A giggle slipped past my lips at his reply. My immediate reaction was to text back or what, but I didn’t cave to the temptation. A man like Luca was accustomed to getting his way, and something inside me reveled at denying him the satisfaction of a response. I tossed my phone back in my purse and buried myself in work.
I was successfully able to distract myself all day, but twenty-four hours later, Luca was all I could think about. I didn’t see him the next morning on my way into work, and I was getting twitchy about not giving in to his request for a date. Could my little show at playing hard-to-get backfire on me? He certainly hadn’t reached out to push for an answer—could he have decided I wasn’t worth the effort?
My thoughts were consumed with questions about Luca, so much so that I was a distracted mess. I had turned on the ancient industrial coffee maker without any water in it, sent out an email to the wrong person, and had put a handful of letters into outgoing mail without any postage—all before ten a.m.
I scolded myself, insisting when I returned from lunch, I would get my head on straight before I made a major mistake and got myself in trouble. I likely wouldn’t get fired—that was one of the perks of being the boss’s daughter—but explaining a screw up to my dad would be a far worse punishment. Memories of past reprimands would likely forever haunt me—I didn’t need to add to their numbers.
One of the most vivid of those memories danced around in my subconscious every time my father grew agitated. At the ripe old age of seven, I had left the water on in the bathtub while I ran to collect some toys for my bath. Distracted by a Barbie my older sister had mutilated, I forgot about the water. Manufacturers make those little drains on the inside of tubs to catch overflow, but I’m not sure why—they don’t work worth a flip. The water flooded the bathroom and into my bedroom before I discovered what had happened. Even better, my room was on the second floor. The water leaked into the floor and dripped down into our living room.
My mother made me face my father after he came home from work and tell him exactly what had happened. The veins in his temples had pulsed with anger. He’d berated me for acting like a baby and suggested I returned to wearing diapers. He never raised a hand to me or punished me unfairly, but his disappointment and anger had been enough. I’d only been seven, but I remembered that day like it was yesterday. I hated seeing the disappointment in my father’s eyes when I let him down, and if I didn’t pay more attention, that was exactly the direction I was headed.
The problem was, Luca was nearly as captivating as my father was intimidating. Everything about the man screamed ‘stay away, danger’—but did that stop me from daydreaming at every opportunity? Hell, no. I was drawn to the cool control Luca exercised over himself, and likely everything in his life. Girls should be drawn to men who are sweet and respectful, not controlling and domineering. He made me nervous, but in a good way—as if being the sole focus of his attention could make the world disappear.
Nothing else would matter, only him.
It was a terrifying and intoxicating prospect.
I stepped into a crosswalk as I made my way back from lunch, absorbed in my thoughts, and was suddenly yanked back into a hard body as a small delivery truck whizzed by right where I’d been about to walk. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and I turned wide-eyed to look back at my savior.
Luca glared down at me, eyes blazing with fury.
“What … how?” I was too disoriented to formulate a clear thought.
“What the fuck, Alessia? You almost walked straight into traffic,” he growled down at me, hands still gripping my arms.
“I was distracted,” I replied, still breathless from the incident. I glanced down at his hands, and they slowly released me, but neither of us stepped apart.
He looked up at the buildings above us as he took in a deep breath, some of the tension softening from his features. “You have to be more careful,” he chided when he brought his gaze back down to me. “I haven’t gotten my date yet.”
I coughed out a laugh and took a small step back, relieved he had lightened the mood. “I’d hate to disappoint you by getting killed.” I sobered and dropped my chin, feeling suddenly shy. “Thank you for saving me.”
Luca stepped forward nonchalantly, not letting me put space between us, and slowly lowered his mouth to my ear. My breath hitched as he drew closer, his cheek mere inches from mine. Who was this man, and why did he affect me so profoundly? Just his nearness rendered me incapable of breath or thought.
“Thank me by coming to dinner tonight.” The low timbre of his voice resonated against my sensitive skin and brought on a wave of goosebumps down the length of my arms.
How could I say no?
The man had saved my life by pulling me out of the street before I was flattened. I could tell myself the only polite thing to do was to accept his invitation, but the reality was, I wanted more than anything to have dinner with him, regardless of customary civilities. I wanted to know this fortress of a man who exuded practiced control. I wanted to know what made him tick and why he was the way he was. I wanted to be the sole recipient of his focused attention.
“Alright,” I breathed out as he pulled away and met my eyes. “But I’m driving myself, just tell me when and where.”
His lips curved with a hint of amusement. “Del Posto on 6th—I’ll reserve a table for us at seven.”
I nodded and glanced toward my building. “You headed back?”
“Just leaving.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you this evening.” I smiled, suddenly feeling awkward, and started to turn when he called my name.
“Try to pay attention—I may not be there next time to save you.” With those words, he turned and disappeared into the river of pedestrians flowing along the city sidewalk.
