Page 26 of The Sicilian’s Deal For 'I Do'

‘You will not need clothes,’ he drawled, reaching across and wrapping his hand over her thigh.

Anticipation flooded Mia’s veins. ‘Luca...’ Her breath hitched. What had she wanted to say?

‘I have arranged everything. Trust me.’

Her eyes flicked to his and then away again, a frown tugging at her lips.

He was the stuff of fantasies, but surely not a man to be trusted after what happened a year ago, and Mia needed to remember that. She had to keep her wits about her, to limit what they were doing to the incredible, mind-blowing sex, and nothing more. This wasn’t her real life.

They arrived at the villa as the sun was dipping low in the sky and it was the most stunningly picturesque view, the gradients quite mesmerising. She stood on the front step, staring outwards, towards the mountains that were welcoming the sun with open arms for a night’s rest, and sighed.

The future was murky, but, right now, everything was just as it needed to be. Recognising that unlocked a part of her to fully enjoy this. She couldn’t marry Lorenzo without getting Luca fully out of her system. It wouldn’t have been fair to Lorenzo or herself to bring this kind of desire for another man into their marriage. So she’d enjoy this week with Luca and happily farewell him at the end of it, ready to move on with her life and put Luca where he belonged: properly in the past. But rather than thinking of him and feeling a sense of rejection and hurt, she’d look back at what they’d shared as the birth of something within Mia—her sensual awakening, her self-confidence as a woman. These were aspects of Mia that had been totally neglected.

She would always be grateful to Luca for drawing them into the light.

‘Ready?’ He reached down and linked their fingers. She stared at the sky a moment longer, thinking about sunsets and endings and the promise of new beginnings, and then turned, blinked up at him as if seeing Luca for the first time, because if she was completely his for the next week then he was also completely hers.

‘Yes,’ came the breathy response.

‘Good. Because I know just what I want to do with you first.’

Her heart was pounding as he led her through the beautiful old villa, but rather than guiding Mia to the bedroom they’d shared a few nights ago, he showed her out onto the terrace, to the stunning infinity pool with views towards the orange-hued sky, and darkening ocean.

‘Turn around.’ His voice was thick, hoarse.

She did as he said, her heart pounding. His fingers caught the zip at the top of her back and drew it down, loosening the dress she wore, until it fell away from her body altogether, leaving her exposed in just her underwear. She was outside, visible to the world, and yet the world couldn’t see into the villa—it was, as Luca had told her, a completely private stretch of beach, there was no need to feel embarrassed, and yet usually Mia would have been riddled with self-consciousness. Only something about Luca, and the way he responded to her, was empowering and intoxicating and for the first time in her adult life she revelled in her nakedness, in being naked for him.

There was a rustle of clothing and then Luca’s naked body was at her back, holding her, arms around her waist a moment, chin pressed to her shoulder. She trembled, knees weak. He removed her bra and underpants and Mia felt a thrill of power.

‘You are beautiful,’ he said with wonder, turning her to face him, eyes hooded. ‘So beautiful. And all mine.’

‘For one week,’ she reminded him firmly, warmth spreading through her. When he called her beautiful, she really believed it. Years of conditioning by her mother seemed to ebb away.

His eyes flared and then he lifted her, holding her against his chest, carrying her towards the pool and stepping in. He was so strong. Not once did he appear to struggle, to stumble, but rather stepped easily, down, and down again, until Mia was enveloped by the delightfully warm water and sensations flooded her from head to toe—his nakedness, so close, his warmth, the water, it was all utterly mind-blowing.

And when he kissed her, she was already at a fever pitch, the whirlpool of longing having begun to swirl from the moment he walked into her office, and it hadn’t stopped all afternoon. When he kissed her, she felt beautiful, she felt warm all over, she felt like the most precious, fragile yet strong person in the world, and she never wanted it to stop—not now, and deep down, Mia admitted only to her most secret self, not even in a week.

Their hands were laced on the top of the table as the older woman brought out a platter of risotto, scampi and salad.

‘My housekeeper,’ Luca had said on Mia’s last visit, when the sound of the door closing had alerted them to someone else being in their space and Mia had panicked. ‘When I am at the villa, she comes for two hours each night. She can be trusted, Mia. She’s worked for me a long time, and before that she was a friend of my mother’s. She will not tell a soul that you are here.’

There was that word again:trust.

Mia smiled at the older woman as she bustled about with a wine bottle and then, when they were alone once more on the starlit terrace, the smell of night-flowering jasmine and honeysuckle heavy in the air, Mia pulled her hand back, flexing her fingers a little to remove the tingling effect of Luca’s touch, and fixed him with a level stare.

‘Doyoutrust her?’

His eyes locked to Mia’s, then he reached for his wine glass, taking a sip of the crisp, white liquid before responding. ‘Catarina? With my life.’

Mia frowned.

‘You weren’t expecting that answer?’

‘No.’ She speared a scampi and tasted it. Delicious.

‘Because...’ he prompted, when Mia didn’t respond.

Her lips tugged to one side. ‘You don’t strike me as a man who trusts anyone.’ She thought about that a little more. ‘Or who lets people get close.’

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