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She shoved desperate thoughts into her brain to keep faith afloat. Telling herself he’d brought her here for a reason. That she was the only person he could feel. That the fact he wanted them to go out tomorrow as a family meant there was light at the end of the tunnel.
If only she could believe it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHETHER IT HAD BEEN her midnight sniffle-fest to Claudia—who’d told her to stop being such a darn pessimist, painting her future blue when it was only early days, which Luciana conceded was a fair point—or whether it was Nate’s hyper-chatty mood as they clambered out of the luxurious bulletproof Range Rover to behold an authentic winter wonderland, she wasn’t sure. But for the first time in days her spirits had lifted and she was determined to make the most of their first family affair. To think positive unpessimistic thoughts and refrain from pondering on why Thane looked exhausted. What exactly he’d been doing all night.
No, she wasn’t torturing herself with any of that. Nor was she allowing his invisible power storm to buffet her like a ship in a restless sea. And that ominous slinky dread coiling in the pit of her stomach, warning her that trouble was coming…? Not listening. Not today. Today she was channelling her inner cheeriness—Nate deserved nothing less.
The rich nutmeg and cinnamon scent of gingerbread wafted over her, courtesy of the warm breeze, and she inhaled deeply. ‘Wow, that smell is amazing. It’s the strangest thing—to be looking at Santa’s grotto, surrounded by reindeer and heaps of snow, in twenty degrees—but I’ve got to admit what they’ve achieved is fantastic. It’s Lapland!’
Slamming car doors, Thane murmured, ‘It is…’ in that distracted manner he’d worn for days, as if his mind was in constant turmoil.
Guilt and unease weaved in and around her ribcage, and for the thousandth time she wished he would speak to her. Let her past those impermeable steel barricades he’d erected so they could work through this.
‘Would you like your bag?’ he asked, his voice making a sudden shift to that deep drawl she loved so much, as if he’d just found something amusing. ‘You have a tendency to leave them in vehicles and make me fetch them.’
The return of his humour—however slight—was so shocking, so wonderful, she smiled up at him, squinting against the burnt orange and red haze of the lowering sun. ‘Yes, please. I would. And, just think…you don’t have to send someone to France this time.’
‘What a relief,’ he said sardonically, even as he frowned. As if he was just as surprised at his quip as she was.
Her heart was buoyed up a little more and she wondered if their moods rubbed off on each other. Vowed to be extra chipper, just in case.
‘Oh, actually,’ she said, ‘I think I’ll leave my coat in there. I can’t believe how warm it is.’
With a roll of her shoulders she shrugged off her long cream jacket and pushed it into Thane’s waiting hand. When that hand didn’t move a muscle she glanced up and caught his heated stare—which doused her in his particular brand of fire.
Another return. The first time in days that he’d paid her the slightest attention. And as that searing gaze trailed down her body, from the V-neck of her coffee and cream polka dot dress to her cinched waist, all the way down to the flared kick of the skirt, where the fabric kissed her skin just a peep above her knees, her heart floated higher still and beat an excitable thrum in her throat.
He lingered on her bare calves until she felt positively dizzy.
‘You look…stunning, Luciana. Truly beautiful.’
That voice was husky. Intimate. All Thane. And wanton heat surged upwards into her cheeks as her stomach imploded with shameful want.
She dug her cream kitten heels into the asphalt to curb her squirm. ‘Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.’
Understatement. Right there.
Suave and sinfully hot, that commanding body was sheathed in one of his de rigueur custom-made Italian suits. The biscuit hue was striking against his olive skin as was the torso-hugging crisp, white open-collared shirt he wore beneath. In short, he oozed gravitas from his every debauched pore, and the brooding expression on his face made him look as dangerous and piratical as ever.
Those dark eyes fixed on her mouth as she slicked her glossy lips with a flick of her tongue. ‘Luciana…’ he murmured. ‘I…’
