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It was my turn to step towards him, angling my head back to gaze steadily into his dark eyes. “But I’m your wife now, Luca. I’m not his. Just because you’re his heir doesn’t mean anything. You’re an adult. Are you with me, or are you with him? You can only be with one of us.”

Luca’s head bent low. His forehead was mere inches from mine, his breath hot on my face. “You, of course, Giselle. It’s you.” His hands lifted to my arms, gently touching me. I stiffened only a little, leftover trepidation after being so close to Rocco, but I let out a breath, forcing myself to relax.

“I hope you’re not just saying that.”

“I’m not. I mean it. I’m… I mean every single word.”

My lips curled into a smile. I couldn’t stop myself. As much as I’d wanted to hate him, it was impossible. He might make mistakes—but didn’t we all? We were human, and because of that mistakes were part of the territory. I couldn’t hate him based on what his father had done to me years ago.

Before thinking better of it, I brought my mouth to his, giving him a soft, quick kiss. It was over before I knew it, and yet it still filled my lower half with warmth and tingles. He definitely needed to sleep on the floor, otherwise I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to sleep without getting our arms and legs tangled in certain ways.

I pulled away from him before he could kiss me back, before things turned up a notch. I meandered to the bed, pulling off a pillow and the top blanket. “Have you told your mother about all of this?”

“About us? Not yet. I… I assume my father hasn’t, either, otherwise she would’ve called. A part of me doesn’t want to, because…” He stopped, and I turned around to face him, cocking a brow at him.

“Because what?”

“Because I know this isn’t going to last,” he muttered, looking almost dejected, like he actually wanted to be married to me. Which was just ridiculous when you thought about it; it wasn’t like we knew each other that well. Sure, there was some kind of attraction, but you couldn’t build a life on mutual attraction and nothing else.

He went on, “I don’t want to tell her about you, get her hopes up that she’ll have grandchildren soon.” His cheeks blushed a bit at that, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “She’ll get all excited, want to come down to Cypress to meet you, and then, when things don’t work out, she’ll get upset. Sad. I don’t want her to get sad. She’s… her health isn’t the best, and stress doesn’t help.”

I nodded. Being married to a man like Rocco surely wasn’t helping her condition either, then, but it wasn’t my place to say anything about that. “I get it. It’s okay.” Besides, shouldn’t I be happy that Luca was aware this marriage was only temporary? Until I got my father out of the picture, and then his; only then could we really nullify this marriage.

A part of me might be sad when that day came, but not because of the end of the marriage. No, I think I’d be sad because Luca would go on to bigger and better things. He had a mother to take care of, so he’d leave Cypress. If I had my way, neither Rocco nor my father would get on the Black Hand, and that meant Luca would have no reason to stay.

He wouldn’t stay for me. I wouldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t. He seemed to love his mother, and I would not come between them. It was a love I was jealous of, something I never had. Not love from my mother, not love from my father. My life had lacked that aspect until recently.

Did Father Charlie love me? He was kind, he listened to me whenever I needed his ear and his comfort, but surely he’d been that way to everyone else who visited his church. No, I wasn’t naive enough to believe the man who’d saved my life loved me any more than he cared for the other strangers in his church.

Night fell, and we got ready for bed. We arranged Luca’s bedding on the floor. He went to shower and came back wearing what must be his nighttime ensemble: loose shorts, no socks, and a plain black t-shirt that hugged his torso in a way that left nothing to the imagination. He was toned in all the right ways, certainly, and those arms… I could easily imagine them wrapping around me and holding me tight.

I was sitting up in bed, holding onto Father Charlie’s cross, when he returned, his dark hair slicked back and damp. He saw me, gave me a smile, and came to the bed, sitting on its side. He glanced at the cross. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” I whispered. My thumb ran over the inlaid jewels.

“Could I?” Something in my chest tightened, and I handed him the cross and the necklace it was on. He was gentle when he took it from me, studying it from all sides. “This was Father Charlie’s? The priest who saved your life?”

“Yeah, it was his. It’s the only thing I have of his. It’s… it’s probably the only thing I have that matters to me.” Well, besides that ivory gun. That thing had struck a nerve with me, but in a good way.

Luca handed it back to me. “I’m sure he would be proud of you.”

“Would he?” I thought back to everything I’d done. The Playground, having sex with a stranger—twice. Having sex with another priest—again, twice. Sleeping with Zander, asking for his loyalty, and doing the same thing to Luca, minus the sex. Would Father Charlie approve of any of it? Doubtful.

Speaking of Zander, he’d texted me not too long ago, saying I had a lunch meeting with Shay tomorrow. Tonight I doubted I’d get much sleep.

“I’m sure he would,” Luca said again. “Just like your mother.”

I had to look up at him at that. He had no idea what my mother would or wouldn’t do, what she would approve of or not, but his words still filled my heart with contentment. Luca could be sweet when he tried to be. I… I didn’t deserve that sweetness.

“I, uh, I pulled out a clean towel for you. Tomorrow we can run out and get you whatever soap and shampoo you want. If you want to shower tonight, you can just use mine. Our bathroom is just across the hall.” Luca’s voice lowered, “My father has his own, so you shouldn’t run into him. If you do, just call for me and I’ll come running. If he tries to touch you—”

“I’m not helpless,” I said. “But thank you.”

I slid off the bed, placed the cross on the nightstand, and went to the closet to grab a change of clothes. No sneaking out tonight, as much as I wanted to. I hoped Ezekiel would understand. I slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed to the bathroom down the hall. The suite was quiet, not a single sound other than my footsteps, all the lights off.

Maybe I could do this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Into the bathroom I went, shutting the door and locking it before flicking the light on. The towel Luca had mentioned sat folded on the counter near the sink, a dark gray plush. I set my clothes beside it and went to turn the shower on. The bathroom was a wide-open space, all bright colors. The only splash of color was the box of accent tile where the shampoo and soap bottle sat, along with Luca’s towel hanging on the wall.

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