Lucca's Lust: The Luminara Series Book 3

by SJ Molloy

  Her saturated tank clings to her breasts, showing the outline of her sexy curves. Panting, breathing fast, chest heaving up and down. Christ! I wonder if this is the look she will have after I give her a workout in my bed.

  I offer to get them water because if I stay here watching the sweat glisten on her skin, I will take her upstairs and fuck her hard into a deep coma, and it will give her the perfect opportunity to catch up on her sleep. Giving myself a shake, a wicked smile curves my lips. This girl gets more appealing every time I see her.

  She walks off with her bottle of water, not before I shoot her a dimpled smile and silently tell her she looks hot as fuck. I watch her perfect, tight little ass in those fitness shorts, which look like they have been painted on her, her hair wet and swaying down her back with every movement. I visualise pulling on that teasing ponytail and yanking her back to my mouth.

  How am I supposed to get work done now? I cannot fucking concentrate. Instead, I head to my room and take a long, cool shower and then head to the study afterwards. I cannot help myself but look at the top of a pile of paperwork on top of Nonno’s desk.

  Guest registration and booking confirmation from the associated travel agents.

  I open up the top file … Lexi Robertson … D.O.B … address … email address … contact number. It is all here, booked under her name. Alexis Evangeline Robertson … Preferred name: Lexi Robertson.

  Lexi Robertson.

  Lexi Robertson.

  Lexi Robertson.

  I quietly say it and love the way it sounds. Now, I will never forget. Avoiding breaching guest privacy, I close the folder back over. All I needed was her surname to play around with in my head. I could have easily asked Mark when I called him or checked my employee database at the club … I am not sure why I did not.

  She is beautiful Lexi to me. I guess that was all I really needed to know.

  An hour later after checking in with Marco on how his meeting went with Dino and looking over the plans, I walk towards the lounge area. The ringing of my phone alerts me.

  It is my papa. He wants to know all about the mysterious and beautiful girl Nonna has told him about. Of course he does. That is the thing when being part of such a big family, very close family. No one can bloody hold their fucking water. You leak, then the fucking whole family knows your business. Not that it matters because I would have told him about Lexi anyway.

  “Papa, I will call you back,” I say before hanging up.

  My eyes devour the sight of Lexi standing in front of me. Breathtaking. The air leaves my lungs once more.

  Bello. Beautiful.

  Stupefacente. Stunning.

  Elegante. Elegant.

  I fixate my eyes on hers, and I am so fucking happy to see a smile in her eyes. She is pleased to see me. She looks like a fucking angel standing in a blue chiffon dress, sweet yet sexy, just above her knees. Her hair tumbles in sexy waves around her shoulders and down her arms, her lips glossy, tongue darting out to dip into the corner of her lips.

  Oh please … she is asking for it now. My teeth could suck on that lip all night long if she would let me. I only hope she does not turn me away and refuse a date with me.

  “You look stunning, absolutely beautiful,” I say, walking towards her and kissing both her cheeks.

  “Um … thank you. You look … um … nice too,” she stutters. Too fucking cute. I cannot help the laugh that escapes my mouth. I love cute Lexi. I guess I should be pleased she is attracted to me, or thinks I look nice. Nice. I like it. It is obviously the feminine way of saying she thinks I look good.

  She seems to exude a little confidence tonight. Something seems different about her. I am not sure if it is courage or she now feels comfortable, but I like it a hell of a lot. Her eyes are not wandering like they normally do; even her posture seems more poised. I am relieved that she has come to a decision about my proposal. I wait for her to use the bathroom, and then we greet Hazel in the lounge.

  “Doc, you are killing me here.” I sigh impatiently when Hazel uses the restroom herself.

  “I’ll go on a date with you, just a date, but … not until we get home. It’s not fair to Hazel,” she says quietly.

  Christ, the breath I was holding on to just left my lungs as I gasp for air. I have felt suspense on numerous occasions, especially securing huge business deals, but nothing comes close to the suspense and feeling of relief in this moment. I have just secured the biggest fucking deal of my life … a date with Lexi.

