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Luca’s hand stilled on her thigh. ‘Tell me you didn’t buy into that.’
She lifted a shoulder. ‘Children tend to believe what their parents tell them.’ She forced a smile. ‘But, no, as an adult—and a mother—I know better.’
Moving his hand from her leg, Luca cupped the side of her face. ‘You’re a good mother.’
The conviction in his voice made her heart hitch. ‘How do you know?’ she challenged.
‘Because our son is a healthy, well-rounded child,’ he said. ‘That is your doing, no one else’s.’
Annah couldn’t suppress a glow of warmth at his praise, and yet...
Wasn’t she behaving just a little bit like her mother right now? Putting her own desires ahead of her child’s welfare?
Unease filtered through her stomach.
She and Luca should be discussing joint custody arrangements and other matters relating to Ethan’s future. Instead, they’d had sex. And now they were talking about her. As if her childhood mattered a jot.
Luca must have felt her stiffen. ‘What?’ he said.
‘We need to have a conversation about custody,’ she reminded him.
Something enigmatic moved through his dark gaze. ‘We have the rest of the week,’ he said. ‘Plenty of time to talk.’ His hand glided lazily down her neck, delved into the opening of the robe, and closed over her naked breast.
Annah inhaled sharply, the heat from his touch racing through her body. ‘Luca,’ she breathed, but her protest was husky. Half-hearted.
Dark eyes glittering, he pushed the robe open then trailed his hand between her legs, sliding his fingers through her damp heat.
She gasped, her body quickening, the exquisite ache in her pelvis intensified by the feel of his erection hardening and thickening beneath her buttocks.
Luca leaned forward, captured one of her nipples in his mouth, and sucked hard while circling her clitoris with a slick fingertip.
Annah’s head fell back, her eyes closing, any thoughts of resisting swallowed by a fireball of need.
Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow they would talk.
CHAPTER NINE
OVER THE NEXT few days a deep sense of satisfaction thrummed in Luca’s blood. Things were going better than he’d hoped. For three nights in a row Annah had come to his bed of her own accord, and that pleased him immensely. Yet again he’d proved to her—and himself—that he was nothing like his father. He did not bully and take what he wanted by force simply because he had the power to do so.
The more time he spent with Annah and Ethan, the stronger his conviction grew. Their son deserved a stable home with two parents united in their
efforts to care and provide for him. To ferry Ethan back and forth between countries, disrupt his schooling, force him to choose which parent to spend holidays and important occasions with, was untenable.
‘This view is fantastic.’
Annah sent him a beaming smile that punched the breath from his lungs. He’d seen that magnificent smile often over the last few days, but each time it still caught him like a sucker-punch.
‘You think this is the right spot?’ he said, genuinely interested in her thoughts on the location his winery manager had proposed for a restaurant and/or function venue.
‘Yes.’ She nodded enthusiastically. ‘If you had big picture windows facing this way, and a landscaped outdoor area, then you’d have the view over the orchards and meadows with the sea in the distance, plus all-day sun.’
He nodded, looking across the valley. Yes. She was right about the aspect. He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. He enjoyed her like this. Smiling. Unguarded. Sexy as hell in that little lemon sundress that showed off her legs. He silently thanked the weather gods for the warm desert winds that blew in from the African continent.
They walked back down the rise and returned to the picnic blanket beneath the big spreading branches of an oak tree.
Annah leaned back on her hands. ‘I loved Taormina, and I doubt Ethan will ever stop talking about the helicopter ride over Mount Etna, but I think this is my favourite place of all, right here on the estate. It’s so pretty and peaceful and...’ she glanced sideways at him ‘...there’s no Mario.’
He gave her a deadpan look. ‘I think Mario would be hurt to hear you say that.’
