I tamped down my disappointment, tugged her skirt back into place, pushed to my feet, and reached for her hand. “Come on.”
She grunted as I pulled her up from the mattress. But before I could haul her up into my arms, she twisted and climbed up my body, wrapped both legs around my waist, then found my mouth and drew me into a searing kiss that nearly rocked the world right out from under my feet.
I stumbled. Gasped. Couldn’t do anything but open to her kiss.
She tasted like heaven. Like the salvation I needed and the sin I wanted to commit all over again with her. And even though I knew I shouldn’t, I let her kiss me. I let myself be dragged into her warm, wet heat. I let another piece of my heart fall head over heels in love with her.
This isn’t love. If it was love, she wouldn’t have run from you. This is distraction. This is nothing more than sex.
That reality trickled through my sex-fuzzed mind, once again dragging me back to the reason I was doing this. My mind shot to Manaia waiting with the boat, to the plane we couldn’t miss in Tahiti. To the very reason I was taking her all the way to Italy. To Dante trapped in that fucking cell, awaiting judgment.
I pulled away from her mouth and sucked back air. Let her feet slide to the floor. Stared down at her flushed face and damp skin and told myself I could survive loving her. I could even survive wanting her. And in some ridiculous way, I even knew taking her to Italy might actually be a good thing. It would force me to face my father and prove to him our marriage was legitimate. And by doing that, I really could protect her. Because regardless of what I could or couldn’t do for my brother, keeping Natalie safe was the only thing that truly mattered. Even if it gutted me in the process.
I grasped her left hand to pull her toward the door before I could get lost in that wanting all over again but faltered when I caught sight of the tattoo on her finger.
Shit. That word was destined to draw attention. ”Wait here a second.”
I let go of her and moved for the closet again. She wobbled on her feet and exhaled a soft sound that was a cross between a huff and a sigh. Once I had what I needed, I moved back in front of her where she was slumped against the wall, enjoying the buzzing toy, and reached for her hand. “Hopefully, I got the size right.”
I slid the band down her finger. She sucked in a surprised breath and immediately reached for the ring with her other hand. “It’s thick.”
It was. Wide enough to cover every part of that tattoo, and not something I was interested in discussing. Closing my hand over hers again, I pulled her toward the door. “Come on.”
“We’re leaving? Now?” She stumbled, but I caught her with an arm around her waist and pulled her up against me.
Hell yes, we were leaving now. Because I was pretty sure if I didn’t get us both out on that damn boat, I was going to say fuck it to all the reasons she didn’t really want me and give in to my own base desires right here on this bed.
I reached for the remote in my pocket and hit the button to change the vibration on her toy. “Trust me, you won’t even care.”
She groaned at the new sensation and sagged against me. And knowing there was no way she was walking out to that boat, I swept her up into my arms before she could claw her way up my torso again, and carried her into the hall.
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pressed her face to my neck, breathing hot and heavy against my skin. “Oh fuck, Luc.”
Oh fuck was right. I was fucked royally.
Just not in the way I desperately wanted.
I made it to Tahiti without losing my sanity. Or my shaky hold on my control.
Barely.
It was the longest boat ride of my miserable life. After carrying a limp Natalie into the stateroom below deck, I’d pleasured her with my fingers and that damn toy until I’d felt the yacht’s engines slow. I don’t know how many orgasms she had. I don’t know how many times she begged me to take the toy out and fuck her. It was all a blur in my sex-fuzzed mind. I also have no idea how I resisted her sultry body and erotic writhing on that big bed. I only know that by the time we docked in Tahiti, I was so hard, I was sure a gust of wind could make me come. And I needed to get away from her before I gave in to her demands and thrust my cock inside her until we both screamed.
Luckily, Manaia didn’t make any comments as we disembarked. Not about Natalie’s rumpled appearance or my obvious sexual frustration. If he heard Natalie’s cries of pleasure from below deck, he never made it known. He only told me to call him when we needed a ride back to the island.
I thanked him, grabbed both of our bags, and headed toward the car waiting for us in the parking lot. Still weak from what I’d done to her, Natalie blinked against the bright light and struggled to catch up. I’d removed the toy when I’d felt the boat dock, but I’d left the blindfold on until we stepped off the boat. She was having trouble adjusting to the light, but I didn’t slow my steps and I didn’t look at her face. Didn’t trust myself just yet. Not when I was still hard as stone and aching for my own release. A release I didn’t want unless it actually meant something.
“Merda,” I mumbled under my breath as I swiped at the sweat on my brow. “How the fuck did your priorities get so out of whack?” A month ago, I would have jumped on a hot girl begging me to fuck her. Today, I wanted more than sex. I wanted the connection Natalie had forged with me in Italy. And nothing short of everything with her would ever be enough.
I waved off the driver when he tried to take the bags and said, “I got it.” Shoving them into the trunk, I heard Natalie awkwardly talking to the driver but I didn’t pay much attention to her words. The back door opened and closed, telling me she’d climbed in the vehicle. Slamming the trunk closed, I moved around the passenger side of the car and took the front seat next to the driver so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. Or kiss her. Or fucking take her right there like a horny teenager.
