“An investigator will do some digging.”
Her lips parted.
“To be clear, I don’t particularly care what they find.”
Her head was spinning. “You mean an investigator would look into me?” Her voice sounded squeaky.
He nodded once.
“But you don’t care what they find.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
“So…if I’m a murderer or a…I don’t know…”
“Well, a murderer is a hard one to spin. But besides that, your past is your past, and this marriage is in name only. I just need to know what the press will find, so we can deal with itbefore it gets out of hand. And before my grandfather gets wind of it.”
Her lips parted.
“I know it’s invasive as hell. I’m sorry. But I do believe it’s the best way to manage this situation.”
At least he had the decency to ask her for her permission. Though would he listen if she said ‘no’? She tilted her head to the side, studying him thoughtfully, and decided that yes, he probably would. It was purely based on a gut feeling. An instinct. But somehow, she just didn’t think this man was routinely dishonest.
“Fine. Have your investigator look into me, but I can save you some trouble.”
He arched a brow.
“There’s nothing of interest in my life. No crimes, no scandals, no drama. No meddlesome family members waiting to come out of the woodwork. You struck the jackpot with me, Luca. I’m all alone, and as it turns out, I have no life. I’m like a blank slate. Happy?”
He would have been happierif she had been wrong. As she’d made that little speech, her face somehow crestfallen and broken, he’d been sure she was mistaken. After all, everyone had a past. Everyone had a life. Adolescence was designed for silly mistakes, for getting drunk with friends and getting into harmless mischief.
Not for Luca, of course. His life had revolved around the obligation he felt to his father, and the need he had to prove to his grandfather that he belonged. That he was worthy of the Di Santis name.
But Luca had always thought he was quite singular in that regard. Until, almost ten hours into the flight to Rome, he’d received the preliminary packet of information he’d requested.
One page.
Her high school transcripts—decent grades, and only a handful of extra curriculars. She hadn’t gone to her senior prom. She hadn’t gone to college. She’d stayed in the small town she’d grown up in in upstate New York, lived in a nondescript house with her father, who passed away six-months earlier. He frowned at the scant information there.
There was a note explaining that she had no social media, so there was no easy way to verify her romantic history. However, on-the-ground interviews would be more telling.
A sense of dissatisfaction ran through him. He’d been looking forward to learning more about his mystery bride. But there was also a deluge of distaste, as he authorised further, discreet investigations into her background. If there were skeletons in her closet—and he couldn’t understand any other reason someone her age wouldn’t have social media—then it was better if he found out before the braying press. And his grandfather, who would no doubt be running his own investigation right at that very moment, and without any hesitation or decency as to how deep he looked.
Luca glanced over the top of his laptop, to where Allegra had fallen asleep in one of the armchairs. Her long blonde hair was arranged over both shoulders, falling to midway down her body, drawing attention to the soft swell of her cleavage, so his body was stirring with familiar masculine instincts even before he could stop it. He ground his teeth, trying to drag his gaze away. She shifted a little, her pink lips parted, her skin like honey and sunlight. Her shirt lifted, exposing a hint of skin at her midriff, and the desire he’d sought to control burst through him anew.Unmistakable and raw, demanding something from him that he knew he couldn’t give into. At least, not with Allegra.
For Luca, the line between himself and his staff had always been uncrossable. Given the way he came to be, it was little wonder he took a dim view of workplace relationships, and Allegra was, to all intents and purposes, working for him. It didn’t matter that her job involved posing as his wife, that was no excuse to blur the lines.
No excuse to forget himself.
He was not his father. Luca lived with clean lines, precision and intention, and he wouldn’t weaken now, no matter the temptation.
It was her sharp intake of breath, soft but desperate, that had his gaze wrenching upwards to her face. Sleepy eyes, half-shuttered, were fixed on him, seeing him. Seeing him looking at her. Knowing what he was thinking, undoubtedly, from the flush of pink on her cheeks.
His cock jerked, begging, pleading him to say something. To give into the heaviness in the air, the throb of need that was pulling at both of them.
He set his jaw, remembering his boundaries, his rules. “Go back to sleep, Allegra. We are still hours from home.”
CHAPTER 4
