Chapter 18

18

Jeanne

"What was that?" I glance at Luca, who's staring out of the window of the car that Massimo ushered us to. He slid into the driver's seat while Luca opened the door for me—and I was surprised. For all his alphahole ways, he's a gentleman… Sometimes. I thought Luca would ride shotgun with his brother, but he shut the door to my side, then walked around to the other side of the car and slid inside.

Now I scrutinize his profile. "Was that your oldest brother?" I lean forward in my seat. "What were you talking to him about? Why were you so tense?"

"Not even married, and you already sound like a nagging wife," he drawls.

I draw in a sharp breath. "You don't have to always live up to your persona of an alphahole, you know."

He doesn't reply.

"I overheard the two of you speaking, and I tend to agree with what he said. You can't be hunting down the idiots who kidnapped me and managed to knock you out and haul you into that room on your own."

"No one asked for your opinion," he drawls.

"I am your wife-to-be," I retort.

He lowers his voice, " Fake wife-to-be."

"What you did earlier didn't seem very fake to me." I lower my voice to match his, "What were you thinking, carrying me down the steps from the aircraft, anyway?"

"Trying to make an impression." He glances over to where Massimo is driving.

"You may have overdone it," I whisper. "Everyone's going to know you were overcompensating for the situation."

"You don't know us Sovranos. We're given to grand gestures," he mutters under his breath. "I needed to pull out all the stops so I could distract them enough that they would look beyond what was in front of their eyes."

"Don't overdo it, else it will be too obvious what we're up to," I reply in a low tone.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you want this little charade to work." His lips twist and a pulse of heat flares to life low in my belly. Oh, my heart! That smirk of his is so wicked, it's surely going to push me to do something illegal. Like crawling into his lap and licking his lips so I can taste the meanness that seems to cling to his every word.

"Of course I want this charade to work. You brought me back to Palermo in time for my premiere, haven't you? It's time for me to keep up my end of the bargain." I cover my mouth with my hand and cough. "At least, for now."

"I heard that." His grin widens. "You like to live dangerously, don't you, Angel."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that. Also, I think we're going the wrong way." I lean over and tap Massimo on his shoulder. "My home is to the left. I think you need to double back."

Massimo glances at the mirror and meets Luca's eyes. Something passes between them.

"No mistake." Luca tilts his head. "You're coming to my place."

"What? Your place? But we aren't even married."

"Relax. I'm not going to jump you. But whoever took you is still out there. It's safer if you stay with me. I have round-the-clock protection."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "This isn't something you mentioned earlier. I'd prefer to stay at my place."

"Out of the question," he says in a casual tone, as if it's not my life he's talking about, but some business transaction he's negotiating.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Think again, baby. You're marrying the Capo of the Sovrano family; from here on out, your life is mine."

"Is that so?" I tip up my chin. "I may have agreed to help you out. Doesn't mean I'm going to agree to everything you suggest."

"You're coming with me. End of discussion." He pulls out his phone, the one Karina handed him, and begins to type out something on it. What the— he's ignoring me? Well, I'll show him what happens when he snubs me.

I roll down my window, lean over, grab his phone and fling it out, then roll up the window again. I lean back, fold my hands in my lap.

There's not a peep from him. No movement, except the waves of anger that radiate in my direction from him. I stare straight ahead through the windshield. Massimo glances at us in the rearview mirror, then goes back to driving.

The tension between Luca and me spikes. His entire body is motionless, but there's no mistaking the tension trapped in those coiled muscles. It feels like the Hulk gathering himself, pulling on all his internal stress and agitation and anxiety before he explodes.

My mouth dries. Sweat gathers in the hollows of my underarms. I risk a sideways glance, and his blue gaze instantly latches onto mine. In the depths of his eyes, silver sparks blaze. It's like he's eating me up with his stare. The car goes over a speed bump and I slide closer to him. Without taking his gaze off of mine, he reaches over and clamps his fingers around the nape of my neck. "You shouldn't have done that."

