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At the Rossi building, Luca ushered me into the executive elevator, sighing once we were alone again.
“Thank you for meeting me.” He scanned me from under heavy lids. “The last two weeks have been demanding. I really needed that.”
“I needed it too.” I touched the tip of my toe to his. “You know, you can just knock on my door…”
“No.” He slipped his hands in his pockets. “This has to be separate from everything else. Doing it at home—”
“Blurs the lines,” I filled in. “That would be a marriage thing. Meeting in hotels is—”
This time, he filled in for me. “Something else.” He glanced up at the rising numbers then back to me. “I need you Friday evening. Frank Goldman—he sits on Rossi’s board—”
“I know who he is.” I’d researched my husband’s business like any proper, inconvenient wife would.
“Good, good.” Luca nodded. “He’s throwing a birthday cocktail party for his wife. Knowing Frank, it won’t be formal.”
“Well, I happen to be free, and I’m sure I can scrounge up something to wear.”
“You don’t need to scrounge. Anything you want, you can have. Go shopping if you want something new.”
I skimmed my hand down his front. “I’m only kidding about scrounging. I promise not to look like I walked out of a thrift store.”
With a huff, he caught me by the waist, reeled me in, and kissed the side of my head. “Get out of this elevator before I think too hard about the fact that you’re not wearing panties and give in to the urge to spank your bare, sassy ass.”
Ialmost asked him to give in to the urge, but the elevator doors slid open before I could, which was for the best. I had work to do, and there were most certainly security cameras recording everything.
“See you at home, husband.”
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, “You’re asking for it,” but I couldn’t be sure.
I must have been smiling as I strolled past Niddhi’s desk. She cocked her head at me and smiled back. “Good lunch?”
I paused, pressing a hand to my stomach. My inner muscles clenched, still feeling the ghost of Luca inside me.
“It was a great lunch.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Luca
RunninglateforFrank’sparty, I asked Saoirse to meet me outside our building, where I was waiting by the car. She appeared a minute later, pausing to have a chat with our doorman on her way out, giving me the opportunity to take in what exactly she’dscrounged upto wear.
Her dress fit as if it had been sculpted to the shape of her body. Black, with long sleeves, it hit her midthigh. Modest on some women. On Saoirse, miles of legs were on display, her spiked heels only making them longer.
All that made my throat go dry, but when she turned to finally face me, tossing her blonde waves over her shoulder, smiling like seeing me was the high point of her day, my heart rate became erratic.
Straightening, I reached out my hand. She slipped her palm against mine and tipped her face to the side, offering me her cheek. Cupping her nape, I brought her the rest of the way in and touched my lips to her jaw, then the corner of her mouth. I would have tasted her lips, but they were painted cherry red. Off-limits to me for now.
“Gorgeous.”
Her smile widened. “I wanted to look good on your arm.” She slid her fingers along my lapel. “No one wears all black the way you do.”
Pleasure shot through me. I’d taken the time to change my shirt, ridding myself of the starched white button-down in favor of black on black. I’d done it knowing Saoirse would appreciate it, remembering the way she had the night we met.
“I wanted to look like I deserved you on my arm.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Smooth, Luca. No wonder you had to marry me. Women must have dropped like flies around you when you turned on that kind of charm.”
All that pleasure plummeted like lead. I jerked my chin. “Get in the car, Saoirse.”
