5. Aria

When I arrived at Luca's villa, I was disappointed to learn that he wasn"t there, that he had been called away at the last minute on business.

But his housekeeper, Roberta, who spoke very little English, showed me up to a lovely room that made me think of a medieval castle. I explored the room, and now I sit in the plush chaise lounge chair next to a window that overlooks the large grounds and beyond to the sea. I did it. I'm here.

I imagine by now, Niko has noticed that I"ve gone. He"s probably tried to call, but once we landed in Rome, Bruno took my phone, telling me I would be given a new one.

I"m not sure whether they don't want me to have my old phone because it's on an American cellular plan or to make it harder for Niko to contact me. A tinge of guilt settles in my stomach for having left the way I did, and I suspect that Niko is worried.

But he has Luca"s number if he figures out that I"m here, and I imagine Luca will allow me to contact him to let him know that I"m safe.

With nothing else to do and accepting the idea that this will be my home, at least for a little while, I rise from the comfy chair to unpack my bag. As I put my clothes in the dresser and closet, I can see they are already filled with clothes.

At first, jealousy flares, imagining that this must be one of Luca"s girlfriends' rooms, but then I notice the tags are still on the items. I smile because there"s something sweet about the idea of Luca arranging for me to have clothes to wear when I got here.

I put my toiletries in the bathroom and gasp at the size of the large standalone tub. I"m tempted to fill it and take a soak in it, but I want to be able to meet Luca when he arrives home, so a luxurious soak will have to wait.

I hear movement outside the door. It's the type of sound that happens in Niko"s house when he"s arriving back home after being away for a bit.

I go to the door, stepping into the hall. I make my way down the stairs where servants are bustling about. I see Roberta and wave her over. In my broken Italian, I ask her if Luca is arriving home.

"Si." She guides me to a room off the back of the house. It has gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking his estate and the ocean beyond. She says something in Italian but uses her hands, pumping in a downward motion that I take to mean that I can wait there.

"Grazie."

When she leaves, I go to the large windows, noting there is a door to the outside terrace. I picture being in this room with Luca, talking and enjoying the view on cold, stormy nights, but sitting out on the lovely terrace on days like today.

A movement off to the left catches my attention. I see Luca with three men. Two of them appear to work for him, and the third looks like a poor homeless man. They walk toward another building on the property. I wonder what"s going on.

The homeless man keeps looking around, often turning and gazing up toward the house. Finally, Luca stops him. I can"t see Luca"s face, but whoever this man is, he's definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All of a sudden, Luca whips out his gun and presses the barrel to the man"s forehead. I gasp, bringing my hands to my lips to keep from crying out.

What is he doing? He"s not going to kill the man simply for wandering onto his land, is he? The poor guy looks like he needs food, a bath, and to be taken to a homeless shelter.

The man drops to his knees, bringing his hands together in a pleading motion. My heart goes out to him. He must realize who he"s dealing with. Luca is probably just scaring some sense into him so that once he sets the man free, he won"t return.

A loud bang sounds, reverberating all the way to me and into my chest. The man crumples to the ground.

"My God." I recoil as Luca turns and makes his way toward the house. I know it is Luca, and yet he doesn"t look like the man I know. His expression is fierce, his eyes are dark, almost dead looking. As he moves closer, he runs his fingers through his dark hair, and his expression morphs, softens into the Luca I know. It"s like he"s removed one mask and put on the one I recognize. But I cannot unsee what I just saw. Luca is cruel and merciless.

I rush out of the room toward the stairs. Roberta intercepts me. She must see that I"m upset. She cocks her head and speaks to me in Italian, but I have no clue what she's saying.

"He just killed somebody." I make a motion with my thumb and forefinger like a gun, bringing it to my head.

She seems to understand what I"m saying, but the confusion in her expression suggests she doesn"t know why I am upset. I push away from her and make my way up the stairs into my room, shutting and locking the door.

I find my bag in the closet and began packing the clothes I"d only just unpacked minutes ago. Fortunately, I don"t have that much, and everything is back in my bag within minutes. The next task is figuring out how I get out of here. I doubt I can simply walk out. Luca"s villa sits in the rural countryside, not in the middle of a large city like Niko"s does. Once I got out of here, where would I go and how would I get there?

A knock on the door startles me.

"Aria? It"s Luca. Open the door so I can properly welcome you to my home."

I swallow and glance around the room, seeking an escape. "No."

"Is there something wrong, Mio Angelo? Open the door and tell me what the problem is."

I don"t say anything. Instead, I go to the window, wondering if I can get out that way. It's on the second floor, and I"m still stuck with not knowing how I would get off the property and to a place where I could get help. Then again, who would help? I imagine that Luca is known by everyone in the region, and no one would dare cross him.

