Page 8 of The Sicilian’s Deal For 'I Do'

Afraid of how much she wanted Luca. Of how she turned to sun-warmed butter in his arms. Of how he made her forget the past: her anger, her hurt, the bitterness of betrayal. Of how easily he made her forget that he was untrustworthy and despicable.

Of how, when she was in his arms, she wasn’t capable of rational thought.

But what would happen if she went to his home?

She groaned audibly, in the safety of her bedroom long after the charity event had concluded, staring at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror her mother had had installed. ‘If one can see oneself often, one is less inclined to have the second biscuit, darling.’

Mia was getting married in two months, and she was a virgin. Not by design, but because her parents were strict and protective, and Mia had never been given the freedom to date. Or was there another reason Jennifer had been so controlling in that regard? Any time a man had so much as looked at Mia, Jennifer had been sure to intervene, to tell Mia she was imagining it or that he couldn’t be trusted. Mia had taken those messages to heart—was it any wonder she had very little confidence with the opposite sex?

She was getting married with the sole purpose of having children. For her father, it was about the business, for her husband-to-be, it was also about the business, but for Mia, it began and ended with family—the family she had craved since she’d been a little girl and her parents had died, and she’d known the strange no-man’s-land of a care home before Gianni and Jennifer had adopted her.

She wanted a family of her own, and Lorenzo could provide that.

But she wasn’t an idiot. In order to have children, she’d first need to have sex, and wouldn’t it be nice—preferable, anyway—to have some experience before surrendering to her marital bed? Lorenzo left her cold. She didn’t desire him at all, and she was pretty sure that was mutual, whereas Luca had the ability to turn her blood to lava with a single look.

Only Luca couldn’t be trusted. Not again.

Was there a way to have her cake and eat it too?

Mia stood up straighter, her eyes narrowing, thinking of how much had changed for her in the past twelve months.

Back then, Mia had been vulnerable, too eager to please everyone, so she didn’t question, didn’t negotiate, didn’t do anything except allow herself to be bowled over by desire for Luca. But now? She knew what he was like. She wouldn’t be lied to, she wouldn’t be hurt, she wouldn’t be tricked.

Could she even play him at his own game, and win?

The idea sent sparks of anticipation through her.

What if she were to go to him and take exactly what she wanted, then walk away without a backwards glance, just as he had? What if she were to go to him anddemandanswers for what he’d done? All year, she’d wonderedwhy. Over and over, the single word had rattled through her brain, tormenting her, because she couldn’t understand how any person could be so evil as to no-show their own wedding.

If she went to him, could she take what she wanted—indulge her desireandget the answers she desperately wanted—and emerge unscathed?

Of course you can, a voice from deep in Mia’s soul chided, and she wanted to believe that voice, that promise.

Mia’s heart began to rush, and her fingers trembled with the possibilities before her.

She would never have chased him down, but having this opportunity laid out before her, wouldn’t she be a fool not to take it up? It would be one night, in which he was completely fair game, and then she’d disappear, never seeing him again, the whole matter put to rest behind her, once and for all. Allowing her to marry with a clean slate?

‘Argh!’ she cried into the room, for surely even contemplating this was madness! And yet she found the idea impossible to dismiss, impossible to let go of. And so, the next night, having said goodnight to her parents and walked up to her bedroom, in the time-honoured tradition of overprotected children everywhere, she silently crept out of her window, climbed down the trellis and walked quickly to the street to wait for a ride-share, adrenaline making her blood roar.

He’d expected her to come.

He’d wanted her.

But it was only when Mia didn’t arrive at his home that Luca realised just how much he’d been looking forward to possessing her after all. She’d lit a fire of need in his belly that night by his car, a year ago, and no one else had extinguished it since. It was her innocence, and the vulnerability he sensed within her, that stirred something up in his chest. But those feelings were at odds with his anger towards her and her family for the scam they’d been running.

Innocent? Hardly.

She played the part, but Mia Marini had been all too willing to con him into a billion-dollar hole. Oh, Luca could have afforded it, but that wasn’t the point. He was nobody’s fool. He’d worked hard and considered at every turn that it was his pride and reputation on the line—the reputation he’d built as a tribute to his late mother, and to make his father eat crow. He wasn’t about to buy a worthless company and have the world—his father, particularly—laugh at his stupidity.

Nonetheless, his anger towards Mia now had as much to do with his disappointment that she hadn’t arrived at his home as it did with her original betrayal.

His body was alive and waiting, ready, desperately hungry for her. Yet she didn’t show up. He cursed her for yet another sin, even as he dreamed of that kiss at the rooftop bar, and craved more, so, so much more.

She passed six churches in the two blocks before reaching his inner-city villa, and, as the car pulled up, she wondered if there’d been a sign there for her to stop, reconsider what she was doing. To go and worship at an actual altar rather than the altar of Luca’s physical perfection and the possibility of sexual satisfaction. But Mia was feeling reckless. A storm was brewing, more powerful than any cyclone, and she wouldn’t—couldn’t—run away from it.

Doubts, however, rolled like thunder through her belly as she stepped out and looked around, awed by the beauty of this street, with ancient cobblestones and beautiful trees, growing lush and green towards the historic façades of these homes. She moved quickly, unwilling to be seen. Sicilia was surprisingly small, and her parents were well known, an old and powerful family. It would be just her luck for some cousin of her father’s to see Mia and mention it in passing. It was one of the reasons her gilded cage was so effective. There were not many places Mia could go without meeting someone who knew her parents and would report back. That was just how it worked around here.

And so she had to move quickly; there was no time for regrets.

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