Heat surged in my veins even though I tried to stop it. A familiar heat stirred to life simply by seeing his hands and muscular forearms beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves and the casual way his muscles flexed under the expensive cotton as he moved.
He spotted us standing in the trees and stilled, and all that heat ignited to full-on flames when I recognized the dark look in his eyes. A look that told me things with his father had not gone well and that he was fighting to hold back the storm inside him.
A storm I feared because I couldn’t control it. A storm I suddenly ached to have unleashed on me even though that made no sense.
“Natalie.”
I looked down at Felicity’s hand on my arm, then up to her gentle face.
“I know what you’re afraid of. It was the same thing I was afraid of when I first came here with Marco. Our situations are different yet so very similar. But the answers you seek aren’t going to be found in me or even in Luc. They’re going to be found in you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. What you’re trying to run from is not a man or a House or even a threat. All those things can be worked out. What you’re running from is a promise you don’t believe is real. And that’s not something you can ever outrun. It will follow you wherever you go.”
My heart beat hard and fast as I stared at her. She was talking about trust. That elusive faith I’d spent my entire life avoiding. The one thing that was keeping me and Luc apart, even now.
I loved him, but I didn’t entirely trust him. More than that, though, I didn’t trust myself, and that frightened me because it meant I wasn’t sure how I’d react if things got messy again—if I’d try to run like I had before, or if I’d have the strength to believe in him... In us.
Felicity squeezed my arm and smiled. “Give it a chance. Give him a chance to prove it to you. I promise everything else will seem less daunting when you do.”
She let go of me and moved around the bench. “We’ll see you both in an hour.”
As the sun dropped below the hillside, I watched as she met Marco and Luc at the car, slipped her arm around Marco’s waist, and lifted her lips for a kiss.
Felicity didn’t seem the least bit stressed about their earlier meeting, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was because her life wasn’t in immediate danger or if she’d simply accepted everything I was still struggling with. But then Luc turned his gaze my way once more, and that heat flared inside me all over again, distracting me from everything but him.
Felicity was right. I needed to talk to him. Not just about what had happened today, but about us. About how he felt and where we were going. I wouldn’t be able to focus on Dante or his House or anything else until I did.
He’d said he loved me, but he wasn’t particularly acting like a man in love. He’d been avoiding me ever since I’d left his bed back on the island. And I couldn’t wait any longer.
I needed to know if there was still a chance we could reconcile or if we were doomed for all eternity.
Because I could make a decision about what I should do next if I had an answer. It was the waiting in limbo that threatened to destroy me.
* * *
I found Luc in the living room when I entered the cottage, sitting on the couch with his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him, his long fingers busily clicking away at the keyboard.
He didn’t look up as I stepped into the room and closed the door at my back, and I told myself not to be deterred by that fact.
His jaw was a slice of steel beneath his scruffy jaw, and his shoulders were as tense as I’d ever seen them. I knew instinctively that things had not gone well with his father, but I was done sitting in the background, waiting to be included.
“How did it go?” I asked as I moved down the two steps.
“Fine.”
Fine did not tell me a whole lot. “Did he approve our marriage?”
“We discussed it. He’s checking into the paperwork.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. And it didn’t sound as if it was safe for me to leave the property yet.
“Did you see Dante?”
“Yeah. He’s okay. For now.”
Sinking into a chair opposite him, I tried not be frustrated he was giving me so little. He’d talked to me this morning. Granted, it hadn’t been about anything emotional between us, but he’d been making an effort. I had to do the same. “Did your father agree to let Dante go?”
“Not yet.” He closed the laptop and pushed to his feet. “Marco and Fee invited us up for dinner. We have to be at the villa in an hour.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He still hadn’t looked at me. This morning, he’d avoided looking at me for the most part, but then he’d been stressed about his upcoming meeting. This was something different, though. The way he wouldn’t meet my gaze made me almost think he was hiding something.
“Luc, we need to talk about this.” And us. We need to talk about us.
“I know. And we will.” He lifted his laptop from the coffee table and stepped away from me. “Right now, though, I need to shower.”
He disappeared into the bedroom, and alone, I stared after him as an uneasy feeling took up space in my chest.
Instinct said to give him space. He was obviously dealing with something. But I was tired of being brushed aside as if I didn’t matter. And that feeling was growing stronger, telling me whatever he was hiding was something I needed to know.
I pushed to my feet. The bathroom door was already closed when I moved into the bedroom, but I didn’t let that stop me. I crossed the floor and reached for the door handle.
And found it locked.
I jiggled the knob, but the only response I got was the shower spray flipping on inside the bathroom. That and a deafening silence that kicked that feeling to a full-on warning blare.
One that told me whatever secret he was keeping from me this time might just be the one to ruin us for good.
3
Luc
Guilt compelled me to keep my distance from Natalie. A guilt I didn’t like. A guilt I feared was soon going to swallow me whole.