His cold, hard voice scrapes over my sensitized nerve endings. His blue gaze intensifies, until it feels like they are chips of ice so dark they're almost black. His fingers are so long, they meet around my throat. He presses his thumb into the hollow of my neck, and I can feel my pulse jackhammer against his touch.

"You were ignoring me," I retort, and am pleased that my voice does not tremble. Or my chin, for that matter.

"Did that upset you? You wanted my attention to be solely focused on you?"

Yes.

Yes.

"No." I shake my head.

"Liar." He peels his lips back and his pearly white teeth suddenly seem too sharp. Too lethal. I wriggle in my seat, try to pull away, but his grasp is unshakeable.

"You sassed me; I have to teach you a lesson."

"You can go take a hike," I say in my best convent school, prissy voice impression, because remember, I went to one of those. A la The Sound of Music , the nuns who taught me wore habits and were very strict, and drilled into me the notion of 'sin,' something I will not be recovering from anytime soon. No wonder I've been in therapy since I turned eighteen. And no, the nuns did not sing on hilltops. I left with a repressed sexuality, and a desperation to lose my virginity, which I promptly did with the first man I could find, and let me tell you, it was a forgettable encounter. Neither traumatic nor earth shattering. It was nice, and left me with a vaguely dissatisfied sentiment when it came to the thought of sex; that is, until I met this brute, and now my ovaries seem to have gone into overdrive.

He makes a noise deep in his throat, and it's so manly, so feral, so... dare I say, erotic, that my pussy clenches. A pulse flares to life between my legs, and my now awake ovaries seem to blossom further. Jesus, Mary and Joseph— Yep, if I swear, I prefer to do it in familiar language, especially because the nuns told me not to use the lord's name in vain. Of course, I must do the exact opposite. My nipples distend, and oh, god, if he glances at my chest, he'll see just how turned on I am.

He chuckles darkly, and the grasp around the nape of my neck tightens. Then he leans into me until his nose almost bumps mine, until his lips almost brush mine, until that dark chocolate and coffee scent of his makes my mouth water. A nerve throbs at his temple. The heat from his body slams into my chest and I gasp. The pulse between my legs turns up in intensity, until it feels like my heart has dropped to between my thighs. I bring them together, trying to squeeze down to contain the emptiness that is suddenly so obvious.

"You were saying?" His voice rumbles up his chest, and wraps about my shoulders, and down the valley between my breasts. If I thought my nipples were hard earlier, now they seem to swell until they feel almost too weighted for my breasts. My toes curl, and my scalp feels like it's about to catch fire. I lock my fingers together and hold his gaze.

"I said, go take a?—"

He moves so quickly that I yelp. The next second, he's unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me toward him, and his mouth is on mine. He kisses me firmly, his lips assured. He drags his tongue across the seam of my lips, and when I part them, he plunges it inside my mouth. A growl of satisfaction rumbles up his chest. The vibrations feather over my skin, sink into my blood. I dig my fingers into the front of his shirt and drag him even closer. He wraps his arm around my waist, closes the distance between us so we're plastered chest-to-chest. My breasts crush against the hard planes as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. My eyelids flutter down—all the better to savor the taste of him that is all swirling darkness like the creamy topping of a cupcake that melts in my mouth and twines about my senses and pulls me into the vortex that is Luca. Heat flushes my skin, my thighs quiver, the flesh between my legs is melting and yearning, and I must have made a noise at the back of my throat, for the next second, the world tilts. I crack my eyes open to find I am in his lap, straddling his hips, and the thick, hard, column at his crotch is stabbing into my center. A moan wells up my throat. I dig my fingertips into his shoulder and begin to raise and lower myself against the welcome length. I spread my legs wider, trying to notch the rigid head against my slit. His big palms grasp my hips and he squeezes down, holding me in place.

He tears his mouth away, pushes his forehead flush against mine, and glares into my eyes.

"If you move again, I won't have a choice but to fuck you right now, and I don't want to do that in the backseat of a car driven by my brother."