Forbidden: House of Sin

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Forbidden: House of Sin Page 24

by Elisabeth Naughton


  I shivered because he’d definitely penetrated my mind. My mind, my body, and my soul.

  “And for the record,” he whispered, “you are amazing. What you gave me…” He swallowed at my back. “You have no idea what that meant to me.”

  Love swirled inside me. So much it made my eyes water. I wanted to tell him, but I was scared. This was new to me. It was so fast. I was sure he cared deeply for me, but if he didn’t love me back yet, I didn’t want to say the words. I’d save them and savor them and share them when I knew he felt the same.

  “I’m here for you,” I said softly, tightening my hand over his. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you need from me, you have it. You have me. No matter what happens.”

  His arms drew me tighter against him, and I felt his body tremble as he buried his face in my hair.

  Whatever had pushed him to the edge earlier was still there. It still had a hold on him. And that scared me. Especially because I was almost sure I heard him whisper, “I hope I still have you after tomorrow.”

  * * *

  He held me all night long. Closer than he had before. As if he was afraid if he let go of me for even a second, I might slip away.

  We ate breakfast on the Club Del Doge’s terrace overlooking the Grand Canal and the domed roof of the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute. Luc barely ate, and when he wasn’t eating, he was holding my hand, bringing my fingers to his lips for a kiss, smiling sadly at me as we tried to enjoy our last morning in Venice.

  Stress hung on his shoulders like a heavy weight, a stress I felt on my own shoulders as we packed and left the hotel. Luc loaded our luggage in a water taxi, but he didn’t try to get me into the boat. Instead, he took my hand and led me through the city to the Piazzale Roma, a square at the entrance to Venice, where a car and our luggage waited. Unlike yesterday, it wasn’t a romantic stroll through the city with laughter and steamy kisses in dark corners, though. Luc barely spoke, and the closer we got to the car, the tighter his muscles grew as if every step was leading him toward impending doom.

  The car was a sleek black Mercedes S-Coupe that I knew had to cost a fortune. Two men dressed in slick black suits waited by the car for us. Luc let go of my hand and shook each of theirs, speaking in Italian. The three conversed for several minutes, but I had no idea what they said. The only word I caught was ciao as they waved and crossed the parking lot to another black Mercedes—this one not nearly as nice as the one they’d left us.

  Whatever they’d discussed had caused Luc’s jaw to tighten even more, though. With a hand at my lower back, he walked me around to the passenger side, opened the door, and helped me in. Seconds later, he joined me in the driver’s seat but didn’t immediately start the car. He just stared out the window at the bustling tourists, with his hands on his thighs as if he didn’t want to leave.

  My heart contracted, and I reached across the console and slid my hand over his on the thigh of the soft jeans he wore.

  “You know,” I said, trying to sound sunny and optimistic when I felt anything but. “I was thinking about those boats you said you built. I’d love to see them. What do you say we blow off seeing the folks, and you take me to your hideout in the tropics instead? I’m sure it’d be a lot more fun.”

  He didn’t laugh as I’d hoped he would. Instead, his eyes slid closed, and that weight seemed to push harder against his shoulders. “You don’t even like water.”

  I wrapped my fingers around his. “I could get used to it. When you keep me distracted, I think I do pretty well near the water.”

  He turned his hand over with a heavy sigh and closed his fingers around mine. Heat engulfed my skin and sent a tingle up my arm. I held on as he flipped our wrists and took control, pinning my hand between his and his leg.

  He blinked and stared at our joined hands for several seconds. “I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”

  The hair on my spine prickled, and worry tightened my gut.

  “While we’re in Tuscany, I need you to do exactly as I say. No arguments, no questions. Stay with me or my mother or sister at all times. Do not”—he lifted his gaze to the steering wheel—“and I mean do not go off with any other person alone under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

  The distress I heard in his voice made my pulse tick up. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but my thoughts immediately spun toward Gio.

