Page 94 of Luca
MARGARET
It was way too hot. It felt like my blanket weighed a hundred pounds, holding me down.
Sighing, I tried to roll over, but something pulled me back. I peeled my eyes open. Not something, but someone pulled me back. There was a man in my bed. Fighting through the heavy confusion that always comes when I first wake up, and my eyes shoot open.
A masculine groan vibrated.
“Go back to sleep.” My heart fluttered, racing in my chest. “You’re fulfilling my bucket list.”
“Jesus,” I breathed in a combination of relief and choked laugh. “I thought there was a killer in my bed.”
A low chuckle came from him.
“Not too far off.”
His arm wrapped around me, his body heating mine, and his chest pressed against me. It felt right waking up in his bed. I belonged to him and he belonged to me. My eyes darted to the clock on the nightstand, its green digits glowing in the dark.
Six A.M.
The winter days kind of sucked. It was dark for too long. Cold. And just depressing. I missed Sicily and its warmth. Hundreds of colorful homes in the old streets of Palermo. Luca and I would build our life there.
Away from my mother. I didn’t want any more accidental run-ins with her. I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her. Her little jab didn’t escape me. Except it was out of character for her. Usually, she reserved those for a time when the two of us were alone.
Pushing my mother out of my thoughts, my mind shifted to the hotter, steamier things. The events of last night seeped through my memories and a tremor rolled through me. It was hands down the hottest night of my life.
New York with Luca, my husband, wasn’t such a terrible affair. But I still couldn’t wait to go back to Sicily.
“I miss Sicily,” I whispered in a low voice. “I almost want to go with you.”
The idea of Nonno in danger terrified me. I came to care for him a lot.
“Me too,” he murmured against my earlobe. “I’ll go get him and bring him here. Once all is settled here, we’ll go back and start our life there.”
That sounded perfect. Our life. Our start. Our story really started there so it was right that we live to our old age there. Okay, maybe our story really started at Temptation but truthfully, that was our war stage. Sicily was our friendship and love stage.
“Will you be done with everything here before the baby is due?” I asked him. “I want her to be born there.”
“It’d make Nonno the happiest he’s ever been if she was.”
He shifted, pulling me closer to him. He was hard, his length pressing against my backside, and instantly Sicily was forgotten.
God, the man was so warm and half-naked, just the press of his body against mine sent my toes curling in pleasure. If I’d known it felt this good spooning with my husband, I would have climbed into his bed a long time ago.
“You’d do that?” I asked, pushing my butt against him. A rumble sounded in his throat when I shifted and rubbed against him. “Leave your brother, your business and friends behind. Just so little Penelope can be born in Sicily?”
Okay, maybe I was testing to see just how far he would go to make me happy, although he seemed more than willing to comply. We’d come a long way in our relationship, but I still needed reassurance. Or maybe I wanted another round of last night’s events.
His hand wrapped around my waist, roaming my belly, and I swore the baby loved feeling his warm palm against it. I could feel her pushing against his hand, even see my stomach shifting with her.
“I can feel her move,” he rasped against my ear.
“She likes it when she feels you.” God, if that alone made me choke up, I’d be a mess when this baby came. “I can already tell she’ll be a daddy’s girl. Little traitor.”
But there was no bite to my words. Even after all these years I remembered my love for Da and all his affection. I was a daddy’s girl through and through. But I wouldn’t be a distant and uncaring mother like mine.
Our little girl would have love and protection from both of us.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” he teased, nipping at my earlobe. “If you’re nice to daddy.”
