Page 17 of The Italian's Marriage Bargain

‘Is that a yes?’

The genius of his lovemaking, the mastery of his touch awoke so much more than passion in her. Here was a man who made the terribly complicated straightforward all of sudden, propelled her into a stratosphere where rules didn’t matter, where surely all could be conquered. She had always been passionate about Luca, however misdirected, and though the hate she had felt had shifted now, the passion remained; only this time it looked something suspiciously like love.

‘Is that a yes?’ he demanded again, his voice hoarse, his manhood swollen at her entrance, awaiting her answer.

She felt as if she were falling again, freefalling into dangerous, forbidden but decadently tempting territory, and she waited for her mental safety chute to open, for sanity to prevail, for her usually meticulous and ordered mind to register its protest, to tell her she was falling out of the frying pan into the fire.

Oh, but what a fire.

Luca was the man who could put things to right, the man who had saved her from herself, the man who could give her family the peace they deserved. And as she stared into his eyes the world seemed suddenly to make sense.

Luca held all the answers.

‘Yes.’

The single word simultaneously excited and terrified her. Reeling from her boldness, she made a mental dash for the safety rope, for the back-up chute that must surely be there. But something in his eyes pulled her back, something in the way he held her kept her there, until all she cared about was here and now and not letting this moment end.

And as he thrust inside her, as she welcomed him shamelessly into her sweet oiled warmth, her words were a needless affirmation, her consent already irretrievably delivered.

‘Yes, Luca, I’ll marry you.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘HAVEa drink.’ Luca smiled, his hand resting on Felicity’s thigh as she gazed out of the window. A lump surely as big as the book she’d been pretending to read swelled in her throat as the plane lifted up into the sky, the dimmed cabin lights providing a welcome moment of privacy as she contemplated all she had left behind. ‘I’m sure they can rustle up a couple of vodka and oranges—even a strawberry daiquiri…’ His voice trailed off as the cabin lights flicked on, and he started in concern as he saw her stricken face. ‘I was joking,’ he said. ‘Just trying to make you smile.’

‘I know,’ Felicity admitted, picking up a serviette to blow her nose and then changing her mind. Gone were the days of economy class and paper napkins. Settling for the heavy silk handkerchief Luca pressed into her hand, Felicity blew rather loudly. Luca’s rather startled look caused a reluctant smile to shine through her pain. ‘It’s just hard, leaving them behind.’

‘But you are not leaving your family behind. You can fly back tomorrow—next week if you choose. The world’s a tiny place; you’re only a day and night away.’ His voice grew more solemn. ‘I’m not going to keep you from your family, Felice. I know how important they are.’ She nodded, but tears were too close to permit words, and the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Luca again.

‘As soon as I am back at work I will speak with my lawyers and arrange for the resort to be transferred back to your father. It might take a while, though.’

Felicity looked up sharply. Eternally suspicious, she narrowed her eyes as Luca, for the first time since their meeting, seemed to be stalling for time. But Luca moved quickly to reassure her.

‘You know what lawyers can be like. Nothing happens quickly these days. Surely you know my intentions are true? I have given you my word.’

But was his word enough? She had nothing in writing, just pillow talk and promises. How would that stand up in a court of law?

A shrill, mirthless laugh rang out in her mind.

What court of law?

Her tiny nail scissors weren’t up to Luca’s red tape.

‘That’s not all that’s upsetting you, is it?’

Felicity shrug was non-committal, as his voice dragged her out of her introspection. ‘Isn’t the fact I’m effectively emigrating enough to be going on with?’

‘I guess,’ Luca said gently. The hand that had been resting on her thigh was still there, but, turning to face her, he softly located her lashes with his free hand, his thumb brushing away a salty tear that hovered there. ‘Are you remembering your brother Joseph and when you came to Rome with him?’

How did he know? How could he have known? The agony of his words was a small price to pay for the reward of his insight, but still she held back, quelled her pain and forced a tight smile. ‘It’s silly even comparing it; it’s nothing like back then.’

‘Why do you always do that?’ Luca asked, his voice serious, eyes questioning. ‘Why do you always push me away?’

‘I’m not.’ Felicity shook her head firmly, willing him to change the subject. It was a bone of contention between them lately. Luca, now he had a ring on her finger, assumed he should be privy to her innermost thoughts, but Felicity consistently refused to go there.

Her innermost thoughts were not really up to an open inspection from Luca.

‘You never let me in—never let me know what goes on in that ordered mind of yours,’ Luca pushed. ‘You’re so damned independent. You never let me know what you are really thinking.’

---