Luca starts speaking Italian, and I get the sense he"s speaking to someone else. A woman I recognize as Roberta responds.

"Fuck," comes Luca's response.

I learned long ago in my travels through Europe that the F word is universal.

"Aria. You will open the door. I will not be locked out of a room in my own house."

I can"t say that his tone is angry, but it's definitely firm. It is a command.

"I made a mistake. I want to go home," I say.

There"s a pause for a moment. "To do that, you"ll have to open the door. Please don"t make me open it for you."

I close my eyes, knowing I"d be an idiot to go against him. I hear Roberta speaking, and the knob jostles, and then the door pops open.

Luca says something to her in Italian, and she nods, scurrying away. He enters the room, and I rush around to the other side of the bed as if it"s a barrier that will protect me.

For long moments, he stares at me. "What is the problem, Aria?"

"You killed that poor homeless man. Why did you do that? He"s innocent."

Luca lets out a derisive laugh. "That man is not homeless or innocent. He works for an enemy of mine. Should I have allowed him to live so that he could come slit my throat in the middle of the night? Or worse, yours?"

"Did you have to kill him?"

He sets his hands on his hips and tilts his head to the side, looking at me in confusion. "You are the child of a Mafia Don. The sister of a Mafia Don. Surely, you know what happens in our world."

Of course I know about the life my brother leads, but this is different. "I"ve never seen my brother kill anybody." The only time I've witnessed someone kill was when Lucy shot Lou who at the time was planning to kill her, Elena, and me. That was self-defense. Luca killed a man who was on his knees begging for his life.

His expression softens. "I am sorry that I had to be the one to expose you to the darker side of Mafia life." He takes a step toward me, but I recoil.

"What is it, Aria?"

"You… you are a monster."

He flinches and doesn't seem to like what I've called him. But he gives me a smile. "Sometimes, my work requires such brutality, just as for your brother. But look at me now, MioAngelo. Don't you see the man who has waited so long to make you his?"

Roberta returns to the room carrying a tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. She sets them on a table near the window and then leaves.

Luca goes to the table and opens the bottle, pouring the bubbly into the glasses.

"I don't want champagne," I say.

He smiles as he holds a glass to me. "It's Franciacorta, Italian champagne. Take the glass and we can talk."

I recall that only sparkling wine from the Champagne region of France can be called champagne. Not that it matters now.

Deciding I'm better off to go along and hope he'll arrange to send me home, I take the flute.

"To Mio Angelo. I'm so happy to have you here." He clicks his glass against mine. He sips, watching me over the rim of his glass. I give in, taking a sip. This moment should be happy, even giddy. All I feel is stupidity for thinking I'd be walking into a fairy tale.

Luca steps away, sitting in the window seat. "So, tell me about your big escape and your grand adventure to get here."

I look down into my glass. "I think it was a mistake."

"Tell me anyway."

I sit on the edge of the bed knowing I'm trapped. I explain how I snuck out of the house and through the garden. He laughs in delight, and there's a lightness about it that I remember from our stolen moments over the last few months. I'm with the man I remember, but I can't get the image of the callous, vicious man I just saw.

"I knew you'd get away. You're very clever, resourceful. Adventurous."

I shrug thinking about the statement, Be careful what you wish for.

"How was the flight? Bruno treated you well, did he not?"

I nod.

"I wish I could have been there, but if Niko knew I was in town, he'd keep a closer eye on you."

I sigh and nod again.

"Thank you for your notes."

I look up at him. How could the man who came up with the ingenious, ultra-romantic way to communicate so emotionlessly kill that poor man?

"I still have them." He shakes his head and laughs. "They smell like you. I'm like a lovesick schoolboy."

My heart squeezes, and I realize his words are seeping in, softening me to him. Maybe I'm overreacting. I mean, it's not like I don't know who is… what he is. Although I've never seen my brother kill someone who was begging for mercy, I have seen the same lethal expression on him, usually at times he was concerned about me or Elena.

"Why did you kill that man?"

I see a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, but he answers. "He was spying on my business. I brought him here to question him. Normally, I might not have done that, but I was eager to get home and see you. His behavior… the way he was looking around… I didn't like it." He stands and slowly comes toward me.

I tense but don't move to avoid him.

"I'm surprised at your reaction. Your brother is Il Soldato della Morte. Surely, you understand how this all works."

"It's one thing to know it, another to see it. The only time I ever saw someone killed was when Lucy shot a man trying to kill us."

