She sighed. “I do. There’s a time limit on this. We’re not in a real relationship.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I won’t let you. You can relax, Luca. We have a deal—I’m just planning on holding you to it.” And then she pushed up to close the distance between them and claimed his mouth with hers, knowing that where words failed, this kiss, their heat, their chemistry, would make it impossible for him to walk away. “Take me to bed.”
CHAPTER 12
“IWILL.”
She held her breath, staring up at him.
“But not tonight.”
“No,” she groaned. “That’s not fair.”
He pulled her to him, though, holding her tight, and something in his features showed that he was relenting. She held her breath. “I will take you to bed, and I will make you feel. I will make you scream and see stars. I will make you lose your very beautiful mind; but I will not take you like this.”
“What’s wrong with this?”
He stared down at her, torment in his eyes. “I hate him. I hate him with an intensity you could never understand. You are too good, too pure, to know what darkness moves in me. But if I take you tonight, that will be a part of it. My hatred of him, the fact you’ve met him, how he looked at you. It’s not what I want for you.”
“Isn’t that my decision?”
“You wouldn’t choose that. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Then you don’t know me at all,” she flung back at him. “I’m asking you to sleep with me, and I don’t care if it’s partly becauseof Paolo. I’m sick of waiting. Take me to bed, Luca, I’m begging you.”
“I told you, I will. I will take you to bed tonight, but I will not take you. Don’t ask it of me.” And then he was kissing her with all the dark intensity he’d said he felt, his mouth overtaking hers, his tongue a desperate plea, his hands running urgently over her body before lifting her to him and carrying her across the deck and through the door to the boat’s interior.
As soon as they were inside, he pressed her to a wall, holding her there, legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed at her clothes, his hands seeking, desperate to feel her skin, his whole body conveying the emotions that were overtaking him.
She couldn’t do anything but cry out. With pleasure, need, longing. She tilted her head back and called his name into the room, and when he kissed her, those cries were swallowed by him. When his mouth moved first to one breast and then the other, her voice filled the air around them, and then his hand was between her legs, finding the sweetest spot of all and expertly wielding it to drive her senseless, until she was incandescent with feelings, and he was the master of them all.
It was not the end, though. He pleasured her again and again. There, against the wall, atop the grand piano, and finally, the sofa, so by the time he carried her to the enormous cabin and laid her in the bed, she was heavy with exhaustion and pleasure, satiated even when there remained a small part of her that knew true satisfaction was yet to come.
But he had done what he’d set out to: he had worn her out. She couldn’t beg for him anymore, but when she fell asleep, even her dreams were filled with him, so too her memories and hopes. It was all Luca.
He stared at the sea,but barely saw it. In his mind, it was a desert night, on the other side of the world. He was in the Middle East, watching the horizon for action, ever vigilant, carrying the weight of his regiment on his shoulders. Aware that their safety was his duty.
In his mind, he was far away from her, this moment. The perfection he didn’t deserve.
Darkness pitted his memories.
Darkness swirling through him, as always. Marco. The war. Coming home so different to how he’d been before. And now, Allegra.
The way Paolo had looked at her.
The way it had made him feel.
He’d hated his brother a long time; that was nothing new. They’d fought. Each been jealous of the other. They’d sworn to destroy one another’s interests. But never had he felt that he had something valuable enough to care about losing. Not more than the damned company.
And yet, how could that be? Allegra was a means to an end, not the means to it all. What did he care if Paolo had a stupid crush, or simply wanted to protect her from Luca? Paolo wasn’t wrong, in any event. Luca had probably given her the same warning his marginally younger brother no doubt had. He was bad news. Always had been, but the Middle East and Marco had made him completely unsafe. Broken beyond repair, liable to break anyone who stayed close to him.
And yet, she had chosen him.
