She averts her eyes to the kitchen island. “You’re lucky, you know? With Luca. That he got to pick you.”
“What do you mean?”
“In our world, our father chooses who their children will marry and what families will be connected. Luca has loved you for a long time, and while he was here, he spent the entire time looking for a way to make you his wife.”
“Here?” My eyes widen, and I release a long breath. “That’s why he came to Italy? It was to be with you.” I answer my own question.
She gives me a sad smile. “He was a total grouch the whole time. I called him sour tart.”
I laugh, trying to imagine Luca allowing anyone to call him that. “Sour tart?”
She nods. “You know those sour candies that makes your face twist? He walked around like that all the time. He hated leaving you. He hated lying to you even more.”
My chest tightens.
“He was on a mission.”
“To what?”
“To find out what leverage he needed to get you.” My heart beats faster. “Father had a woman chosen for him, but Luca wasn’t having it.” Her lips pull back. “Thank God. Maria wasn’t right for him.”
I totally ignore the fact that she just said their father wanted him to marry someone else because that doesn’t matter. Obviously, Luca got what he wanted—me. “Do you know what he found?”
She shakes her head. “No. But I knew the moment he found what he was looking for because he no longer wore that sour look. He wasn’t smiling and bouncing around the house or anything, but he was determined. He packed up his stuff and left weeks later.”
I sit back in my seat, my chest heavy.
“Hey, I’m sorry I upset you.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry I took him from you.”
She gives me a soft smile. “Luca was always supposed to be where you were.”
LUCA
I feel the bed dip, and then the covers are yanked away. “Haven …” My voice trails off as she straddles my hips. “What are you doing?” I ask roughly, starting to fully wake from my sleep. The room is pitch black, so I know it’s not morning yet. After she stormed out of the room, I didn’t bother to go after her. I got into bed and passed the fuck out.
Her small hands make their way up my sides and over my chest. Then she drags her nails down over my skin. I hiss in a breath at the sharpness.
“Haven … what are you—”
“Shh,” she interrupts me. Then I feel her chest on top of mine.
I lift my hands, and they tangle in her hair before her lips softly touch mine. “Don’t ruin this,” she whispers.
“Ruin what?” I ask, wondering where this is going.
“You. Me. Us,” she answers, trailing her lips down my jawline and to my neck. She kisses my skin, and I push her head downward with my hands still in her hair. My cock is hard. Has been since I felt her on top of me.
She gets the hint and moves lower. Her hand grips the base of my cock, and I feel her tongue circle my head, but I change my mind.
I push her off me and onto her back. She doesn’t protest. She knows I’m not in the mood for foreplay.
Grabbing her thighs, I shove them to her chest and stomach. I take my cock in my hand and rub it against her pussy. She’s wet, just as I knew she would be. I push into her, and she whimpers. I reach around and grab her arms, pulling them across her legs and pin them down parallel.
I can hear her panting. The room fills with soft noises of her struggle at this angle. I have her caged in. Tilting her ass a little bit, I start to fuck her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HAVEN
I LIE NEXT to him, my heart still pounding, and my body covered in sweat. I turn onto my side and watch him. He has his eyes shut, lips parted, and hand on his chest. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to see better.
“What did you do?” I find myself unable to hold it in any longer. I need to know.
He opens his eyes, then turns his head to look at me. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
I sit up and push my wild hair from my sweaty face. “What did you do in order to get my father to agree to force me to marry you?”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “Haven—”
“I won’t be mad at you,” I interrupt him, trying to assure him that he can tell me. “Please?” He looks back up at me, and I straddle his hips, shoving my hair behind my ear. “I want to know. I think I deserve that.” I go another route. Anything to get him to open up to me.