  Lifting her hand to my mouth, I tell her I will wait and promise I will not hurt her. She seems to like when I say that word: promise. Her eyes smile and she glows with a serene look on her face. Getting it off her shoulders seems to have relaxed her because she is drinking her cocktails and unwinding and acting more carefree that I have seen of her in the last two days.

  All the while I am thinking how I can make it possible for her to go on a date here in Tuscany with me. I know I told her I would wait, but I am desperate for her company alone. I glance between her and Hazel and feel a familiar stab of jealously that Hazel has all her attention, which is wrong. I know it is, but I cannot help it.

  I also think it is not fair on Hazel that I steal her friend away from her, so I will need to think of something that will get me alone with Lexi, something that will not upset her or Hazel. I smile and watch the both of them talking, laughing, and enjoying their drinks.

  But shit, the colour seems to fall from Lexi’s pretty face. Almost like a switch, she has gone from laughing and being rosy cheeked to looking ill and worried. She stands, unbalanced on her feet, and sways. All the alcohol, lack of sleep and food, and that intense workout today, no wonder she is dizzy.

  Shit. I panic. Her body goes limbless and her legs come away from under her. I grab her before she hits the floor. Hazel squeals and I gasp. She has passed out. Within seconds there is lots of commotion from Hazel and my grandparents. I do not even entertain it. She needs her bed to sleep it off.

  I scoop her in my arms and start to walk away. Hazel is shouting at me as I do, but I tell her to calm down. She advises us all that Lexi has a habit of fainting, that she needs to lie flat and sleep it off. I tell Hazel to come with me, that I will carry her upstairs. She picks up Lexi’s bag for me. I look at Lexi, eyes closed, cheeks pale, mouth parted, which tugs on my fucking heart to see her like this.

  We try to wake her. I whisper against her head, rub my thumb across her eyebrow, but nothing. Hazel tries to wake her by gently shaking her, but she is out cold. With every stride I take, I hear her stirring. A soft little groan escapes her mouth, followed by the words must run, so I know she will come to soon. My grandparents follow us, my nonno appearing very distressed, but all I focus on is Lexi. Helping Lexi.

  Her delicate fingers curl around my arms, and she buries her head against my chest and it feels perfect. Perfect other than the fact that I am so sorry she feels like this, and I just want to help her.

  Once we get her into the room, I place her on the bed and lean over the top of her, calling her name until I see her fluttering her eyes. Thank fuck!

  “Where am I? Have you taken me? Am I going to die?” She whimpers.

  What the fuck?

  “No. Jesus, no. Why would I want to do that? Thank God you are okay. You had us all worried. Do you know where you are?” I ask her. Once we establish she knows where she is, I calm her and caress her. She complains her head hurts. I explain she is dehydrated and collapsed, which freaks her out even more.

  Sliding my hands off her cheeks, I talk with my grandparents. I tell them she has overdone it today and I am not leaving her. I will stay with her, and they insist on staying too. I advise they should go back and attend to the guests. I have not even considered that Hazel will want to stay. Right now all I want is to stay and look after her. She needs me. I desperately want to help her, and I know I can take good care of her. I do not even have to reiterate that to my grandparents; they agree.

  I help Lexi sit up so she c
an take some painkillers Nonna passes over with water. Hazel watches in amazement. I am not sure if she is pissed off I am trying to take over, or if she is pleased I am caring for her friend.

  Either way, I do not care. I know I am better staying with her and I am exactly what she needs right now. I shoot Nonna a look, tilting my head towards Hazel, so they try and convince her to go and leave me alone with Lexi.

  Thankfully she takes the hint and eventually convinces Hazel to go. Although, she does not seem chirpy about it one little bit, but Lexi agrees, so she reluctantly does go, not before firing me one of her death stares. How the fuck does a five foot skinny blonde make you feel like she is scarier and has more power than the Devil himself? Jesus.

  Now on our own, I stroke her, wipe her tears from her cheeks, and soothe her. She is still embarrassed about causing a drama downstairs, but I reassure her not to worry. Taking aside her misfortune of feeling ill, drunken Lexi is very cute. She is like sweet, sober Lexi tenfold, except she is slightly slurring her words which I smile at. It is another special side of Lexi I get to be a part of.

