Page 17 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
He wasn’t the man I’d come to know—controlled, collected, borderline terrifying in his composure.
No, this version of Luca looked unraveled.
I pinched myself mentally. I hadn’t come here to analyze his physical appearance. No, I had come here to give him a piece of my mind because I was done being pushed around like a fucking cart.
“Look, I’ve had it with your ‘perfection’ act, Mr. Vaughn. I’ve done this presentation three times now. Three times! What more do you want?”
Instead of yelling, calling me out, or firing me on the spot. Something. Anything. He remained silent. But I saw it: the storm brewing in his dark eyes. And then, in a heartbeat, he was up, moving toward me.
“M-Mr. Vaughn, wh-what are you doing?” Suddenly, all my bravado wilted away as I began retreating while he edged closer.
His gaze dropped to the outfit I wore. It was a white, chiffon blouse and a form-fitting navy skirt that stopped just above my knees, hugging every dip and curve of my body.
“You shouldn’t have worn that dress,” he said. No, growled. His voice was thick, rough, charged with something volatile.
“You shouldn’t even have come to this company.” He raked a hand through his hair again, his frustration palpable. “Christ, Leila…you have no idea what you’ve been doing to me these past three weeks, do you?”
My breath hitched as my back hit the floor-to-ceiling window. I was trapped.
Luca moved closer, his gaze flicking to my lips. Heat flared in the space between us.
“You think you can waltz around those hallways,” he said, “tempting me in those skirts that show off your every curve and expect there not to be consequences?”
Consequences?
What kind of consequences was he talking about?
He closed the remaining distance between us, one hand gripping my waist and pinning me against the window with his body.
I gasped.
Then he lifted a hand, tracing his fingers along my lower lips. There was something fractured in his expression. Something untamed.
Logic screamed at me to break contact. He was my boss. The Alpha. Luca Vaughn. This, whatever this was, could not end well for me.
But logic had already fled the room.
So, when he leaned down and crushed his mouth to mine, I didn’t hesitate. I opened up to him. I let him kiss me like a starving man who’d finally found the one thing he couldn’t live without.
Luca devoured me.
His mouth moved over mine, desperate, commanding. His hands gripped my ass like he owned it. And God, did that turn me on.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back with raw, wild hunger. There was no finesse, just need. Pure, reckless need.
And I would’ve let him take me right there, right now, if the office door hadn’t flung open.
And Victor walked in.
Chapter Five
Luca’s POV
I did not expectto see her…here. Of all places. And of all things, planning Elena’s wedding.
Leila’s face had rooted itself in the deepest part of my mind, haunting me like a ghost that had clawed her way back into reality. Except this time, she wasn’t just a memory. She was real. Tangible. Dangerously so.
I hadn’t been able to think straight since seeing her. Even after she left Moreau Estate, my mind was in a haze. Elena had assaulted me with pointed questions and her wide-eyed assumptions that my sudden appearance meant I was finally invested in the damn circus of a wedding. Apparently, she’d mistaken my presence for participation.
