They had come here to get to know each other and hash out a custody arrangement, but now he had a different goal: to find a way to make Claire happy again.
Five
Claire couldn’t sleep that night. Her head was spinning with everything Luca had said to her at dinner. She wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or if he had the ability to charm a woman by knowing exactly what she needed to hear. They’d spent only a week together. Was she that easy to read? Either way, it was working. A combination of gentle words and strong wine had weakened her defenses. By the time they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, she would’ve agreed to anything he suggested. Even the kind of things she knew were a bad idea.
Like touching him. All through dinner she wanted to run her fingers though the dark waves of his hair. She wanted to brush the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip as he spoke the words she’d longed for a man to say to her her whole life. What would he do if she reached out to him? Would he pull her into his arms or push her away? Would he call her tesorina? She had no idea what it meant, but whenever he said it she felt her knees soften beneath her.
Now there was a restlessness inside her, keeping sleep at bay. An ache deep in her belly. She didn’t know if it was heartburn from the spicy tomato sauce or her long-dormant desire coming back to life, but neither was welcome.
She’d come here to get to know her baby’s father, but not in the biblical sense. After her disastrous relationship with Jeff, she’d resigned herself to not falling in love again. It was too hard on her heart, and she didn’t think she could take that risk a second time. If she did, she needed a man who was first and foremost honest, and she couldn’t trust a word out of Luca’s mouth right now. They were on opposite sides of this custody battle. But between the beautiful beach views, the amazing meals and the stimulating conversation, it was easy to let that slip her mind. That would be a dangerous mistake, as she was pretty certain Luca wouldn’t do the same.
Frustrated, she flung back the blankets and headed out into the living room. Tonight, she’d been warm from the wine, so she’d opted for a thin, baby-doll nightgown with spaghetti straps. It was short and nearly see-through, but she couldn’t bear to put on her flannel pants and top when she went to bed.
Fortunately the house was dark and quiet when she stepped into the hallway, so her attire wouldn’t matter. Claire wasn’t entirely sure what she was after, but she ended up in the kitchen. She didn’t bother turning on the lights. Doing that would ensure she’d never sleep.
Instead, the moonlight through the windows illuminated what she needed to see. Deciding on a cup of tea, she found some in the cupboard and put a mug of water in the microwave to heat. She opened the refrigerator door, looking around for something of interest, but nothing caught her eye. When the water was warmed, she shut the refrigerator and pulled the mug out of the microwave. She let the tea bag steep, then added some honey to sweeten it.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness again, but when they did, she turned and noticed a large, dark figure standing at the edge of the kitchen.
A jolt of panic rushed through her as the shape came closer, until she recognized Luca’s gait. Finally, the moonlight from the window lit him, and her heartbeat started to return to normal. Well, at least until she realized he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
The silver light highlighted the curves of his muscular arms and cut of his chest. The sprinkle of dark hair across his chest narrowed and ran down his belly. Her eyes followed the trail along his hard abs, and she felt the heartburn start to rage more intensely inside her.
Okay, it wasn’t heartburn, she admitted to herself. It was desire. She’d almost forgotten what that felt like.
When her gaze drifted back up to Luca’s face, there was a faint curl of a smile on his lips. Could he tell she was checking him out?
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Me, neither.” His gaze drifted over her thin nightie with appreciation in his eyes. His jaw clenched tightly, making her wonder if they were both suffering from the same cause of insomnia.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked, distracting herself. “I just made myself some chamomile with honey.”
“No, thank you.”
As he continued to stand there, Claire felt herself at a loss. She could sense the tension in the air between them. It was electric, yet neither of them seemed willing to do anything about it. Probably because they both knew it was a bad idea. And yet...