  For Lexi’s sake, I wish right now she was not suffering, and I do not want to feel like this, but I am only glad it is nothing too serious. At least she can sleep it off. While I stare at the distress in her eyes, she frowns and closes them tight, taking a turn for the worst. Shit! She warns me in enough time so I can roll her to the edge of the bed. The poor girl vomits everywhere.

  I take it back. This is serious. I cannot do enough for her here, while I am thinking drunk Lexi is cute, she is extremely ill and uncomfortable. Christ! I attend to her the best way I can by brushing her teeth, cleaning her up, and stroking her softly to reassure she will be okay. Right now I think her mortification makes her more ill than the alcohol in her empty stomach.

  “You cannot sleep here tonight. Come on.” There is no way I am allowing her to sleep here tonight. I lift her up and carry her to my suite. Reaching the door she asks me what “La Fiducia” means. My heart must be hammering against her small body because my pulse just hitched up a notch. Staring at her with warm loving eyes, I tell her it means “The one to trust,” hoping she gets my silent message that I very much want her to trust me.

  I settle her on my bed and offer to have food brought up, which she declines. I like stubborn Lexi, also very cute. Although, it is concerning me that she has nothing in her stomach. After making the call to Nonno to fill him in and to tell Hazel to come here, I kick off my shoes and lie beside her. There is no way in hell I am leaving her on her own in case she is sick again.

  Lifting the comforter, I wrap it over her and wrap my arm across her body. God, she feels good beside me. Feeling her trembling, I rub her skin, caress her, and then place my head near the crook of her neck, stroking her hair.

  “Please, trust me. I have got you … I promise,” I whisper, meaning every word. She relaxes, a soft sigh leaving her lips. Moving a loose curl off her cheek, she says the sweetest thing.

  “A promise is a promise …” It is low and sleepy. I almost missed it. She drifts off to sleep but I stay awake long after, listening to her quiet breathing, inhaling her sexy feminine perfume, feeling the heat from her body, and whispering endless promises to her against the palm of her hand which I have lifted to my mouth to kiss. I know she cannot hear me as she is deep in sleep, but I do not care. I want to promise her everything I can.

  It feels so nice having the privilege of such a beautiful and sweet woman lying next to me, and a few days ago when she blew me off in the clinic, I never would have imagined that she would be wrapped in my arms like this so soon.

  Tonight is not exactly how I thought it would go, and it most certainly is not ideal for Lexi. Her sweet little head will be pounding in the morning, but I am so relieved she agreed to a date and that she is not protesting me taking care of her.

  I spend the next while feathering light strokes across her skin and twirling the bottom of her hair through my fingers. Beginning to doze off, feeling a warm rush of contentment, Hazel falls through the main door to the suite at some point and bangs on the bedroom door, startling me.

  Opening the door, she is singing—no slurring—a version of an Italian classic which she murders. She staggers in, shoving a pair of heeled shoes in my chest.

  “Where’s my…” hiccup “…my little wallaby, Roo Roo…” hiccup “…I need to look after her. Franco…” hiccup “…said she was sick. She needs a bottle of wazzer.” Hazel is pissed as well. Christ! I cannot help but laugh.

  “Did you say she needs a bottle of wazzer?” I ask, allowing her past to bounce off the doorframe.

  “Yeah, water, that is what I said. She needs to drink up some wazzer…” hiccup “… no water. That’s what I mean.”

  I place my finger to my mouth and hush her. I do not want her to wake up Lexi. She needs to sleep it off.

  “Awe, look my little cubalub is sleeping and still wearing her fork … I mean frock,” she says, grabbing my arm for support.

  “Hazel it is late. She had a drink and I have left some water next to her bed. She is sound asleep. I do not think you should wake her. What room do you want to sleep in?” I ask, rubbing my brow.

  She hiccups and shrugs, so I lead her to a spare room, put on the light, place her shoes down, and tell her I will be back with water for her. Downstairs in the kitchen area of the suite, I grab some bottles of water and give one to Hazel before she conks.

  “Did you have a good night?” I ask, watching her drop her shoes.

