by Lynne Graham
Reeling from the surprise of that passionate onslaught, she swayed. Clamping her to the hard, muscular heat of his lean, powerful frame, he backed her up against the wall behind her.
‘Lucca…’ she mumbled unsteadily with no thought of resisting him, for he never, ever talked about feelings and had always used his raw sexuality as a means of communication. So, when he touched her again for the first time in two years, she believed she had broken through his barriers and that he was accepting her back into his life.
‘Want me?’ he growled.
‘Always…’
In answer he kissed her as though he were devouring her. It was incredibly sexy. Her head swam and her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, but she held him to her with eager, greedy hands. Mad excitement and joy were coursing through her in a seductive tidal wave. Her body was molten liquid in response, flaming with the feverish heat she had never dreamt she would feel again. A dulled, nagging ache pulsed at the very heart of her, making her shift forward into instinctive closer contact.
An almost imperceptible shudder ran through Lucca’s big, powerful frame. He wanted to lift her up against him and sink into the tight, sweet promise of her tiny body again and again and again until he had finally sated the blaze of blistering desire that inflamed him. But in the room next door another woman was waiting for him. A woman, he reminded himself doggedly, whom he could take without fuss or promises or complications. A split second later, however, he reached a decision. There was no reason why he should not celebrate his approaching freedom by taking his soon-to-be ex-wife back to his bed one more time purely to demonstrate just what she had carelessly thrown away…
Closing his lean brown hands over Vivien’s slim, clinging arms, he urged them down from his shoulders to her sides and forced a little space between them. ‘This is not good timing for me.’
Her glowing eyes clung to his lean, darkly handsome features. She could not conceal her dizzy happiness. ‘What does timing have to do with anything? I just want to be with you.’
Brilliant dark eyes shimmering, Lucca stilled. Outrage filled him. How could she think for one moment that it would be that easy to get him back? He would never forgive her. He was finished with her. Had she honestly believed that all she had to do was say sorry and they would kiss and make up like little kids after a childish argument? If she thought that, she was out of her mind! Cold, dark fury ran like bars of steel through Lucca and, at his coldest, he was also at his most merciless.
‘I think we could be talking at cross purposes, cara,’ Lucca murmured very drily. ‘I’m not interested in reinstating our former marriage. How many times do I have to tell you that that’s out of the question and very much in the past?’
Vivien had fallen as still as an accident victim. The colour was slowly draining from her delicate pointed face, leaving her waxen pale. She felt like someone trying to wade blindfolded through a swamp because she could not understand why he should suddenly be studying her as though she were a rather pathetic specimen under a lab scope. ‘But only thirty seconds ago, you were…you were k-kissing me,’ she stammered in bewilderment.
Lucca watched her and almost winced. She was so literal, so straightforward, seeing black and white and no shades of grey. Around him, she was an accident waiting to happen. That awareness only increased his anger. The blame for their wrecked marriage was hers, not his.
‘That was sex,’ he told her with cruel casualness.
Predictably, Vivien reddened and made restive movements, that three-letter word being one that she was always ludicrously keen to avoid. ‘Obviously, yes…but—’
‘I can fancy a quick tumble without any desire to embrace holy matrimony again,’ Lucca filled in with derisive cool. ‘As I recall, you were surprisingly hot between the sheets.’
At that unsought accolade, calculated to underline her loss of dignity, Vivien slapped him so hard her wrist went numb. She felt no shame or regret either. She would not allow him to speak to her like that. Hopefully too he would remember being slapped longer than he would remember her pitifully immediate surrender to his first contemptuous kiss. White as death, but her narrow spine rigid and her green eyes unseeing, she sidestepped him. She must not, could not allow herself to break down and make an even bigger fool of herself in his presence.
‘No woman has ever dared to hit me before…’ Hard jaw line squared, Lucca stepped in front of her to prevent her fast walk in the direction of the door.
