He was breaking my heart.
Somewhere between the dinner and his short but halting admission about the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be the Don, I had let go of any residual anger that I had for Lucas. It was crazy to think that I didn’t hate him.
I couldn’t. He was trapped in a life that hadn’t been his choice, just like I was. He did evil things—I mean, my being here was a product of that—but I could see the hurt in him in the brief moment it swam to the surface of his eyes.
He knew nothing but violence in his life. There were dark secrets he didn’t tell me about, secrets that he held close to his heart.
And his mother… Was she like Angelica Griffin? A woman who had been abused by a Don for his own diabolical reasons and Lucas her constant reminder?
Was Cosimo his real father? It would make sense for a Don to hand off his empire to a random person that was not of his blood.
Unless he was.
Pulling myself back to the present, I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand, feeling it jump in response. “Everyone is worth saving.”Even you.
To my surprise, he closed his eyes as he took a shuddering breath. “You’re fucking killing me, Leda.”
“Well, I hope not,” I nearly choked on my words. “Because I’m not very good with dead bodies.”
A choked laugh escaped him, and his intense blue gaze found me again. “I can give you pointers.”
My breath caught. Was he teasing me? Was Lucas Valentinojokingwith me? This had to be a dream.
I slowly moved my hand from his cheek to his forehead, smoothing my thumb across his skin.
“That’s a bit morbid,” I whispered, tracing his eyebrow next.
“I’m a bit morbid,” he growled when my finger slid down the arrogant slope of his nose.
I believed it, but he was also attractive in a dark, mysterious way. My stomach tightened as I brushed over his lips next, wishing that they returned to press against my skin. I expected Lucas to pull away at any moment, to hold me down as roughly as he did before. Instead, he stood there—still as a statue—and allowed me to trace his features.
I didn’t even think he was breathing at this point. I dropped my hand, my cheeks burning at what liberties I was taking.
“Can I make a request, Lucas?”
His pupils dilated. “You can.”
Somehow I didn’t believe him, but that would be something I would work out later when I was alone. “Will you kiss me?”
Lucas’s jaw clenched. “Why?” he asked, his breath stirring my hair.
Why did I want him to kiss me? I really didn’t know, but it felt right.
Lucas felt right.
“I don’t know,” I told him, my hands sliding up to touch his chest. I felt the rapid beat of his heart under my palm, and my lips parted. Was he really into this as much as I was? Was he affected like I was?
“But I want you to kiss me.” I told him again.
His hand released the railing. When it slid behind my neck, I shivered at his touch. My body reacted in familiar ways from the brief encounters we had between us.
My breath quickened as he moved closer until our bodies touched. His leg was wedged in between mine. Oh God, I hoped that the railing was bolted tight, or we might end up tumbling into the darkness from the way he pressed me against the iron.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re right,” he said softly as he angled my face toward him. “You don’t.”