Luca smiles. "I always knew Lucia was a fierce woman. I always knew that if someone came after my father in his time of weakness, she'd dispatch them without a thought. I'm so glad she was there to save you, Mio Angelo." He sits next to me. "You've been sheltered, protected. Don't you see, that's what I'm doing too?"

I close my eyes as warring emotions, one of desire and the other fear, vie for attention. Can I trust this man?

"I have wanted you for a long time, Aria. You're mine now. Mine to claim. Mine to protect. Mine to spoil."

"What if I want to leave?"

"You have proven you want me by running away from your brother and risking his wrath to be with me."

I look at him even though I know by doing so, any strength I might have to keep him at bay will be lost. "That was before."

He takes my hand. "Would you stop caring for your brother if you saw him kill an intruder? Why is my protecting what's mine… protecting you… any different from what Lucia did?"

"Lou didn't beg for his life."

"Did he have a chance to?"

No, but… everything when Lucy killed Lou happened so fast. Even so, Luca's words are making sense. Or maybe it's that I just want them to make sense.

He leans in closer, his warmth and scent swirling around me, making me dizzy with yearning. "I missed you." His lips press against my cheek, and my resolve slips even further away.

"I've thought of nothing but this moment for so long." His lips trail along my jaw and down my neck. "Tell me you feel the same."

The words, ‘No, I don't feel the same,' dissipate like smoke from my mind. "Luca."

"Si, Mio Angelo?" His lips continue to caress and kiss. It's intoxicating, and I can't respond.

His hand cups my cheek and turns my head to look at him. "You're mine now."

There's no fighting it. I nod, and the next moment, his lips are on mine, his kiss an all-consuming inferno I feel in every cell of my body.

"There's my woman." He pushes me back on the bed. Or maybe I lie back and pull him with me. I'm not sure. All I know is that all of a sudden, my body is hot and needy for his touch.

His lips are everywhere along my skin, and only when he kisses me on the mouth again do I realize I'm naked. I growl in frustration that he's still dressed and tug at his clothes.

"There's no rush, Mio Angelo." He stops my hands, and once again, his lips trail over my body and down. "Such a beautiful body," he murmurs.

"Luca." I pull at him, needing him now.

"You need satisfaction?"

"You… I need you."

"Words to my ears, tesoro mio." My treasure. He's a romance novel Alpha male come to life. He moves down my body, his tongue lapping over my breasts. The sensation shoots down between my thighs, and I moan in frustration. He sucks my nipples until I'm whimpering with need.

"Let me make you feel good." He moves lower and lower, pushing my legs apart.

"Luca." I reach for him again, needing him, but then his tongue slides through my folds and holy moly, I nearly come out of my skin. It feels so good. "Oh, God." My hand holds his head to me, wanting more.

He licks and sucks, and my body isn't my own as it rocks and pulses to his touch. Need coils tighter and tighter until I'm about to come apart. It's both torturous and magnificent all at once.

His tongue slides inside me as his thumb brushes over my clit, and oh… my… God. My body explodes. It shatters into a billion pieces, sending me flying. The pleasure is amazing. The sensation hovers and then begins to dissipate until he inserts a finger, then two, inside me, and all of a sudden, I'm at the edge again.

"Luca… Oh, God…" I arch, my body tense as it detonates again.

"So delicious," he murmurs as his tongue laps at me. He moves up my body, kissing me. I can taste myself, which should feel icky but doesn't.

He takes my hand, guiding it to his dick. I gasp at how thick and hard it is. Even after two explosive orgasms, my pussy clenches in anticipation.

I stroke him and he groans. "It's time, piccola." He settles over me, his hips insinuating between my legs. He holds himself over me on his forearms as he gazes down at me.

"Did you just call me little?"

His smile is sweet. "It's a term of endearment. I believe in America, you say baby. It's time, baby." His dick brushes against me, and I arch as wave of need rushes through me. I grip his hips and open for him.

He kisses me. "You cannot change your mind after this. Do you understand? You'll be mine."

I nod, but it's the desperate need for him that is responding. Whatever I need to agree to, I will if it means he'll make me his.

He thrusts, and a shockwave of sensation blasts through me. It starts with a pinch of pain and moves to a feeling of fullness. And then it pulses with an amazing building pressure of pleasure.

He lets out a stream of Italian words that I don't know the meaning of. He begins to pull away, but I wrap my legs around him.

"More… più…" I use the Italian word, although I'm not sure I'm using it right.

"Aria…" His voice is tight.

I rock my hips, and he releases more Italian words as he levers up on his hands. He moves in and out, and the friction is beyond anything I've ever felt. Of course it is, as I've never been with a man like this before. I'm not a prude, but I am a romantic, and so I saved myself for the man I love. For Luca.