‘It shows,’ Vivien told him half under her breath, striving not to let her evasive gaze come to rest on the angry red imprint of her fingers across one smooth, hard Latin cheekbone. ‘Whatever I did in the past, and however much I’ve annoyed you today, I had good intentions and no wish to hurt or offend. I don’t deserve to be spoken to as though I’m the dirt below your feet—’
‘I didn’t—’
‘Nor will I allow you to make me feel ashamed of trying to save our marriage—’
‘But you didn’t bloody well try for five minutes two years ago!’ Lucca slung back with an icy condemnation that stopped Vivien in her tracks.
She was already fighting to contain the anguish inside her. She had lost him finally and for ever. There was to be no going back, no second chance. He despised her. And could she really blame him? Everything that had gone wrong, it seemed, was solely her fault. Only, even in the midst of her utter misery, she knew that that was not strictly true. She might have been much happier with him than she had been without him but their marriage had been far from perfect and any compromises made had been hers alone.
‘Perhaps it is too late but I’m trying now,’ she countered painfully. ‘Is that such a crime?’
Without any warning the door opened and a very tall, striking brunette appeared on the threshold.
‘Bliss…I’m almost finished,’ Lucca murmured smooth as glass. ‘I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’
Bliss? Bliss Masterson? Vivien had not recognised that name when it had been hurled at her by the paparazzi, but she did recognise that fabulous face from the marketing campaign in which the supermodel posed as a warrior princess to sell exotic perfume.
Like a mouse charmed by a deadly cobra, Vivien found herself staring at the most beautiful woman in the world. She couldn’t help staring because Bliss was gorgeous enough to stop traffic. Hair the colour of polished jet fell straight and smooth as silk framing perfect features and turquoise eyes. The brunette was slim and shapely and extremely elegant. Vivien’s heart sank as she realised that the whole time she had been with Lucca, Bliss must have been waiting for him. While Vivien had been engaged in her desperate clumsy struggle to persuade Lucca to give their marriage and her another chance, Lucca must have been wishing her a world away.
‘Vivien…’ With enviable social poise, Bliss glided gracefully forward. ‘We haven’t met before but I feel I know you already through your son.’
‘My son…?’ Vivien felt sick with mortification.
‘Marco is so delightful…and very like his father.’ Bliss sent an intimate smile in Lucca’s direction. ‘I just adore children.’
‘Yes,’ Vivien mumbled, ducking her head to hide the anguished strain in her eyes. She felt horribly out of place and humiliated not only by the other woman’s presence, but also by Bliss’s unexpected familiarity with Marco. Appreciating that she herself was the uninvited guest only made Vivien feel worse.
Bliss seemed very much at home in Lucca’s townhouse and quite unruffled by the appearance of Lucca’s wife. Vivien’s throat tightened. Would Lucca tell Bliss that Vivien had begged him for a second chance? Would they share a pitying laugh about her? Compared with Bliss Masterson…but how could she possibly compare to such a woman? She was small and fair and imperfect in every way. Even her hideously expensive new dress looked stupid next to the brunette’s simple cream shift!
Tears burning the back of her eyes, Vivien headed towards the door that led back out into the hall.
‘You should wait,’ Lucca in
formed her. ‘We don’t want to create another media frenzy. Bliss should leave first by the rear entrance. She’s running late for a charity event.’
Entrapped, Vivien hovered and fought to keep a lid on her distress while also maintaining a fake smile on a mouth that felt as though it had been carved out of wood. Being forced to tolerate the sight of Lucca with Bliss affected Vivien like a dagger plunged to the hilt in her heart. Mercifully, Lucca escorted the exquisite model from the room.
‘I do hope we meet again,’ Bliss bubbled sweetly on her way past.
Vivien closed her hands together in an effort to stop them trembling. Why the heck had she come back to see Lucca? What madness had possessed her? When had Lucca ever been free of female company? What price courage now?
The mobile phone in her bag rang and, numbly, she dug it out to answer it.
‘Where are you?’ Fabian Garsdale enquired thinly. ‘I’ve been waiting for almost half an hour.’