After that meeting with my father, after knowing I’d have to attend another of those depraved parties without her, I’d figured for both our sakes it was safer if I went on doing what I’d done since I’d awoken and found she’d left my bed: keep my distance, not reveal more shit that was going to cause her extra stress, hopefully save her some pain and fucking heartache.
Only, keeping my distance wasn’t helping matters. In fact, at the moment, keeping my distance was doing nothing but making things worse.
I drained the last of my wine and glanced at Natalie’s tense shoulders in the sleeveless red blouse as she sat beside me under the string of white lights at Marco and Fee’s patio table. She hadn’t spoken more than a few curt words to me since we’d left the cottage and come up here for dinner. She’d altogether avoided me after I’d gone to take a shower and was doing everything she could right now not to even look at me.
Considering the pressure I was under, I should be happy she was giving me as much space as I was giving her, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t because I knew she was pissed and because knowing she was so fired up only made me want her that much more.
Every muscle in my body was hot and tight and in need of release, and being forced to sit this close to Natalie while her intoxicating scent of grapefruit and honey swirled around me only amped that need to the thousandth degree. All I could think about was dragging her into the closest bathroom, hiking that flouncy black skirt up to her hips, and fucking her hard and fast against the counter until this craving inside me died down to something I could control.
Fee set a platter of pasta in the middle of the candlelit table on the patio and smiled. “That’s the last of it.”
“Smells wonderful, vita mia.” Marco pushed to his feet and reached for the wine bottle.
“Thank you, my
paramour.” Fee flashed a quick grin at Marco, then sat beside him and looked at me. “So your father didn’t fess up to anything, I hear, Luc.”
A knot formed in my gut as I swept up my refilled glass and took a deep drink, hating that the question had been posed in front of Natalie, trying not to look at her from the corner of my eye at the same time. The Romano red was sweeter than my father’s wine but I didn’t care. Tonight, it was the one indulgence I was allowed, and I didn’t care if I got shit-faced drunk. In fact, I was counting on that happening so I could keep my hands off the woman at my side.
“No.” I swallowed, trying to act calm and casual when I was literally on fucking fire. “Not really a surprise, though.”
I couldn’t stop myself from noticing Natalie’s reaction. Even in the dim lights interwoven through the wisteria and pergola above, I could see the way her jawline tightened at my words, telling me loud and clear keeping my distance was my latest master fuckup. And, dammit, who could blame her? This conversation was quickly making it sound as if I was hiding things from her, which, technically, I was, but...
Shiiiiit.
I swallowed another mouthful of wine.
“Marco said Dante was in pretty bad shape.” Fee spooned pasta onto her plate.
Natalie’s back stiffened. For a second, as Fee passed her the bowl of fettuccini and she reached for it, her silky dark hair swaying over her slim shoulder, I thought I saw smoke rise from her ear.
Holy hell, we needed to get the subject off my damn family before I had a massive coronary.
“No, he wasn’t,” I managed, watching as Natalie took a small helping of pasta and shoved the bowl my way without even looking at me. “We patched him up, though.”
“In a day or two, he’ll be back to his normal sarcastic self.” Marco grinned across from me as he moved a slice of porchetta from the platter to his plate, then handed the serving tray to Fee with a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry, vita mia.”
Natalie reached for her wine and downed a large sip, quickly averting her eyes as Fee turned and kissed Marco on the lips and the two exchanged whispered words.
My discomfort ramped up even more. I’d never been bothered by Marco and Fee’s familiar displays of affection, but tonight, every time Fee casually ran her fingers over Marco’s arm or Marco nonchalantly skimmed his lips against Fee’s temple, I felt a jolt in my own skin. Not from them but from remembering what it felt like when Natalie had touched me like that back before our relationship had turned to pure shit.
I downed half of my wine, hoping it would settle this craving inside me. It didn’t. And at my side, I could tell Natalie was just as uncomfortable as me, but for very different reasons.
Thankfully, Marco took pity on me and steered the conversation away from Dante and our meeting with my father earlier in the day and drew Natalie into a conversation about the wine and her walk through the property while we’d been gone.
Natalie answered where appropriate, but I could tell from her tone she was itching to get out of this dinner as quickly as humanely possible. And bloody hell, I wanted that too, but I was dreading taking her back to the cottage because I didn’t have a fucking clue what I’d do with her when we got there. Or how the hell I was going to keep my hands off her once we were alone.
“Okay, let me see that ring,” Fee said later in the evening when the conversation waned, reaching across the table for Natalie’s hand. “It’s been blinding me all night.”
Natalie’s shoulders tensed, but she lifted her hand from her lap and stretched her arm across the table so Fee could take a closer look.
“Wow.” Fee turned Natalie’s hand right and left so the band caught the light just right, shimmering in the warm evening air. “That’s some ring.”
Natalie shrugged. “I suppose. I’m not all that wild about butterflies.”
“Why not? They’re one of the most amazing creatures on the planet.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Natalie glanced my way with cold and very unfriendly eyes. “I guess I’m just not a fan of what butterflies represent.”
Fuck. Me.
“You’re not a fan of hope? Of strength? Of resilience?”