  “’Tis was great. Grappa … no Vin Santo is my new rocket fuel…” hiccup “…what is in that shit? Oh, and I like cocktails too, who knew? Sugar all sugar, and mega bad for you. I have sinned. Fuck … I am a sinner. Any hoo, did you look after my cub?” she slurs then hiccups before opening her water and slugging it down.

  “Yes I did. She is perfectly safe. Can I get you anything?” I ask.

  “A hairdresser. I hate the frizzy look. Damn straighteners. I blame Roo. Was rushing me. I forgot them. How am I going to pull an Italian with this mop?” She pulls at her rather messy hair, making her point.

  “Sorry, no can do. Your hair is not so bad. Can I get you anything else?” I think her headache tomorrow might worry her more than her hairstyle.

  “Nope, I am tickety boo. If Roo has a nightmare, come and get me. Tell her it is a good job she is Mary-friggin-Poppins and hung all her clothes up. Oh fuck, I meant to lift pzammas…” hiccup “…pyjamas, I mean.” She giggles before collapsing on the bed.

  “Night, Hazel,” I say, switching the light off.

  “Night, lovely Lucca … the Italian Stallion. Don’t you dare harm a single hair on my cub’s body,” she mumbles.

  Shaking my head in amusement, I lock the main door to the suite and go back to my room. Lexi has not moved, but a soft moan escapes her lips. Quietly, I place the dress over the chaise, use the bathroom, then join her back in bed.

  Again, I wrap my arm around her, but this time as if sensing it is me, she hums and places her hand over my arm.

  And I close my eyes together, taking a moment to thank my lucky fucking stars. When I open them I need to search for my heart because I just lost it somewhere between my chest and hers.

  It is the best feeling in the world. The small sentiment, she has touched me … touched me in the physical and emotional sense, even though she is asleep and blissfully unaware she has a hold on me ... all of me.

  Part one: Lussuria ~ Lucca’s Words

  “Lussuria ~ Chapter Twelve: Flaring up the Fire”

  Chapter 6

  Unadulterated Lust

  Dozing, I jolt awake when I hear her cry, whimper, and whine words like “don’t touch me,” “stop,” and “don’t hurt me” while thrashing her body about beside me. What the fuck?

  Jesus. She is having a nightmare.

  I calm her down eventually, still wondering what the hell is going on with her. Why is she having bad dreams? The knife? The caution, nervousness, and fear? It all te
lls me she is afraid of something or someone. I am glad when she changes the topic because the thought of her being afraid makes me feel sick.

  She says she needs to use the bathroom and is embarrassed about it. Cute. I do not do embarrassed, no boundaries, and definitely not with her. She will need to learn that about me. I was brought up in a family of very liberal people. No secrets. No hiding. Of course she refuses to let me take her, but I am not having her walk in case she is unsteady on her feet.

  “We are not exactly strangers now. You have massaged me and met my family, so I would say we have done formalities. I have witnessed you vomit, so peeing is not a hassle,” I say. The funny thing is, she thinks I am joking. I am not. I am deadly serious.

  When I leave her to it, I stand outside by the door but panic when I hear her bang against something. I push the door open, pick her up like a light feather, and take her back to bed. This girl is mighty stubborn and stroppy. I also like stroppy Lexi.

  “Why on Earth did you try to stand up? I would have lifted you.”

  “Because my balance will be fine. I’m capable of walking. I’m very independent and not used to having someone caring for me so intimately.”

  My stomach tightens. She has never had anyone care for her like this? So intimately? This is not even intimate, not by my standards. Far from it. She has rendered me speechless. Why has no one shown her care, love, or attention? Why did that fucker of an ex not look after her? My head is plagued by thoughts, and I lose myself thinking about the millions of ways she should be cherished and shown attention.

  Is that why she pushes me away? Is apprehensive? I wonder if it is because she has never been shown any proper love or care and either does not recognise it when it is given to her, or she is so used to being neglected that she is afraid to know any different. When I find out who the fucking idiotic useless prick is, I will fucking do him in.

  I want to know what her dream was about, but she does not want to talk about it. She wants to go back to sleep. I go along with it because I know if I start digging, I will not stop until I find out what and why a monster tears her up at night. My mood has shifted, and not because of anything she has said or done. It is the thought that she has never been looked after.