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What the hell?
Luca stepped out from between my legs and moved toward the bar on the right side of his office. He poured a glass of amber liquid, taking a sip from the snifter before he angled his body to look at me.
“I’m disappointed, Drea. We had a deal.”
“I kept it,” I shot back.
“No, you didn’t. Tell me about Michael Lansing.”
I gasped at his words. How did he know about him?
Luca studied me for a long moment. “If you lie again, you’ll suffer the consequences on your knees.”
“I never had sex with Michael. And you don’t own me, Luca.”
“That mouth,” he warned.
“No talking back.” I bared my teeth to him. “Got it, master.”
“Drea…”
“You’re the only man who’s ever been inside me. The only man to make me cum. Is that what you want to hear?”
He smirked and then added more liquid to his glass. I wanted to smack him across the face and kiss his lips. Why did he have to be so damn sexy? And infuriating. That Italian temper of his brought mine to the surface, making my blood boil.
He raised the glass to his lips. “What are you drinking?”
“Doesn’t matter. Wine, I guess.”
I wanted to fight him, run away from this damn place.
But this was not about me.
“Red or white?”
I shrugged. “Whatever.”
“For a woman to please a man, she must know what she wants,” he snapped. “Don’t act stupid, Drea. You know what you want.”
Yeah, your head on a fucking spike.
Every bone in my body was on fire from the swirl of emotions ripping through me. I hated Luca, but my body didn’t get the memo. Blowing out a deep breath, I calmed my nerves and gave him an answer.
“I never had a problem pleasing you.”
He glowered at me.
“After years of torture, we’re finally getting married. A proper toast is in order, don’t you think?”
He leaned back against the bar, cradling the glass in his hand. His expression darkened like a storm cloud blocking out the sun.
“I haven’t decided,” he said, his face devoid of any emotion. “You haven’t earned your keep yet.”
“And how do I do that?”
He raised his hand and beckoned me with his index finger. “Come over here and put that mouth to good use.”
Fuck him. What a dickhead.
“Nah, I’m good over here,” I said with a sigh.
Luca topped off his glass and then dropped into an oversized leather chair by the window. He rested his glass on the arm, holding my gaze, and silence washed over us. His cell phone dinged with a message, and he removed it from his suit pocket. A rare smile pulled at his mouth. I wondered who could produce a grin from the prince of darkness.
He flung out his hand, his attention on the screen. “You can go now. Close the door behind you.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I forced them down and lifted my mask from the table, shoving it over my eyes. I would never let him know he’d gotten under my skin. Grabbing the doorknob, I shot a nasty look over my shoulder at Luca before leaving the room.
“Thanks for the drink, asshole,” I said before slamming the door.
As I entered the great hall, a tall blond approached me. He had a thick chest and muscular arms that bulged beneath his black suit. Shane “Sonny” Cormac IV was Marcello’s best friend and the oldest son of a shipping tycoon. And he wasn’t afraid to tell you about his family’s billions.
Sonny’s gaze moved up and down the length of my body. “Look at you.” He shook his head. “You are fuck-hot and don’t even know it.”
I chuckled. “Still a charmer, I see.”
“I know your secret.” He bent down to my height, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Secrets are commodities in Devil’s Creek. You’d be smart to collect as many as you can.”
“You don’t know me,” I challenged.
“Oh, but I do.” He clicked his tongue. “You’re here for revenge.”
I avoided his gaze, afraid he would read the lie on my face. “I’m here to marry Luca, nothing more.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Lexie.”
My stomach churned at the thought of Aiden and his nickname for me. “We don’t know each other well enough to have nicknames.”
“That’s because Luca always kept you to himself. But we could get to know each other.” He waggled his eyebrows, shoving a hand through his thick hair. “I own the biggest yacht in the marina. Take a ride with me next weekend.”
I laughed. “Does that pickup line work on girls?”
He lifted his black and silver mask and winked. “Wait until you see my yacht.”
“Is that a metaphor for what’s in your pants?”
Sonny snorted with laughter.
Shaking my head, I smacked his muscular bicep. “Stop flirting with me.”
“You have the eye of every man in this room.” He tugged on the thin spaghetti strap on my shoulder. “And this dress… stunning.”