  I hadn’t broached the topic of Gio and Laney with him yet. I’d been too afraid to bring it up so early in our relationship. My hands began to sweat. I was scared to death to bring it up now, when he was already so distraught. “Okay. I won’t.”

  Luc’s jaw turned to a slice of steel beneath the day’s worth of scruff on his tan skin. “I know I told you that I like it when you challenge me. I do, but not while we’re at my parents’ home. I’ll try to stay near you as much as I can. If I have to leave you, stay in your room and keep the door locked. Hopefully we won’t be there more than a night or two.”

  My heart raced as I stared at his profile. Was Gio at his parents’ home? He’d told me Gio was in the Caribbean. I couldn’t see him taking me anywhere near Gio, but if that wasn’t the threat, then what? The dangerous picture he was painting of his family didn’t fit the image I had in my mind from meeting his mother. Yes, she’d been a little intense, but the emotion in her pale eyes when she’d looked at Luc told me she loved her son. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say you’re scaring me a little.”

  “Good. You should be scared. You have no idea what you’re walking into. If it were up to me…” His words died off as he looked out the driver-side window. “It’s not up to me.”

  “Luc.” I squeezed his hand, hating the haunted sound of his voice. Hating that he wouldn’t look at me. Hating even more that he wouldn’t tell me what was really bothering him. I’d hoped last night after I’d given myself to him that he’d open up to me, but he hadn’t. I was trying to be patient. I was trying not to push, but I couldn’t stand seeing him so on edge. I laid my other hand on top of our joined ones. “Everything will be okay. It’s just a family visit, right?”

  He finally glanced toward me, and when my eyes met his, I saw what I’d missed earlier.

  Fear.

  He was afraid. This man who was so confident and strong and always in control was terrified. And that realization didn’t just send my own anxiety scrambling, it made my heart race as if the hounds of hell were after me.

  “Yeah,” he said as he stared at me with those troubled eyes. “Yeah, everything will be fine.”

  He let go of me and started the car. I drew my hands back and sank into the Italian leather racing seat, but his words didn’t calm me, because I knew he was lying.

  He was lying to both of us. And I had no idea what that meant.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luc

  The three-hour trip from Venice to my family home outside Florence was complete hell.

  I found an American music station on the radio, hoping it would keep Natalie distracted from my growing anxiety with every passing mile. The worried looks she repeatedly shot my way told me I did a craptastic job hiding my stress.

  I kept my eyes on the road as I drove, pointing out towns and landmarks we passed. She was quiet beside me, muttering comments like “That’s pretty,” or “Very interesting,” instead of asking for more detail as she would normally do. I knew I’d scared her with my harsh warnings, and I felt bad for causing her any angst, but I needed her to get it.

  If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be making this trip, but it wasn’t up to me. Now that my father knew about her, if I didn’t follow his order, he’d go after her. And I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t make her any more of a target than I already had. But I couldn’t keep her safe in Tuscany if she didn’t listen to me. Now more than ever, I needed her to submit to me in every way so nothing would go wrong and I could get her out of this godforsaken country as quickly as possible.

  I just hoped like hel
l she didn’t see or witness anything at my parents’ home that would put her in even more danger.

  As we neared the outskirts of Florence, the hair on my arms and legs began to tingle. Natalie sat up straighter when we passed a sign that read Firenze.

  “I don’t suppose we’ll have much time to check out Florence, will we?” she asked. “I’d love to see the David.”

  There were a number of things I’d like to show her in Florence—the Ponte Vecchio, the Uffizi Museum, the Pitti Palace and the Boboli Gardens—and I knew she’d enjoy each and every one. I knew I’d enjoy seeing them through her eyes just as I’d enjoyed all our touristy stops in Rome and Venice. But it wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t keeping her in Italy a moment longer than I had to. As soon as this little visit with my parents was over, I was getting her back to New York. And from there…

  Shit. From there I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was going to do with her or how I was going to keep her safe now that the family knew about her.

