“How’s California? Is the weather as nice as it seems?” Elle asked after she caught her up on all her life events.
“Yeah, it’s … um … sunny. The weather is great.” I hope. Not wanting to push her luck for much longer, she decided it was time to wrap it up. “Well, I have an early morning tomorrow—”
“Aren’t you three hours behind? It’s not that late there, I don’t think.” Elle sounded like she was checking the clock on her phone to see what time it was.
Quickly, she tried to think. “Uh … yeah, but I have an assignment to still finish.”
“Oh. Okay. I understand.”
“I’ve really missed you, Elle. It was good to hear your voice again.”
“Me, too. Thank you for calling me. I’ve worried about you so much.” The emotions seemed to come back to her friend.
Chloe bit her lip. “Don’t worry about me. I’m doing good.”
“Promise?”
Pausing, she found it again hard to answer, until Lucca lightly tugged on her strand of hair. “Promise.”
“Okay, I’ll let you get your work done now. Bye, Chloe.” It was obvious how hard it was for her best friend to say good-bye, and she found it equally as hard.
“Bye, Elle.”
She pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call. It really sucked having to give it back to Lucca, but she was grateful for the time he had given her.
Blue-green eyes slowly started to travel down her scar, making her remember that a debt was to be paid.
“Come closer, darlin’,” Lucca’s voice was dark and melodic.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him widen his legs, giving her room to move between them.
Following the voice, she did as he commanded, knowing exactly how he wanted her positioned by instinct alone. Chloe was on her knees now, in front of him, as close to his legs as she could get without touching them. Closing her eyes, her lashes fell to her cheeks, waiting …
Lucca moved his hand, hovering his fingertips over the top of the scar that graced the right side of her face. When the cold, light fingertips touched the top of her scar, she went deathly still.
No one had ever touched her scars. Never had she let anyone touch something that was so personal to her. Now, here she was, letting the most dangerous and frightening man she had ever met touch something that had been given to her by a man just like him.
He ran his fingers ever so gently down her scar that ran from just above her eyebrow until it disappeared right below it. Then he ran it even gentler over her closed eyelid, making it feel as if it was just the wind touching her. When he reached the continuation of her scar right under her lower lashes, he paused.
“Look at me, Chloe.”
Opening her eyes, she looked into his blue-green ones that were gradually beginning to look more green, transfixing her, along with his voice, his presence, his icy yet soft touch.
“I’ve waited for this very moment.” Moving his fingertips, he began again slowly smoothing down her scar. “Dreamed about this moment for the longest eight months of my life. Ever since I first saw you in that shop, looking at the music box.”
“W-We first met in the gazebo …” Her voice trailed off.
“I had been watching you for a week before that, darlin’.” He continued gliding his fingertips up and down her scar. “I was watching Elle’s house when a black BMW dropped her off from school. I had this strong, instinctual feeling to follow, and even though I didn’t understand it at the time, I listened to my gut. I still hadn’t seen your face before I followed you into the shop, but then, when you turned around and I saw your beautiful face, it was like the world stood still. That was when I knew”—Lucca cupped her face, using his thumb to smooth over her scar—“that you were mine.”
Chloe’s mind raced with her heart, trying to comprehend everything he had just told her.
“It was everything I could do not to take you then and there,” he confessed.
But you didn’t, not until several months later … That only made her mind and heart race more.
“Y-You said y-you took me to save me.”
“I did.”
She could feel it then. Something she had been missing fell into place as Drago’s words flew through her mind, We both know what being a real prisoner feels like, Chloe. Then Maria’s, Are you sure you’re being held hostage? And, It’s not what you think. You’re here for a reason, Chloe.
“Why am I here?” she whispered. “Tell me why I’m really here.”
Still caressing her scar, he shook his head. “I can’t tell you, darlin’, not yet.”
“You told me I can ask you anything. I need to know why I’m her—”