When Natalie shifted her gaze Fee’s way, Fee said, “The butterfly is revered in almost every culture. In early Christianity, it was a symbol of the soul. In China, the butterfly represents joy and bliss. In Native American cultures, it’s considered a miracle of resurrection. And all over the world, the butterfly is a figure of power, not only because of its ability to transform and adapt, but because it’s a metaphor for the never-ending cycle of life.” She looked down at Natalie’s ring, turning it once more. “The butterfly’s a pretty damn amazing symbol, if you ask me.”
Natalie didn’t respond. Just looked down at the ring with an unreadable expression. And in the silence, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what she was thinking. Or keep from hoping like hell she’d actually heard what Fee had just told her.
Fee glanced my way. “Harry Winston?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to, though. I saw the way just the question made Natalie’s back stiffen.
Fee’s gaze drifted back to the ring. “I’m going to guess at least nine carats. Probably ten or eleven. And definitely custom.”
Natalie still didn’t look my way. But to Fee, she said, “How do you know so much about diamonds?”
Fee grinned. “Personal hobby.”
With his arm slung over the back of Fee’s chair, Marco huffed and reached for his wine. “Personal obsession, more like.”
Fee slanted him a look. “Someday, I’m going to have the most gaudy, expensive diamond on the planet.”
Marco leaned close and kissed her cheek again, and watching made me wish like hell I could kiss Natalie like that. On her cheek, on her neck, on every inch of her fucking luscious body.
Since it was pretty clear I was getting the cold shoulder tonight, I downed the rest of my wine instead.
“I’d buy it for you now if you’d let me, vita mia.”
Fee playfully leaned away from Marco’s lips and shook her head, still smiling. “Not now, paramour.” With a conspiratorial glance my way, she added, “But hopefully soon.”
I frowned, knowing just what the hell Fee was insinuating. Just as I knew what she wanted me to do was the very last thing I was even close to ready for.
Fee was unfazed by my reaction. She went back to studying Natalie’s ring, not the least bit intimidated by me—dammit. “The wide band is an interesting choice. Most women don’t wear bands quite so big. Makes a more dramatic statement than a solitaire, though. You did good, Luc.”
The praise was lost on me. The only person I’d wanted to impress with the ring hadn’t said a damn thing about it until now. And considering that now I knew she pretty much hated it, I wished she hadn’t said a word.
Natalie swiped up her wine as soon as Fee let go of her hand. “He had to go with a wide band to cover the slave marking he tattooed on my finger.”
I nearly dropped my glass. Wide-eyed, I glanced toward my wife, tossing back the rest of her wine as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb right in the middle of dinner.
Fee—equally as shocked by the comment, but for very different reasons—stared at Natalie several moments without blinking. Beside her, Marco’s mouth fell open, but he covered the reaction quickly by fumbling with his own wine and downing what was left in his glass.
A heartbeat later, Felicity burst out laughing. “You almost had me there. That was a good one.”
“Yeah, I’m hilarious like that.” Slapping her glass on the table, Natalie reached for the empty pitcher between us and rose. “I need more water.”
Sonofabitch. Forget the cold shoulder. I was on her permanent shit list, and she had no qualms about letting everyone know.
Marco’s shoulders relaxed as Fee continued to laugh. But I didn’t miss the worried glance he shot my way. I hadn’t given him any specifics about my relationship with Natalie, but I could t
ell he was quickly cueing in to the fact something wasn’t right.
Still smiling, Fee called, “Use the filtered water in the fridge.”
As Natalie disappeared into the villa, Fee looked at me. “Where on earth did you find her, Luc? She’s a spitfire. Makes me look tame in comparison.”
My jaw tightened. Natalie wasn’t a spitfire. She was a hurricane. And I was so caught up in her storm, lately I didn’t know if I was coming or going.
One thing I did know, though, was that she was going to give us away if we weren’t careful. “I didn’t find her. She came looking for me.”
It wasn’t a lie. Just as I knew Natalie was likely regretting the fact she’d come to me at the Covet offices all those weeks ago.
I pushed back from the table. “Think I’ve had enough wine. I’m gonna make some coffee. Anyone else?”
Fee shook her head. “None for me, thanks.”
Marco lifted a finger. “I’ll take one.”
I nodded and moved into the house. Natalie was in the kitchen when I entered, standing at the island, pouring filtered water into the glass pitcher that had been on the table.
My heartbeat kicked up as I passed behind her and flipped on the coffee pot. She tensed but didn’t speak to me or acknowledge my presence, and while that pissed me off and amped me up at the same time, I let her ignore me until after she’d replaced the water filter in the fridge and stepped back to the island to grab the pitcher.
I moved in close behind her and placed my hands on the counter on each side of her body before she could escape, trapping her between the island and my chest.
She froze, her hands on the cut-glass pitcher on the counter, but still didn’t speak. And in the silence, as that intoxicating scent of hers filled my senses, I tried not to be aroused by the fact she was flat-out challenging me with her silence just as she had when we’d been in Rome.
The Vow: House of Sin - Book Four Page 4