  “Sto rincoglionito,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the road.

  “What did you say?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Nothing.” I couldn’t exactly tell her I’d just admitted I was out of my fucking mind, even though I was. “And no, we don’t have time to tour Florence. Maybe next time.”

  More like not in a million fucking years.

  She sighed and continued to look out the window.

  Twenty minutes later, as I pulled off the road onto a long private drive that wound up my parents’ mountain, my chest felt as if it were being squeezed by a boa constrictor. Clenching the wheel in both hands, I breathed slowly through my nose and fought the urge to drive head-on into a tree trunk.

  Mountain was a loose term. The Apennine Mountains that formed the spine of Italy were more like rolling hills near Florence rather than the sharp, jagged Alps we’d seen from Venice. My parents’ “mountain” happened to be the highest point in the area just south of Florence—and the most secluded, surrounded by thick forests, vineyards, and olive groves.

  “Oh my goodness,” Natalie muttered, sitting up straighter in her seat as we neared the top of the rise and my parents’ villa came into view. She turned shocked, deep blue eyes my way. “You didn’t say you grew up in a freakin’ castle.”

  I shifted in my seat and worked like hell to relax my jaw. I hadn’t mentioned it because I didn’t even like to think about this place, and I’d never thought I’d be bringing her here. “It’s not that impressive. It’s what’s left of an ancient castle. What you see there was the keep. The wall crumbled hundreds of years ago.”

  “It’s incredible.”

  I didn’t think so. To me, it was a prison, but I kept my opinion to myself, knowing it would only unleash a thousand questions I wouldn’t answer.

  I followed the road as it curved into the circular drive. A tall fountain sprayed water high into the air, and trees that were bigger than when I’d left surrounded us. Pulling to a stop between the fountain and the house, I looked up at the ancient structure, trying to see what she saw.

  The aged stones rose two stories, with two tall towers rising on each corner of the structure, connected by battlements. There were very few arched windows on the front for security reasons, mostly up high, and someone had added window boxes below each one. Pink, red, and white flowers spilled out onto the warm rocks. My gaze slid lower, to the massive arched, double front door with iron scrollwork, the twelve steps that rose from the drive to the door, and the large urns—two at the top of the stairs and two at the bottom—also overflowing with flowers, making the place look almost homey.

  Almost. Too bad I knew what kind of shit went on behind closed doors in this place.

  My anxiety hit epic proportions as I killed the ignition. “Remember what I said. No arguing with me. Follow every order I give you and stick close to me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  My head swiveled her way. A warm, mischievous smile slid across her pretty face. “Not convincing enough? Would yes, master work better?”

  My eyes narrowed. “You’re teasing me.”

  Hers sparked. “I might be. Like it?”

  Hell yes, I liked it. I liked her. Too damn much. I just hoped after this fucking trip, she still liked me.

  I was just about to give in to the urge and lean toward her to show her how much I liked her when one side of the double doors on the house pulled open, and I spotted a young woman with a lithe build and long dark hair highlighted with one white streak rushing down the steps toward the car.

  “Luc!” she yelled through the windows.

  My anxiety shot sky-high when I realized this was just the first of many family reunions. As much as I wanted to sit in this car and never get out, I was out of options.

  “Stay with me at all times,” I said to Natalie as I opened my door.

  Ariana rushed around the car and caught me in a hug before I’d even closed the door. Warmth flowed through me. Of all my family members she was my favorite. And I’d barely seen her in the last twelve years.

  “I’m so glad you’re home!” she cried in Italian, hugging me tight, then drawing back to peer up at me with wide brown eyes. “But I’m still mad at you for staying away so long.”

  “I know,” I responded in English, not wanting to leave Natalie out. I was aware of her every move as she climbed out of the passenger side and closed the door to look over the roof of the car at us.

  “You got old,” Ariana teased, following my lead and lapsing into English.

