My chest feels tight. The image of them together feels too natural, too right. Heat rises in my cheeks as I remember the charged moment in the conference room doorway. The way Valentino’s body had nearly pressed against mine, the electricity crackling between us.
If Nico had not interrupted, I’m not sure I could have stopped myself from closing that final inch.
The other guests arrive. Margaret Aurelius enters like royalty, silver hair swept back, diamonds glinting at her throat.
She commands the room without effort. Dominic Calder sits to her right, sharp in a charcoal suit, his cheekbones as striking as Piper described. His dark assessing gaze lingers on me a beat too long.
We take our seats. Nico sits between Valentino and me, kicking his legs quietly under the table. Valentino surprises me again by unlocking his phone and handing it to Nico with a calm explanation. “This has a racing game. Keep the volume low.”
Nico’s eyes light up with pure joy. He accepts the expensive device like it’s a treasure and immediately becomes absorbed.
Valentino’s fingers brush mine as he pulls his hand back. The contact sends a spark straight through me. I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of the dress clinging to my thighs.
His nearness makes the air feel thicker, warmer. I catch the faint trace of wood and spice from his cologne, the same scent that once drove me wild in Venice. My nipples tighten against the silk of my bra.
I cross my legs, trying to ignore the slow throb building in my center.
The conversation turns to the proposal. Valentino begins with his usual commanding presence, outlining security protocols and risk assessments.
His voice is deep, authoritative. It wraps around me like a caress. I watch the strong line of his jaw, the way his hands gesture with controlled power. Desire coils tighter inside me.
I want those hands on my skin again. I want to feel the weight of him pressing me down, taking control the way he did that night years ago.
When a board member questions the human cost of their stringent measures, I lean forward and speak. My words don't tumble out as they do when I'm nervous this time. Small mercies.
I humanize the pitch, sharing carefully chosen stories about families who lost peace of mind to invisible threats. I tie it back to real fears, real people.
Then I challenge Valentino gently but firmly on one point about accessibility for smaller clients. “Mr. Ferretti’s approach is brilliant, but we must ensure protection does not feel like a luxury only the elite can afford. True security builds trust when it reaches everyone who needs it.”
The room quiets. Valentino meets my eyes across the table. Heat flares there, unmistakable. He nods slowly, a faint smile touching his lips. “Ms. De Luca makes an excellent point. We adjust the tiered packages accordingly.”
Impressed murmurs ripple around the table. Margaret Aurelius watches me with new interest. Valentino’s gaze lingers on me, dark and hungry.
Under the table, his knee brushes mine. The contact is deliberate. Electricity shoots up my thigh. I press back slightly, unable to help myself. The tension builds with every shared glance. My body remembers him, craves him.
I imagine him pushing me against the glass wall later, hands sliding under my dress, fingers finding me already wet and aching for him. The fantasy makes my breath catch.
Nico grows restless. Valentino notices before I do. He reaches over and adjusts the phone game, murmuring instructions in that same serious tone. Nico leans against his arm trustingly.
The sight sends a wave of conflicting emotions through me: fear, longing, and a deep, painful want.
Margaret leans in during a lull, her sharp eyes moving between us. “What a lovely family picture you make. Livia, dear, you must be Valentino’s fiancée. And this must be your son. The resemblance is striking.”
My heart stops. Valentino opens his mouth to correct her.
I act on pure instinct. Under the table, I slide my hand onto his thigh, squeezing firmly. The muscle there is hard and warm beneath my palm. He tenses, but stays silent.
My fingers linger, tracing a small circle that feels far too intimate. Heat pours off him. I feel his pulse quicken under my touch.
The silent plea works and Valentino closes his mouth.
Margaret smiles warmly. “Now I understand your proposal, Mr. Ferretti. A man with a family understands what families fear losing.”
The lie settles over the table like a fine mist.
I keep my hand on his thigh a second longer than necessary, unable to resist, feeling the strength of him.
Desire surges through me so strongly I have to bite the inside of my cheek. His hand covers mine briefly under the table, large and possessive.