‘Oh, Fabian…’ Guilt engulfed Vivien, for only now was she remembering that she had agreed to attend an evening lecture with the older man while his mother minded Marco. The arrangement had been made weeks earlier and Mrs Garsdale would be justifiably offended by so belated a cancellation. ‘I’m so, so sorry…something came up. How can I excuse myself? I totally forgot we were supposed to be going out tonight!’
In the doorway, Lucca came to a sudden halt. It took a great deal to disconcert Lucca, but that latter snatch of overheard dialogue achieved the feat. He levelled startled dark eyes on Vivien’s delicate profile. She had acted so innocent. She had even talked as if she still cared about him. Indeed, just a few minutes ago, she had fallen into his arms with alacrity. Yet, in spite of all that, Vivien had another man in her life. Lucca was outraged by that revelation. Fabian? What a deeply creepy name! Probably some boring nerd built like a stick insect, a smug, bookish weed more at home in the library than the bedroom, Lucca decided with sardonic distaste.
Unaware that she had an audience, Vivien was wincing with regret at her lack of tact in admitting that she had forgotten her arrangement with Fabian. ‘I had better call your mother personally and apologise…after she made such a generous offer to help out too.’
‘I’ve already informed Mother that you’ve been taken ill, so there’s no need to call this evening.’
Vivien was relieved that Fabian sounded mollified by her response.
Lucca went rigid at the revelation that Vivien’s relationship evidently extended to an acquaintance with the nerd’s mother. So it was that serious. Dio mio…could that mean that Vivien, the last of the twentieth-century puritans, was actually sharing a bed with the guy? Lucca was disgusted, one hundred per cent disgusted, and sincerely appalled at that unexpected fall in Vivien’s very high moral standards. Certainly he did not begrudge Vivien the right to lead her own life. However, Marco’s needs had to come first and Lucca did not consider what he perceived to be the threat of a stepfather to be in his son’s best interests.
‘Did Bernice tell you where I am?’ Vivien asked Fabian uncomfortably.
‘Bernice isn’t here. There are lights on but there doesn’t seem to be anyone at home.’
Vivien was very surprised to hear that. Bernice would have had to get Marco out of bed to go out anywhere and, once wakened, Marco was not easily settled again. She frowned and then caught sight of Lucca.
‘Talking on mobile phones is very expensive,’ Fabian complained.
Bang, bang, bang went Vivien’s heart while she stared at Lucca’s lean bronzed features and she cringed for herself. How could she still be so susceptible? What a very sad individual she must seem to Lucca and his breathtakingly hip girlfriend! Poor, lonely Vivien, chasing romantic rainbows two years too late and a husband who believed their entire marriage had been a ghastly mistake!
Painfully conscious of Lucca’s dark, glittering appraisal, and convinced that he was embarrassed by her inability to match his cool attitude, Vivien forced another false smile onto her down-curved lips. With as near an approximation of a chirpy giggle as she could manage, she told Fabian that she would see him when she got back.
‘I’ll look into your office on Friday…two can eat as cheaply as one!’ Fabian was dropping a heavy hint that he was hoping to share her packed lunch. She almost laughed out loud, and was then ashamed of herself, for Fabian might be a little tight with money but he was also a colleague worthy of her respect and had proven himself to be a kind and reliable friend.
Refusing to look back in Lucca’s direction, for her self-discipline was stretched too thin over her turbulent emotions, Vivien put away her phone and murmured flatly, ‘I’d better get going…’
‘You can’t leave.’
‘Sorry?’ Vivien sent Lucca a bemused glance.
‘The house is surrounded by paparazzi. Bliss managed to slip away but we can’t hope to pull off the same stunt twice in one evening,’ Lucca spelt out drily. ‘You’ll have to stay the night and sneak out in the morning.’
Vivien studied him in dismay and set off regardless towards the front door. ‘I couldn’t possibly stay…that’s out of the question.’
