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‘I want this inside me,’ she whispered boldly.
It was all the encouragement he needed. With a few swift movements he yanked off her knickers and jeans, getting rid of her
shoes at the same time, then dispensed with the rest of his own clothing. After reaching into a drawer, he sheathed himself with a condom and then lifted her up as if she weighed nothing.
Annah wrapped her arms and legs around him as he thrust into her, driving deep, and it seemed as if her body and soul gasped in unison. It felt so right, so perfect, as if he were the only man who could ever make her feel this wonderful.
He kissed her, their tongues entwining as he pounded into her and they came together, a great shudder racking Luca’s powerful body. Annah clung to him, shivery aftershocks pulsing through her limbs, and he held her against him as their heartbeats returned to normal.
‘My God...’ Luca’s voice was hoarse. Slowly, he withdrew and Annah lowered her legs. He glanced down at his sheathed member. ‘Let me take care of this,’ he murmured and moved away, going to his en suite bathroom, she presumed.
Legs trembling, Annah closed her eyes and sagged against the wall, taking a moment to get her breathing under control. When she opened her eyes again, she startled at the sight of her reflection in a tall mirror on the opposite wall.
Shock reverberated down her spine. Good God. She looked like a wanton hussy. Top pushed up. One breast hanging out of her bra. The rest of her as naked as the day she was born.
A chill scuttled over her skin.
What was she doing?
Behaving like a trollop while her little boy slept at the other end of the hallway, that was what!
Hastily, she sorted out her bra and top and then pulled on her knickers and jeans.
‘Annah?’
She straightened at the sound of Luca’s voice, a mix of desire and dismay streaking through her when she saw he was still naked. She tried hard not to look at his beautiful body. ‘I think I should go,’ she croaked and, giving him no chance to respond, grabbed her shoes and fled, praying she wouldn’t run into Celeste or Victor or—heaven forbid—Eva on the way back to her room.
* * *
The next morning, Luca cleared his schedule for the next seventy-two hours. He had a fair bit of making up to do. Not only to Ethan for breaking his promise, but to Annah after his appalling behaviour last night. Self-disgust rattled in him. All the times over the years he’d imagined having her again, and when the opportunity finally came, what did he do? Took her up against the wall of his wardrobe with an utter lack of finesse. Was it any wonder she’d fled?
And yet, incredibly, a silver lining had emerged. A startling moment of clarity that struck as he stood on his moonlit balcony, staring out at the land his son would one day inherit.
A son who did not even bear the Cavallari name.
A son whose parents would bandy him back and forth like a ping-pong ball between England and Sicily for the next fourteen years.
It was unacceptable.
Yet he’d been at such pains to show Annah he was a reasonable man and nothing like his father, he’d ended up willing to compromise and, in the process, short-change his own son.
The answer was so obvious Luca didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him before last night.
He and Annah would marry. It was the perfect solution. Already they were united by their common goal to protect and provide for their son. Formalising their partnership into a legal, permanent arrangement was simply a logical next step. And their marriage would not be a passionless one. Far from it. Their chemistry was blisteringly hot. Last night had proven that. He couldn’t imagine their attraction ever waning.
His resolve solidified as he sat at the round marble-top table in the sunny warmth of the breakfast room, waiting to see if the invitation he’d extended to Annah and Ethan via Celeste to join him for breakfast would be accepted or rejected. When the two of them finally appeared, relief surged. He rose to his feet as Ethan rushed over, grinning.
‘Hello, Papà.’
Luca blinked, something swelling in his chest—an emotion he couldn’t quite identify—at hearing his son address him for the first time as ‘Papà’.
‘Ciao, figlio mio,’ he said, reaching down, surprised at how natural it felt to lift his child and hold him. He transferred his gaze to Annah and found her watching them, an indecipherable look on her face.
He took in her appearance with an appreciative eye. She wore a soft, cornflower-blue cardigan that matched her eyes, stretchy denim capris, and a pair of cute white espadrilles on her feet. Marvelling at how she made simple clothing look sexy, he brought his gaze back to her face. ‘Good morning,’ he said, noticing her cheeks had flushed a charming pink.
‘Morning,’ she returned, offering a quick smile before her gaze skated away and she sat at the table.
His conscience sustaining another prick of regret over last night, Luca lowered Ethan into a chair beside his mother, where he stayed for all of thirty seconds before leaping off.
