Page 19 of His Innocent's Passionate Awakening

Her expression soured and hurt coloured her tone. ‘You think I’m immature. A child in an adult’s body? Is that what you’re saying?’

Luca pressed his lips together, fighting to keep his self-control in check. Her adult body was temptation personified but he had to keep his hands off her. It wouldn’t be fair to take things to another level, not now he knew how limited her experience. He was the first man to kiss her, to touch her, to expose her to male desire. She was like a teenager experiencing her first crush. A physical crush that had to stop before it got started. ‘I’m saying I’m not the right man for you.’

‘Consider my offer withdrawn.’ She folded her arms around her body and sent him a sideways glance. ‘Sorry if I offended you by being so brazen. Believe me, I surprised myself. I don’t know what came over me.’

Luca fought back a wry smile. ‘We should keep kissing to the absolute minimum.’

Artie gave an indifferent shrug but her eyes displayed her disappointment. ‘Fine by me.’

The silence throbbed with a dangerous energy. An energy Luca could feel in every cell of his body. Humming, thrumming sensual energy, awakened, stirred, unsatisfied.

It would be so easy to take back everything he had said and gather her in his arms, to assuage the longing that burned in his body with hot, flicking tongues of flame, to teach her the wonder of sexual compatibility—for he was sure they would be compatible.

He had not felt such electrifying chemistry from kissing someone before. He had not felt such a rush of lust from holding someone close to his body. He had not felt so dangerously tempted to throw caution to the wind and sink his body into the soft silk of another’s.

Artie released her arms from around her middle and absently toyed with her wedding ring. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed.’ Her cheeks reddened and she hastily added, ‘Alone, I mean. I wasn’t suggesting you join—’

‘Goodnight, cara.’

* * *

Artie bolted up the stairs as if she were being chased by a ghost. Eek. How could she have been so gauche as to practically beg Luca to make love to her? She couldn’t understand why she had been so wanton in her behaviour. Was there something wrong with her? Had her lack of socialising with people her own age affected her development? Her body had woken from a long sleep the moment he kissed her at the wedding. His mouth had sent shivers of longing to every pore of her skin, made her aware of her female needs and desires, made her hungry for a deeper, more powerful connection. A physical connection that would ease the tight, dragging ache in her core.

She closed her bedroom door behind her, letting out a ragged breath. Fool. Fool. Fool. He had laid down the rules—a paper marriage with no emotional attachment. A business contract that was convenient and for both parties. But what was convenient about the way she felt about Luca? The heat and fire of his touch made her greedy for more. She had felt his physical response to her, so why was he denying them both the pleasure they both craved?

Because he doesn’t want you to fall in love with him.

Artie walked over to her bed and sank onto the mattress with another sigh. Luca thought her too young and innocent for him, too inexperienced in the ways of the world for their relationship to be on an equal footing. But the way her body responded to him made her feel more than his equal. It made her feel alive and feminine and powerful in a way she had never imagined she could feel.

She looked down at the engagement and wedding rings on her left hand, the symbol of their union as a married couple. She was tied to him by law but not by love. And she was fine with that. Mostly. What she wanted was to be tied to him in desire, to explore the electrifying chemistry between them, to indulge herself in the world of heady sensuality.

Artie bounced off the bed and went to her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the marble basin. Her eyes were overly bright, her lips still pink and swollen from Luca’s passionate kiss. She touched her lower lip with her fingers, amazed at how sensitive it was, as if his kiss had released every one of her nerve endings from a deep freeze.

Artie touched a hand to the ache in the middle of her chest. So, this was what rejection felt like. The humiliation of wanting someone who didn’t want you back.

Why am I so unlucky in the lottery of life?

* * *

Luca wasn’t a drinker, but right then he wanted to down a bottle of Scotch and throw the empty bottle at the wall. He wanted to stride upstairs to Artie’s bedroom and take her in his arms and show her how much he wanted her. He wanted to breathe in the scent of her skin, taste the sweet nectar of her lips, glide his hands over her beautiful body and take them both to paradise. But the hard lessons learned from his father’s and brother’s death had made him super-cautious when it came to doing things that couldn’t be undone.

Making love with Artie would change everything about their relationship. It would change the dynamic between them, pitching them into new territory, dangerous territory that clashed with his six-month time limit.

He had thought himself a good judge of character, someone who didn’t miss important details. And yet he hadn’t picked up on Artie’s social phobia, but it all made perfect sense now. Why she hadn’t been at the hospital when he’d visited her father. Why she’d insisted on the wedding being held at the castello instead of at one of the local churches. Why she had such a guarded air about her, closed off almost, as if she was uncomfortable around people she didn’t know. He still couldn’t get his head around the fact that she had spent ten years living almost in isolation. Ten years! It was unthinkable to someone like him, who was rarely in the same city two nights in a row. He lived out of hotels rather than at his villa in Tuscany. He lived in the fast lane because slowing down made him think too much, ruminate too much, hurt too much.

It was easier to block it out with work.

Work was his panacea for all ills. He had built his father’s business into a behemoth of success. He had brokered deals all over the world and cashed in on every one of them. Big time. He had more money than he knew what to do with. It didn’t buy him happiness but it did buy him freedom. Freedom from the ties that bound others into dead-end jobs, going-nowhere relationships and the drudgery of duty-bound responsibilities.

Luca walked over to the windows of his suite at the castello. The moon was full and cast the castello grounds in an ethereal light. The centuries-old trees, the gnarled vines, the rambling roses were testament to how many generations of Artie’s family had lived and loved here.

Love. The trickiest of emotions. The one he avoided, because loving people and then letting them down was soul destroying. The stuff of nightmares, a living torture he could do without.

Luca watched as a barn owl flew past the window on silent wings. Nature going about its business under the cloak of moonlight. The castello could be restored into a showcase of antiquity. The gardens tended to and nurtured back into their former glory, the ancient vines grafted and replanted to produce award-winning wine. It would cost money...lots of money—money Artie clearly didn’t have. But it would be his gift to her for the time she had given up to be married to him.

Six months, and day one was just about over. A day when he had discovered his bride was an introverted social phobic who had never been kissed until his mouth touched hers. A young woman who had not socialised with her peers outside the walls of the castello. A young woman who was still a virgin at the age of twenty-five. A modern-day Sleeping Beauty who had yet to be woken to the pleasures of sex.

Stop thinking about sex.

---