Page 17 of Depths of Obsession
“I would like to go to my place and get some clothing,” I say, choosing each word carefully, trying to sound as adult as possible. I glance down at my feet. “And shoes.” I try to bite my tongue, but I can’t help adding, “I don’t think Gazzago will be there.”
What I want to say is,it's fucking three a.m. That fat old bastard is probably hanging upside-down like a goddamn vampire. You’re just being an overprotective asshole. I try not to roll my eyes.
Instead, I add, “I’m sure between you and Rocco, I’ll be perfectly fine. I would rather not have to run around town in my underwear.”
Luca glances at me, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. “Too bad. You look good half-naked.” His eyes rake my chest once more and my nipples tighten in response.
I grip the edges of the jacket draped around my shoulders. I hate that my body betrays me. What’s worse is I can tell from the tugging at the corners of Luca’s mouth that he knows it.
“If only you could keep your temper in check and your mouth under control. I have some ideas on how we can make that happen.” He offers me a ghost of a smile as his right hand skims my thigh.
The condescension in his voice is infuriating, and heat flares up my neck. I know he’s baiting me, but I can’t help it. My mouth moves before my brain can catch up. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re just the hired help then, isn’t it? Here to keep me safe.”
Luca slams on the brakes, and I’m thrown forward, my hand instinctively bracing against the dashboard. My heart pounds, and I whip my head around, glaring at him. “What the fuck?”
Luca turns to me, his eyes flashing with an icy fury that makes my chest tighten. He leans over, his arm resting behind me as he gets close, too close. “I am a lot of things, but I have never been, nor will I ever be ‘just the hired help’.” His voice is low, vibrating with barely controlled anger. “I thought you were better than that. Obviously, so do you. Too bad. Just another spoiled rich girl, pouty and pissed off because she didn’t get her way.”
The words sting far more than I care to admit. My face burns, my throat tightens, and a lump forms that I can’t swallow. I’m mortified. I don’t think that way—never have, no matter what my mother would like me to believe—but damn, Luca brings out the worst in me. He makes me defensive, irrational, and somehow always makes me feel like I’m falling short.
He hits the gas, the tires squealing as we lurch forward, and I grip the door handle, my knuckles white. I silently seethe, my entire body rigid with tension. I am humiliated. This whole thing is so fucking embarrassing, and I’m behaving like an idiot. But the least Luca could do is ignore it. That’s what someone with manners would do.
Luca is like a deadly predator, I remind myself. Manners don’t play into it.
He makes a sharp right turn, and my building comes into view. Relief washes over me, my heart pounding as I take off my seatbelt and open the door. The cold air rushes in, biting against my skin, and I suddenly remember just how exposed I am. I’m practically naked, dressed in nothing but a lacy bra and thong and a borrowed jacket. I freeze, the realization hitting me hard. The thought of banging into any of my neighbors like this makes me cringe. Not that they’re up at this hour, but it would only take one before the whole building would find out and they’d want to see the security feed. Yeah, no I don’t need that in my life. They dislike me enough already because I’m part ofla famiglia.They’re all too scared to say anything, but I know they judge me. This would just be another reason to look down on me.
Before I can fully process my thoughts, Luca is there, standing in front of me. He pulls me out of the SUV, his touch firm but not rough. He strips the skimpy windbreaker off, then sheds his blazer and wraps it around my shoulders, enveloping me in warmth. I’m grateful—but there’s no way in hell I’ll admit it. He’s the reason I’m half-naked in the first place. Okay, he’s mostly the reason. I might have had a small part in it but still… This is the least he could do.
Mentally, I run a litany of all of Luca’s bad qualities to keep the anger burning in my chest, but it’s hard. His presence, his unwavering focus, the way he’s practically shielding me from the world—overwhelms me.
We enter the building, and Luca has his arm around me, his head swiveling from side to side, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. I’ve never felt so well-protected—and it terrifies me. Because Luca being this worried tells me I’ve underestimated Gazzago. Maybe there’s more to all of this than I know.
The elevator door opens with a soft ding, and Luca steps out first, his eyes sweeping the hallway before giving me a slight nod. I step out after him, my bare feet silent against the cold floor. We walk toward my door, but I stop suddenly, my stomach dropping.
“What?” Luca demands, his eyes instantly alert, scanning for any possible threat.
“I don’t have my keys,” I say in a small voice. “They’re with my clothing.”
Luca nods, his expression unreadable. “Not a problem.” He glances around the hallway one more time before turning to me and slipping his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer. His fingers graze my breast as he pulls out a small case, and in the two seconds it takes for him to dig it out, my nipples harden beneath the lace. There’s no way he could miss that, and I do my best to remain calm, but my entire body feels like it’s on fire.
I watch as he picks the lock, his movements swift and precise. My mind is spinning, torn between the overwhelming attraction I feel and the need to keep my distance. Luca Valdici is my kryptonite. He’s a complete and utter asshole, but he’s also the sexiest thing I have ever seen. Being around him unbalances me, and I hate it. This never-ending nightmare needs to be over. I need to ask Mia for help—I can’t take having Luca this close anymore.
The door clicks open, and Luca pushes it ajar, taking a quick look at the interior before ushering me inside. He closes the door behind us, the sound of it locking echoing through the room. “You have two minutes to throw some shit in a bag, and then we’re out of here,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I want to argue. I want to scream at him that I’m not some damsel in distress, that I can take care of myself, but the look in his eyes stops me. He’s not kidding around, and I know it. The last time he gave me a time limit I ended up being driven through the streets of Venezia in my lingerie.
With a sigh, I hand him his blazer and head toward my bedroom but make a slight course adjustment and go to my liquor cabinet instead. I pour myself a bourbon and down half of it in one gulp. I’ve learned a lot of things from my father, very few of them helpful, but he’s taught me about wine, and also bourbon. There are just certain times that a strong shot of spirits is necessary, and this is certainly one of them.
“Pippa,” Luca’s standing directly behind me now, his voice full of warning.
I whirl around. “I just needed a drink, Luca. It’s been a long fucking day.”
He frowns at me and then takes the glass from me and finishes the rest. “You can have a drink at my place. Right now, you need to pack a bag.” His eyes roam down over my body. “And get dressed.”
I haven’t eaten anything in ages and the bourbon floats warmly in my belly. I know I should do what he says but suddenly I don’t want to. What I want is to touch Luca. I put my hands on his chest, feeling the muscles ripple underneath them as he puts the glass down on the cabinet behind me. He’s so close now the heat from his body blazes on my skin. My nipples pucker and my breath quickens. I know he wants to kiss me. I can feel it. I tilt my head back and open my mouth as an invitation. Luca runs his hands over my hips and then around to grab my ass. He pulls me closer, until I am pressed against him. Heat flares between my legs. Luca lowers his head until his lips are mere inches from mine. His bourbon-scented breath fans my face. “Go get dressed, Pippa. Disobey me again and you won’t like the consequences.” With a firm and final squeeze on my ass, he steps away from me.
Again, I’m humiliated. I’ve thrown myself at him and he’s turned me down. I turn and flee into my bedroom, my hands trembling slightly as I grab a small bag and throw it on my bed.
I start piling things into it, my mind racing. I grab anything and everything I think I’ll need for a couple of days—jeans, shirts, underwear. My hands shake as I fold a sweater, and I force myself to take a deep breath, to focus.
