Page 51 of Backhanded Compliments

Juliette flinches, having the grace to at least look away, chagrined.

“And I’m not running away. I know when I’m not wanted,” Luca adds. She wishes she wasn’t trembling, that she could remain cold and steely—like ice, like her father had been.

Juliette shakes her head with a wry laugh. “No, that’s not it. I kept kissing you the other night. I wanted you. I still want so much more.” Desperation coats her tone, but Luca can’t fool herself into thinking it’s earnest.

Luca wonders if this is what being lit on fire is like. The itchiness crawls across her overheated skin, and it only burns more, knowing that Juliette might be the only balm. “I realized I don’t want you at all,” Luca says, turning her face from Juliette so perhaps she won’t see how much the words hurt to say.

“You’re such a liar, Luca Kacic.” Juliette steps closer, nearly nose-to-nose with Luca now.

The use of her full name has Luca reeling, and she is suddenly too aware of the throbbing beat of her too-fast heart. Anger flashes through her, hot and searing, burning in her throat and pooling on her tongue.

“So are you!” Luca snaps. “You say you want me. Why? And ifyou do, why do you say things that make me think you don’t? If you’re just messing with me, Juliette…” Luca can’t even finish the sentence. Juliette shakes her head, curls bouncing wildly around her. She breathes out heavily, and Luca feels Juliette’s breath across her face. They’re so close now, chests heaving and anger radiating between them.

Luca rakes her eyes over Juliette’s ruddy cheeks, the curls falling into her eyes, the intense heat of Juliette’s gaze threatening to light Luca into a burning inferno. Her fists are clenched, as if Juliette’s keeping herself from grabbing Luca and crushing their mouths together.

“Go back to hating me,” Luca says finally. “It’s better for both of us.” She stumbles a halfstep backward.

Juliette licks her lips, drawing Luca’s gaze. The motion is hypnotic, pulling her eyes to the glossy sheen on her lower lip. Luca clenches her fists tighter, palms stinging, the pain the only thing keeping her from lunging at Juliette and stealing another taste of her lips. The air is charged and electric around them, burning hot and about to catch flame. All they need is a match. The craving to lick every inch of her beautifully tanned skin is driving Luca mad. Desire and anger and arousal—it’s hard to distinguish between them, and Luca is dizzy.

“I don’t think you want that,” Juliette snarls, she strides forward and Luca backs toward the trees, but there is nowhere to run now. Juliette thrusts up her jaw. They’re almost nose-to-nose again, but this proximity feels so different from the night before, when they had been tremblingtogetherrather thanagainsteach other.

Luca attempts to shake the memory of last night from her mind. “Well, I do. And you hate it. You hate that now I don’t want you.”

Juliette shakes her head minutely, her eyes slowly skating down Luca’s face to her throat… her chest… and hips. When her eyes snap back up to Luca’s, they spark with triumph. “Oh, you want me.”

Luca stops breathing for a second. She takes a step back, but Juliette follows, staying just inches away. “I don’t want you and Idon’t need your mind games. Why do you think I stopped? I don’t have space for you and your baggage.” Her nerves are raw and frayed, centimeters away from snapping and sending her spiraling.

Luca knows Juliette Ricci will be the death of her and her career. She has achieved so much, but she craves even more. Her career has just begun, and she has worked too hard to give it up. Now she has a target painted on her back, the world number one ranking hanging around her neck like an albatross.

Juliette, regardless of what she says, is caustic and volatile, unpredictable in her whims. So even if Luca itches and desires more than anything to kiss and touch Juliette, she won’t. Shecan’t.

“I don’t believe you,” Juliette breathes, desperate and shaky.

Luca’s back hits a tree, and suddenly Juliette’s hands are planted on either side of her waist, trapping her against the tree. She is thoroughly trapped. She wants to snap her body into Juliette’s like they’re puzzle pieces, release the tension from her body, and get some much-needed friction on her itchy skin and throbbing core. “You believe we have power over who we love.”

Juliette shivers. “And what does this have to do with love? You drive me crazy. I want you, you want me, why can’t it be that simple?”

Juliette’s words are a shower of cold water that extinguishes the passionate heat threatening to overwhelm Luca. “It is never that simple,” Luca hisses, and she shoves Juliette away from her.

Juliette stumbles back, and Luca traipses down the path. This time, Juliette doesn’t follow. Luca doesn’t realize she’s back in the villa and upstairs until she slams her door shut behind her.

She sinks against the frame, pressing her fists into her eyes so hard she sees sparkling ribbons of color. She wants to scream. Luca considers for an unhinged moment abandoning all her common sense and dragging Juliette up to her room to release all the steam burning inside her.

She chokes on a laugh. It’s always been pathetic how wrapped up in her fantasies she’s been. Even if she wants Juliette to pleasure her, she can’t give in to temptation. She can’t have that sort of relationshipagain. She has too much to lose, and she isn’t certain she could put herself back together again.

Luca’s legs shake, but she gets off the floor. She doesn’t need Juliette Ricci. She doesn’t need a one-night stand. Especially not one with the woman cosmically designed to ruin her.

She might not need one, but she definitely wants it.

TWENTY-ONEJULIETTE

Juliette wakes to a flurry of texts from her father about Wimbledon prep. For a moment, that’s all she has to worry about. Then, as she sits up, she thinks of Luca Kacic, even though she doesn’t want to. Luca’s rejection stings, and Juliette knows she’s sulky and licking her wounds, but it’s impossible not to. Luca has wriggled her way under Juliette’s skin, and the aching cavern in her chest keeps expanding because of it.

Luca is already gone by the time Juliette is packed. Trying to channel her hurt into annoyance, Juliette says goodbye to the rest of the women and gets into the backseat of Octavia’s rented SUV. On the road to the airport, Claudia and Octavia happily chatter about what junk food they’re going to indulge in once they’re in London, but Juliette’s stomach twists in unhappy knots. She presses her forehead against the cool glass and watches her home pass by in a blur of color. She has always loved being in Naples, she will always say it is her home, but as her stomach flips over and over again, she realizes it’s never actually been her home. She loves Italy, of course, but her feet are never on the same soil long enough for her to become settled.

Sure, she has her apartment in Monaco, Claudia’s flat in London, and Octavia’s house on the French Riviera, but none of those places have ever satiated the hungry loneliness in her chest. Not even lifting a trophy had done that.

But Luca’s soft and plush mouth on hers, sun-chapped and tasting of pomegranate lip balm, the feel of her calloused palms against her ribs, the silk of her hair crushed in Juliette’s fingers… that had calmed the raging thoughts in her mind.

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