“Airport,” I said to the driver, tugging my wallet out of my back pocket. “And make it fast. We’re in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir.”
Most of the cabbies on the island spoke English, something I was thankful for. Rolling down my window, I braced my elbow on the windowsill and rubbed my aching forehead, hoping the wind would cool me down. I could all but feel Natalie’s gaze boring into the back of my head, but I didn’t turn to look. Didn’t have the strength or the willpower to resist her right now.
This was an asinine plan. I should have left her on the damn island. I should be sitting back there with her right now in case she tried to bolt. I still didn’t know what she planned to do, and I was tired of trying to figure it out. I was tired of everything—my family, my House, my responsibilities, her. My life, which only a few short months ago had been so easy and carefree, was now one gigantic clusterfuck, and I was stuck in the middle of a whirlpool, struggling to keep my head above water.
The driver pulled to a stop in front of the terminal and shifted into Park. “Fast,” he said with a grin my way. “Just like you asked.”
Realizing I’d zoned out on the short trip, I glanced at the meter on the dash, then handed the man at least double the fair. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”
I climbed out and moved to the trunk, grasping both bags before Natalie could get there. From the corner of my eye, I caught the annoyed look she flashed me before turning a sweet smile on the driver. “Thank you.”
The native man smiled and waved to her, then moved back to the driver side. Still unable to look at her full-on, I said, “Come on,” and stepped up onto the curb.
I kept an eye on her as we checked in and got our tickets, watching for any sign she was planning to bolt. Since I’d had to book her ticket last-minute, there were no first-class fares left, so the best I could get her was a seat in coach. She didn’t seem thrilled by that fact, but I didn’t care. We made our way through security, and every time Natalie tried to talk to me, I was able to avoid her, mostly because there were so many people around. But I didn’t breathe easier until
we boarded. And then not until we stepped on the plane and I signaled the stewardess our way. “She’s first class.”
“Oh, right this way, ma’am.” The stewardess smiled and stepped back, motioning Natalie into the first-class section of the aircraft.
“Wait.” Natalie turned to look at me as I plucked her coach ticket from her hand and turned the other way. “But your seat—”
“Is back here. Don’t make a scene. People are trying to board.”
I shoved my first-class ticket into her hand and ushered her toward the front of the plane. But I didn’t miss the frustration in her eyes. Or the way her shoulders tensed. But for the first time since I’d told her I was heading back to Italy, I was able to draw a full breath.
We were on the plane. She couldn’t leave. And I was free of her heat and scent and fucking tempting body for at least the next twenty-four hours. After that...
After that, we’d be in Italy, where all bets for everything were off. But at least there I’d have the good sense not to get sucked into wanting her all over again.
Or so I hoped, since wanting her had only put her life in jeopardy more times than I could count.
Chapter Thirteen
Natalie
I’d thought the flight from New York to Rome over a month ago had been hell. I hadn’t known how bad a flight could be.
We flew over twenty-four hours, stopping in LA and Paris to change planes. Multiple times I’d tried to switch places with Luc and give him a break from his cramped seat in coach, but he consistently refused. He said he was too busy reading his magazine or watching a movie on the screen in front of him. That or sleeping.
Several times, I’d caught him feigning sleep when I walked by. I wasn’t stupid, though. I knew he was avoiding me. I knew by the way he wouldn’t look me in the eye that he didn’t want to talk to me. And every time I touched the ring he’d slid on my finger before we’d left his island, I was even more confused about why and just where we went from here.
That ring wasn’t just any ring. It was as wide as my finger and completely covered my tattoo. It was also a solid circle of pear and round-shaped diamonds that formed delicate-looking flower patterns. I tried to tell myself the diamonds weren’t real, but the ring was thick and heavy, and in my gut, I sensed it had to cost a fortune.
By the time we landed in Rome, I still had no answers about us or what I should do next, and I was too tired to try to figure it all out. Grabbing my duffel from the conveyer belt in baggage claim before Luc could reach for it, I slung the strap over my shoulder and followed him toward Customs, not even knowing what time it was or where we were heading once we left the airport.
He didn’t speak to me but for a couple of grunts and nods of his head, telling me which way to go, and I was suddenly thankful for that. I needed sleep. I needed to recharge my batteries. I needed some time to plan a strategy for how I was going to get through to the man.
Humid darkness surrounded me when we stepped out of the airport. Mumbling for me to keep up, Luc crossed the street and entered the orange glow of the parking structure opposite the terminal. I followed, but frankly, I was too tired to jump when he snapped his fingers. And I was quickly nearing the point where I didn’t care about doing the man any favors.
A voice echoed from ahead, distracting me from my darkening mood. I looked up just as a man close to the same height as Luc threw an arm around Luc’s shoulder and captured him in one of those weird one-arm, man-hug things guys did when they greeted each other. The two spoke in Italian a bit, then Luc released the man and stooped to hug a petite woman with auburn hair pulled back in a neat tail, standing at the man’s side.
My eyes narrowed as I drew close. The woman didn’t look Italian. She wasn’t dark and olive skinned like a lot of the Italians I’d met on my last trip. As she drew away from Luc and smiled, I saw that her skin was fair, and her eyes were a striking pale green. And when she spoke—in English—I caught a very distinct British accent.