  “And you got tall.” She had to be at least five-nine now. The white streak in her hair was also more prominent, starting near her part to fall down the left side of long dark locks, no doubt making her stand out among the crowd. The last time I’d been in Italy, three years ago, she’d been off at school. Before that… I racked my brain…

  Shit. I hadn’t seen her in six damn years. Back then, she’d been just a teenager and Natalie’s height.

  I glanced over the hood of the car toward Natalie. “This is my little sister, Ariana. Though not as little as before. Aria, this is Natalie.”

  Ariana slipped an arm around my waist and walked with me around the car to meet Natalie. “Mamma said you were bringing a woman, but I didn’t believe it.” She let go of me as we stopped near Natalie. Ariana held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Luc’s never brought a woman home before.”

  Natalie lifted one brow and glanced at me with a smug grin. The victorious look sent heat all through my groin. I sucked in a breath because that kind of heat would only get me—and her—into trouble here.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Natalie said, shaking Ariana’s hand. “This is a beautiful place.”

  Ariana opened her mouth—probably to give Natalie a history lesson on the property—but before she could get a single word out, the double front doors to my right opened, and the rest of my family spilled down the steps.

  “Bastardo!” Dante rushed toward me with a laugh and caught me in a tight hug, his mismatched eyes—one a deep brown, the other a lighter green-hazel combination—sparking with excitement. “I thought you’d died and gone to hell,” he teased in Italian.

  That pressure tightened around my chest. I was in hell. Or about to enter it.

  My gaze immediately skipped to Natalie’s bright smile as she spoke with my sister. She was the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. An angel in a sea of all this wicked depravation. I just hoped to God she stayed innocent, and that by bringing her here, I wasn’t corrupting all that goodness I loved in her so much.

  “Not dead,” I managed, again in English, patting Dante on the back. He’d grown too. At twenty-four, he was nearly as tall as me now. His thick dark hair—shaggy and hanging around his chiseled face—and athletic build were the same, though. “At least not yet.”

  Footsteps sounded on the steps, and I glanced past Dante as my mother approached. She held out her arms. “There’s my boy,” she said in English. “Come and give your mamma a
kiss.”

  The tight ball of nerves in my gut urged me to grab Natalie and run, but I knew we were already trapped. I couldn’t get out of this any more than I could get out of my fucking position with Covet. And I didn’t want to start this trip off on the wrong foot by causing problems. I had to be on my best behavior so nothing would happen to Natalie.

  I let go of Dante and moved toward my mother. “Mamma.”

  She grasped my face and kissed both my cheeks then drew back and looked up at me with pale eyes. “I knew you’d be a smart boy.” Letting go of me, my mother angled slightly away, and I noticed a young blonde woman behind her. “This is Maricella. Dante’s friend.”

  The way my mother said friend told me exactly what this woman was to Dante. My gut tightened even more as I reached out a hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You as well.” Maricella didn’t shake my offered hand, just bowed her head, careful not to make eye contact with me. But I saw the way her gaze skipped past me, toward Dante, and the way she lowered her head even more in response to their unspoken communication, then silently stepped back up the stairs away from the group as if she’d imposed on something she shouldn’t.

  I glanced at my brother, and my anxiety melded with a simmering anger I knew I had to keep under wraps. But, fuck, I didn’t want this girl anywhere near Natalie.

  That pressure in my chest squeezed so hard, I wasn’t sure I could continue to breathe. I looked toward Natalie, still speaking with my sister, and wondered how far we could run before we’d be found. Then I heard my father clear his throat from the base of the steps, and everything inside me turned to ice.

  Slowly, I looked his way. My father’s hair was more silver than black now, but his gray eyes—exactly like mine, even down to the same coloboma iris defect in his left eye—were as hard and cold as I’d ever seen them. He motioned me forward like a fucking child.

  “So the prodigal son finally returns home,” he mocked in Italian with clear contempt.

 

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