Page 15 of Luca
“So that’s the only thing you hold against me?” I asked casually. Maybe she’d finally tell me that she remembered me from that cursed fucking day.
“You look too much like your father,” she snapped. “Behave like him too.”
Another dagger into my chest.
She strutted past me with a disdainful look in her eyes and just as she was about to step back inside the ballroom full of people, she glanced over her shoulders. “Get it through your thick Italian head once and for all, Luca King. You. Are. Not. My. Type.”
“Maybe you’re not mine either,” I said, keeping a bored expression on. “Especially not with the weight gain thing you’re about to have going on.”
It was a fucking lie. It’d only contribute to her appeal. Fuck, this was not the way to reel her in. Not unless I wanted her to punch me in the face.
She narrowed her eyes on me and her lips thinned before she flipped me a middle finger.
It reminded me of the night I first saw her in Temptation.
ChapterSix
MARGARET
Luca King.
Why did I always have to run into him? Okay, this was his brother’s engagement party, that was almost mine, but still. Each time I turned around, he was somewhere close, watching me. It drove me nuts. Did he really have to follow me even out here?
The fucking playboy of New York. Casanova.
He’d seen more females’ panties than most men had in ten lifetimes. The fucker was a goddamn dick and an asshole.
I’d never let him touch me.
But it was more than that. He reminded me ofhim. Benito King. I hated how the sight of him clenched my heart and brought back memories of betrayal. Of those who should have been the closest to me. To this day, I could still remember how the cold metal felt pressed against my throat.
Áine made fun of me and my hatred for knives. It wasn’t until that night in Temptation that some of my fuzzy memories about the night my father died slowly came through.
Even now I could hear his laughter ringing in my ears as I stormed away from him that night two years ago. His parting words to my back were that he’d hunt me until he was inside me.
Except, every time I saw Luca, I saw his father. Blood. My father’s dead eyes. The terror in his gaze. The pain that followed.
Ironically, it was Luca King who made me remember my mother’s betrayal. She stood by and let her lover kill my Da. She was going to let Benito kill me too. Except for some reason, I survived.
No wonder I hated seeing Luca. He single handedly brought back bad memories every time. The bone chilling terror. The hate for knives was there all along, but now I understood why I preferred to deal with guns.
“What?” Luca drawled as he smoothed an absent hand down his tie as his eyes fell to my lips. “No other jabs, mia bella?”
The words were deep and soft. His eyes bore into me and my heart fluttered so fast, I feared a heart attack coming on. My cheeks heated with annoyance. At him. At myself.
At those fucking gorgeous eyes.
“See, I knew you could be sweet,” he said with conviction, cocking his brow in that arrogant way. “I bet you’re really sweet after you orgasm.”
Warmth ran through every inch of my body. A light shiver rolled down my spine and my thighs clenched.
Suddenly the memory of Las Vegas came rushing back and the similar words I got from my stranger. My baby daddy.
“I only had to fuck you to get your sweet side,” the stranger’s deep, raspy voice rumbled as I kissed his jawline, his lips. “I should have found you a lot sooner.”
Warmth flushed my face at the memory. It was my one night of being wild and free. It exceeded my expectations by a million. My only regret was that I didn’t ask for his name. But then I didn’t think I’d get pregnant either. We used protection, but that fucking condom that lay shredded. It was my doom.
I thought I’d be shackled to Cassio King.
