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I closed my eyes and scraped my nails along his skin. Luca growled as I clawed at his back, biting his lip as we fought a silent war.
Luca looked at me, his eyes even more haunted than normal. “I know you hate me.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. “But you have to marry me. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“Not tonight, baby.” He held my hand on the countertop. “That’s a conversation for another time. You need your rest.”
* * *
After Luca attacked me in the bathroom, he kissed me one last time and put me to bed. Of course, he didn’t stay with me. Intimacy was too personal for him.
I rolled over the next morning to the sunlight shining through the French doors on my face. It was after eight o’clock. So I quickly showered, dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast.
On my way to the main dining room, I heard voices.
“You’re an idiot,” Luca boomed.
He fired back a few more insults before Marcello’s voice projected loud enough for me to hear him.
“They will sell her,” Marcello said in a stern tone. “We can’t afford to sit on our asses. This needs to be done now.”
Adrenaline shot through my body, forcing my heart to pump harder, my head spinning from the blood that rushed through my veins.
Was he talking about me?
I leaned closer to the dining room, and my sneaker screeched across the tiled floor. All life inside the dining room ceased.
Shit. They heard me.
My stomach twisted in knots as I stepped into the dining room. Luca sat at the head of the table with Bastian and Damian at his sides. Marcello sat at the other end of the table. He stared down at the newspaper on the table in front of him with a coffee in hand.
“Look who’s joining us.” Luca smirked. “Did I wear you out, baby girl?”
“Luca,” I warned. “Don’t start with me before I’ve had my coffee.”
With his cup raised midair, he scanned every inch of me, his eyes traveling up and down my body. I wore a pair of black spandex shorts, but with the way he looked at me, it was as if I stood before him naked.
Luca beckoned me with his finger, and I moved toward him like I was under a spell. He dug his fingers into my hip and shoved me onto his lap. “I’m leaving after breakfast.” He brushed his lips against mine. “I’m going to New York. I have to deal with something for work. Marcello will stay with you until I get back.”
“What about the Franco Foundation gala this weekend? Will you be home in time?”
“Of course.” He tugged on my curls and moved my mouth to his. “Where’s my goodbye kiss?”
I leaned into Luca, and he grabbed the back of my head, fisting my curls in his hand. His lips crashed against mine, rough and possessive, so hard and fast he sucked the air from my lungs.
When our lips separated, Luca released his grip on my hair, his haunting blue eyes laser-focused on me. He rolled his thumb across his bottom lip, a sexy gesture that would have made most women melt.
Luca raised his hand, and the butler appeared at his side. “We’ll have a plate of fruit, no pineapple. More toast, fresh butter, and preserves.”
The man lowered his head in acknowledgment, then set off toward the kitchen. A few minutes later, the kitchen staff appeared with fresh fruit plates cut into perfect slices and a stack of toast with all the fixings. My stomach rumbled as they set the food on the table in front of us.
Luca moved the fruit plate in front of him. “I’m hungry.”
“So eat.”
He stuck out his tongue. “Feed me.”
“You have hands.”
