Claire needed to go back to her room, drink her tea and go to sleep. That was the only thing she needed to do. She just had to get past Luca’s hulking figure blocking the path between the fridge and the kitchen island. “Well, good night then,” she said. Dropping her gaze to the mug in her hands, she pressed forward, expecting Luca to move out of the way.
But he didn’t.
Instead, she felt his hand catch her waist. The heat of his skin burned through the thin fabric of her gown, nearly branding her with his touch. “Claire?”
She stopped cold, her breath catching in her throat. Using just one word, he’d asked a hundred different questions at once. She turned her head to look up at him. He was looking down at her, with his own ragged breaths making his chest rise and fall as though he’d been running. He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat contracting. She watched his tongue snake over his bottom lip. All the while, his intense eyes were devouring her.
Claire knew in that moment that whatever question he was asking, the answer was yes. Setting down the mug of tea, she turned to him. “Yes.”
Luca didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up into his arms and pulled her hard against his chest. His mouth met hers with the ferocity of a man dying of thirst and she was his glass of water. He drank her in and Claire was powerless to stop it. She didn’t want to. It had been too long since she’d been desired. Wanted. Jeff had never once in their years of marriage kissed her with as much passion as Luca did in this moment. She didn’t want to let that go.
Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her back to press her hips into him. She felt the evidence of his desire there, insistently nudging against her. He groaned her name against her mouth when they made contact, then spun her around until her back was touching the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator. The chill did little to dampen the heat building inside her. With every stroke of his tongue and graze of his hand along her body, he stoked the flames that she’d once thought had died out for good.
When she felt his hand slip beneath her nightgown and his fingers brush the lacy trim of her panties, she felt the slightest hesitation. Like a lightning bolt, it startled her out of the hormone-driven haze she’d fallen into. Things had moved fast. Too fast. Was she really ready to have sex in the kitchen with a man she barely knew? The man who was trying to take Eva from her?
Before she could answer, the sharp, angry wail of her daughter interrupted her thoughts. It wasn’t Eva’s usual cry for hunger or a wet diaper. Something was wrong.
Luca stilled and pulled away, his lips a fraction of an inch from hers. He was breathing hard, likely cursing his bad luck and hoping that Eva would fall back asleep. That wasn’t going to happen.
Claire pushed against Luca’s chest and he took a step back. “I’m sorry, I have to go check on the baby.” She fled the kitchen as quickly as she could, both out of concern and awkwardness. That situation had quickly gotten out of control, and thankfully Eva woke at just the right time to keep things from going too far.
Entering the bedroom, she turned on the lamp and scooped her red faced and teary daughter from her crib. “What’s the matter, baby?” she asked, but the second Claire’s cheek touched Eva’s, she knew what was wrong.
Eva was burning up with fever.
Claire started frantically searching through her diaper bag for the baby thermometer. Her desire-addled thoughts were scrambled by the sharp cries in her ear. “Shhh, you’re okay,” she soothed, but Eva could not be comforted. Poor, sick baby.
“Is she okay?”
Claire turned to find Luca in her doorway. “She has a fever.” She finally located the thermometer and placed it inside the infant’s ear. “One hundred and three.”
That seemed high. She felt the panic start to well up inside her. She hadn’t brought her baby book. She was hours away from Eva’s pediatrician. She knew that the seriousness varied by age and temperature, but she didn’t recall what the cutoff was for calling the doctor. The louder Eva cried, the harder it was for her to try to focus.
“Here,” Luca said, gently taking Eva from her arms.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Claire asked.
“I’m taking care of our sick child.” Ignoring her irritable tone, Luca immediately started unsnapping Eva’s onesie. He seemed unfazed by the sharp screams of his daughter, so in control when Claire felt anything but. “I’m going to put her in a cool bath to make her more comfortable. Do you have any medication to bring down her fever?”