‘The press are waiting out there for you,’ Lucca murmured silkily. ‘Your arrival an hour ago only whet their appetite. They’ll be even more aggressive second time round.’
Daunted by that warning, Vivien paled. ‘I know, but I can’t stay here—’
‘Why not? It’s the easy way out. The paparazzi won’t wait all night and a discreet departure at an early hour tomorrow will take care of the problem.’ Lean, powerful face cool, as though there were nothing more natural than offering hospitality to his unwelcome and soon-to-be divorced wife, Lucca dealt her an expectant appraisal.
Meeting his brilliant dark golden eyes, Vivien went pink and hurriedly tore her gaze from his. She did not wish to remain below his roof, but she had found the paparazzi distinctly intimidating and what Lucca said seemed to make sense. But then, Lucca had always been very practical. If she caught the earliest possible train she would be home in time to greet Marco as he wakened and to take a breakfast tray up to her sister as a thank-you for her helpfulness.
‘Vivien…’ Lucca prompted with a tinge of impatience.
‘Yes…OK, I’ll stay…thank you,’ Vivien added stiltedly.
‘You must be hungry.’
‘No, not at all, ‘Vivien declared, for she had no appetite. ‘It’s been a very long and trying day. Could I go upstairs now?’
Lean, dark face impassive, Lucca gazed back at her with dark-as-midnight eyes as tough as diamonds. ‘You surprise me, cara. I thought you might view our enforced togetherness as yet another opportunity in your campaign to resurrect our marriage.’
Mortified colour swept away Vivien’s pallor. He was making fun of her in the cruellest way. That biting tongue of his had always been the dark side of his keen intelligence. Anger rescued her at what felt like her lowest ebb and her chin came up. ‘Perhaps I need to reconsider whether or not you would be worth more effort.’
‘In terms of cash…yes,’ Lucca countered without hesitation. ‘In terms of anything else, we would have to negotiate.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, don’t want to know.’ Vivien was too worked up to think straight and too exhausted to risk remaining any longer in his vicinity. ‘I just want to go to my room.’
‘I’ll show you up.’
For a self-indulgent instant, she let herself look at Lucca, for she knew she would probably not see him again before she left. Greedily making the most of her chance, she stared and wondered what it was about him that made him so irresistible. His sleek dark good looks, the very masculine beauty of his long, powerful build and that dazzling sex appeal that could shock like a sudden blaze? Or the even more charismatic appeal of his cool, analytical intelligence and that innate reserve that had always shut her out? He had taught her that even with the supposed security of a wedding ring on her finger loving another human being could be agonising.
Disconcerted dark golden eyes locked to her with perceptible force. ‘Say that again…’
‘Marriage was the one thing you hadn’t tried and I was a novelty.’ Vivien stared at a beautiful inlaid cabinet because she was afraid that if she looked at the dark beauty of him she would lose her nerve. ‘You once spent two million pounds on a painting and, after it had hung one night in your apartment, you loaned it out to a museum and I don’t think you ever went near it again. The thrill was in the acquisition.’
His sculpted jaw line hardened as he switched on the lamps in the large bedroom he had entered and stood back to allow her to pass. ‘You’re talking rubbish.’
‘No, I was like that painting. Once you got me, you lost interest,’ she completed gruffly.
‘I don’t propose to distinguish your imaginative comments with a response. Use the phone if you require anything.’ Lithe as a jungle predator, Lucca strolled back to the door, all male, arrogant and oh, so sure of himself and challenging her at every step. ‘Dormi bene.’
Sleep well? Was he joking? A hysterical laugh was stuck in Vivien’s throat and she was trembling all over…
CHAPTER FOUR
REFUSING to surrender to her emotional state, Vivien lifted the phone by the bed to call Bernice. When there was no response at her home, her concern quickened and she rang her sister’s mobile phone instead. It took some time before it was answered.
‘Vivien?’ Bernice’s voice was muffled and hard to hear against the music playing in the background. ‘Why are you calling? Are you trying to check up on me?’