“Fee, Marco.” Luc turned, finally glancing my direction where I’d stopped several feet away, not wanting to interrupt their reunion. “This is Natalie.” He still didn’t meet my gaze, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched in what was clearly an uncomfortable way when he added, “My wife.”
I probably should have been ticked by that reaction, but I was honestly too tired to feel anything besides numb. I held out my hand. “Hi.”
“Oh, Luc. She’s beautiful,” the woman said in that accent that seemed completely out of place in Italy. She captured my hand in both of hers. “It’s great to finally meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh really?” I glanced toward Luc, unable to keep the wariness from my eyes. They’d heard about me? The only thing I’d heard about them had come from Sela. Not from my so-called husband. “I can’t wait to find out what my husband has said about me.”
The man—Marco—chuckled. “A lot that I can already tell is true.”
I shifted my wary gaze his direction, but Marco only grinned, showing off twin dimples in his deeply tanned face, seemingly unfazed by my response. He was almost as tall as Luc, with the same dark Italian good looks, but he wasn’t nearly as handsome as Luc. Or as devastatingly sexy.
Marco closed his big hand over mine in a quick shake before releasing me. “All good, I promise. This is Felicity. You’ll be staying with us for a while. Our estate is perfectly safe.” He glanced toward Luc. “And the sooner we get there, the better.”
My conversations with Luc and Sela just before I’d left the island flashed in my brain, and I remembered what they’d both said about “rules.” It honestly seemed ridiculous in my fuzzy-headed state, but I didn’t have the strength to question any of it now.
“Sí.” Luc’s expression grew said somber. “Do they know we’re here?”
Marco turned and motioned for us to follow. “Not yet, but they will soon. Guarantee someone in the airport recognized you.”
“The Customs agent who passed us through went on break right after processing us.”
My gaze snapped Luc’s direction, but he didn’t look my way.
“We might run into trouble on the road,” Marco said. “Just to be safe, I think we should take the long way.”
“Agree,” Luc answered.
Trouble? I suddenly became very alert and very awake.
Marco stopped at a black Mercedes and popped the trunk. Luc tossed his bag in as Marco reached for the strap from my shoulder. Nodding toward the vehicle, Marco said, “Climb in. There’s water in the back in case you’re thirsty.”
I was suddenly too concerned about who that Customs agent could be alerting to think about thirst. Nerves jumping, I climbed into the backseat and latched my seat belt. Felicity slid in beside me while Luc took the front next to Marco.
No one spoke as we pulled out of the parking garage. The car was eerily quiet as we passed under one streetlight and the next. I’d only landed at this airport once before, but I already knew Marco was not taking us on the same route my driver had taken me then. Not only because we quickly left the airport grounds behind, but because the narrow country road we turned onto contained no streetlights and no other traffic.
My gaze skipped to Luc, his features illuminated by the dashboard in the front passenger seat, kitty-corner from my spot in the back, and I quickly realized what I’d missed in the airport and even earlier, on the flight.
The muscles in his shoulders were tense and rigid—every muscle in his body seemed on high alert. And for the first time, it dawned on me that his inability to talk to or even look at me might not have anything to do with me but have everything to do with the fact he was stressed to the max because he’d brought me back to this country.
“Don’t worry.” A warm, feminine hand slid over mine on the console between the back seats. “Marco knows all the safest routes.”
Blinking, I turned to look at Felicity’s dark profile, highlighted by the moonlight sliding in through the back windshield.
“Safest doesn’t exactly put me at ease.”
She smiled. “Marco’s father was also great friends with Andrea de Cesaris. He learned all he knows about driving from Andrea.”
That meant nothing to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”
From the driver’s seat, Marco huffed. “Only the greatest driver in all of Formula One racing.”
Luc shot him a look. “Didn’t they call him Andrea de Crasheris because he crashed so often?”
“Just proves his dedication to the sport.” Glancing in the rearview at me, Marco added, “Don’t worry, cara, your husband’s just jealous because I drive better than him.”
Luc huffed and looked out the side window into the darkness. Chuckling, Marco refocused on the road, and beside me, Felicity grinned.
Neither Marco nor Felicity seemed overly stressed by our current situation, but my gaze kept straying back to Luc. To his tight jaw and the way every muscle in his body seemed ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
I sank back into my seat as silence settled over the car. But I couldn’t stop looking at Luc, and I suddenly wondered if maybe I should have stayed put on that island as he’d asked me to do.
It was well after one a.m. when we pulled onto Marco’s property. I hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip, but the second the gates closed behind us, I was sure my relief was palpable.
Since it was dark, I couldn’t see much of the property besides a long paved drive and tall arching trees similar to the kind that had lined Luc’s parents’ drive. Whereas Luc’s family property had sat on the top of a mountain, Marco’s was more flat, with rolling hills and what I thought were grape vines.
“Do you make wine?” I asked Felicity quietly in the back as we headed toward the lights of a large Tuscan-style house on a small rise.
“Everyone in Italy makes wine. Ours isn’t quite as good as the Salvatici wine—”