My skin tingled with unease at the realization of just how lucky I’d been. Most of the people around me were too absorbed in minding their own business to stop a woman from being hit by a car. Not that they were bad people, they were simply trained to keep their eyes down and thoughts to themselves. That was city life.
I’d been three blocks from the Triton building—what were the odds at that precise moment, someone I knew would be nearby, and that someone would be Luca? In a city of millions, the odds were astronomical. I wasn’t sure if I should take it as a sign of kismet or a harrowing red flag. Regardless, the outcome was the same—I had a date with Luca, only hours away.
Back at the office, I spent a good amount of time stressing about my impending date. I did far less work than I should have, which wouldn’t have been a problem had I not received an email from my boss informing me he would be back from his trip early.
The presentation went well, and I was able to catch an earlier flight. I want to run through the Gold Street project tomorrow morning, so have a progress report ready for me.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
Roger would be at the office tomorrow, which was bad news on its own, but to make matters worse, I had no idea what the status was on the Gold Street project. At four-thirty in the afternoon, there was hardly time to gather information, put together a report, and still make it to my date with Luca. I could go in early, but Roger often went into the office early, and there was no way I wanted to chance being alone with him in the building.
I refused to sit down with my boss the following morning and tell him I was clueless about a project I’d been supervising. That only left me with one option. I would have to cancel my date and stay late to prepare for my meeting.
Reluctantly, I took out my phone and texted Luca. Change of plans—I’m going to have to cancel tonight. I’ll text you later.
I knew he’d argue, and I didn’t have time to explain, so I turned off my ringer and dove into work. I spoke with several coworkers about where we were in the bidding process and had begun to review the drafts of our proposal documents when I sensed a presence in the doorway of my office.
My eyes rose and took in
all six feet and change of an angry Luca leaning against the doorframe. His casual stance was not to be confused for indifference—a storm raged in his obsidian eyes. I sat motionless, eyes wide, hands frozen over my keyboard.
“How did you find me?” I asked, stunned.
“The elevator—you said you worked at Triton, remember?”
Of course. How could I have forgotten? My eyes danced around the room as I stood, at a loss for words. He’d come because of my text—did he plan to argue with me? There were no private conversations in my office, and Luca didn’t do subtle. Panic had me surging forward to grab Luca’s hand him down the hall toward one of our private conference rooms on the interior of the building. Pulling him inside, I closed the door behind us and rested my back against it.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed quietly.
He stalked to where I stood until we were toe-to-toe, his hand reaching out to clasp the back of my neck. “Don’t you know it’s rude to send a text like that, then disappear?”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to show up at someone’s workplace uninvited?” I shot back.
“I’m not letting you back out tonight.”
“My boss is coming back early from a trip, and I have to prepare for a meeting we’re going to have in the morning.”
His blazing eyes narrowed. “Go in early.”
“I … I can’t.”
He scrutinized me to cipher out what I was leaving unsaid, but I kept my lips tightly sealed.
“We’ll push dinner back an hour.” He gave me an expectant look, demanding I concede to his terms.
This man I hardly knew had sought me out in my office and was insisting I have dinner with him—everything about the situation implied I should walk away—not just walk, run. And yet, in my twisted mind, it was the sexiest thing a man had ever done. The little warnings voiced in my head were lost in the tornadic winds of lust he conjured inside me. A part of me was starving for whatever it was he offered—escape, protection, explosive desire. I’d been with men before, but no one like him. Nothing even came close. He was a tsunami, and my small island had no hope of surviving his battering effects.
Head still cupped in his large hands, I nodded my acquiescence. His eyes sparked in response, pleasure radiating from those dark depths. My chest swelled with warmth at the knowledge that my surrender had brought him such satisfaction. I had always been eager to please, but that side of me became all-consuming when I was around Luca.
His thumb traced a path along my jaw, came around to my chin, then lifted to pull gently on my bottom lip. My eyes were transfixed on his face while his gaze stayed glued to my parted lips. I could almost see the thoughts as they passed behind his expressive eyes, and I wondered what he’d decide—to kiss me, or not to kiss me. I was shamefully tempted by the former.
“I’ll come by the office and pick you up,” he said as his hands fell away.
Not to kiss. Too bad.
“No, I’ll meet you there.” Some small portion of my self-preservation instincts managed to overcome my desire to please.
“Stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Not normally—you seem to bring out the best in me.”
He stepped back with a wicked grin. “Eight sharp, be there.”
5
Alessia
After throwing together some notes sufficient to get me through my morning meeting, I texted my driver to let him know I wouldn’t need a ride after work. Having a driver in the city wasn’t necessary, but it was one of the luxuries I allowed myself to indulge in. Plus, it had been one area in which my father had been unyielding—he didn’t want any of us girls living alone in the city without a driver to get us around at night.
