a surprise.
It had been an emotional rollercoaster, but I felt like I’d finally got back on track, and now, I’m spinning off course all over again.
Luca wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against him. His embrace is warm, firm, his breath tickles my neck as he holds me tight.
“Every day we spend together, I fall more in love with you,” I whisper between tears.
I’m met with his silence.
Which only leads to more tears that cascade like a waterfall, and as quickly as I try to hide them, they keep coming.
But he continues to hold me, not the least bit languishing in his tight grip. Instead, he pulls me onto his lap.
“I’ve got you,” he says, and his cheek brushes mine.
His skin is warm, and his touch draws me closer. I shift slightly, tilting my head up, our breaths mingling together.
I want to kiss him. I crave feeling his body against mine, every inch of him naked, but I fear that he’ll pull away from me as he’s done the past two weeks.
“Harper,” he moans my name as our lips haven’t so much as touched yet. But just the sound is enough to stir all of my senses.
I thread my fingers through his hair, closing the gap slowly, effortlessly as I drink him in. His mouth against mine is like fire, and I can’t get enough.
His hands roam over my body. One hand presses against my hip, holding me against him, keeping me firmly planted on his lap.
The pads of his fingers graze the hem of my shirt, finding bare skin as he inches the material up just slightly, his touch teasing the waistband of my jeans.
My lips are fused with his; heated kisses aren’t nearly enough.
I want him.
Need him.
His one hand remains on my hip, the other caresses my cheek, opening my mouth, deepening the kiss.
My need is matched only by his.
Desire blends with necessity as he drags me backward, farther onto the mattress and lies down, letting me lie above him.