I had no issue with using a driver, but on that beautiful spring evening, I decided to walk to the restaurant. It was only a couple blocks from my office, and I needed the fresh air to clear my head before facing Luca. He was overwhelming in every sense of the word. There was a very real chance I would lose myself in him if I wasn’t careful—drown beneath the sheer force of his will and the alluring pull of his magnetic personality.
My cheeks heated in the brisk evening air, and there was something else that caused my skin to tingle—something that set me on edge. Had I not been so focused on paying attention to my surroundings, I never would have noticed. It was the feeling of someone was watching me. Perhaps long-ingrained from our prehistoric days, I sensed an awareness of possible danger, a sixth sense that couldn’t be explained.
I took a casual glance behind me, scanning the area for signs someone was watching me but saw nothing unusual—no suspicious man in a trench coat, skulking behind me or sketchy thugs eyeballing me from a distance. The city street looked like it did on any other evening, so I tried to calm my overactive imagination. Assuring myself it was likely just my anxiety over having dinner with Luca that had me worked up, I tucked my chin and continued toward the restaurant.
The place he’d chosen was an elegant Italian bistro nestled in downtown Manhattan. Despite the soaring ceilings, the room felt cozy, thanks to the rich wood accents and dimmed lighting. It was the type of place you might find a politician or movie star dining—a place that discretely catered to important people. If I hadn’t been used to such establishments my entire life, I might have been unnerved by the place. As it was, I had been to Del Posto before and was well acquainted with the experience.
I arrived before Luca, but he entered only minutes after. I hadn’t had the wherewithal to admire how he looked in his black suit at either of our earlier exchanges—both having been too intense to allow for a casual perusal of his suited form. The sight of him crossing the foyer toward me liquified my insides. The fabric of his suit pulled taut where his biceps flexed against the sleeves, and the broad expanse of his shoulders over his narrow waist made my mouth go dry. As if he knew the effect he had on me, a wolfish grin spread across his face.
“I may not have said it earlier today, but you look stunning.” He took my hand and pressed his lips to the back, just below my knuckles, lingering briefly. The sensation edged my heartrate up from a gentle thrum to a fluttering frenzy.
“Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.”
Not releasing my hand, he led me to the hostess station where the young woman on duty snapped into motion.
“This way, please.” She led us to the back of the restaurant toward a table in the far corner.
“I’m impressed you could get a reservation moved on such late notice,” I whispered to Luca.
“The owner is a friend of mine,” he murmured near my ear as he helped me into my seat.
Blushing at his nearness, I glanced down at the white china place setting. “I guess it pays to have friends in high places.”
As soon as he was seated, our server brought waters and took our drink orders. The moment I gave my wine selection, Luca instructed the server to bring a bottle.
“That’s not necessary,” I cut in.
The young man looked between us, and Luca gave him a stern, raised brow. Without looking back to me, our server scurried off to obtain the bottle.
“Do you always get your way?” I asked with amusement.
“Quite often, yes.”
“And yet you still manage to have friends?”
“Having friends is an important part of my business.”
“And what business is that?”
“Banking.”
I tilted my head, looking him over appraisingly. “You don’t strike me as the banker type.”
“No?” he mused. “What type do I seem like?”
The question was a tricky one. I’d already thought about it after our encounter in the elevator but had come up emptyhanded. His features were so striking, it was hard to think of him as doing anything outside of modeling. Then again, his dark intensity lent itself to positions of power and a job that would require a great deal of drive. “Maybe a pro athlete or an actor?”
“What bank do you work for?”
“You probably wouldn’t know it—we’re a relatively small-scale operation.”
“Do you like what you do?”
He peered at me for long seconds, seemingly weighing his answer. “It’s my life; it’s who I am.”
There was silence between us for a moment as his words lingered in the air. It was a bold statement. I could relate because my company was family-owned, but not many other people in my experience felt the same sense of ownership regarding their job.
“What about you—what do you do for Triton?” he asked, bringing the discussion back to me.
“I work in the marketing department currently.”
“And do you enjoy it?”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “When my boss isn’t around.” Bringing my glass to my lips, I took a healthy sip of wine. I could feel Luca’s assessing gaze attempt to read between the lines, but I wasn’t going to give him more information.
“What is it about your boss you dislike?”
I should have known he wouldn’t leave that one alone. What did I tell him without saying too much? I hadn’t told my sisters or anyone but Giada about my boss—I certainly wasn’t going to tell Luca, who I’d only just met.
“He’s … bossy, that’s all.” I smiled, hoping to lure him away from the subject.
Taking the bait, his eyes sparked with mischief. “I could have sworn you liked that in a man.”
“It’s more tolerable in some men than others.”
“And do you have any other bossy but tolerable men in your life?”
Was he asking if I was seeing anyone? Surely, he knew the fact that I’d come to dinner meant I wasn’t involved with anyone else. “No.”
He lifted his chin, acknowledging my answer as the server came to take our orders. “Captain’s menu, please.”
“Yes, sir. And your antipasti selection?”
Forever Lies (The Five Families Book 1) Page 4