The Temporary Wife: Luca and Valentina's Story(39)

He turns his wrist, the back of his hand brushing over my cheek, his eyes on mine. “Let’s take a few days to grow accustomed to each other before we tell my grandmother, to ensure that we’re acting in a natural and intimate way, the way a real couple would. Would anyone believe us when you look at me like you’d love to kill me in my sleep?”

I can’t help but smile at his words and shake my head. It’s odd how hard it is to truly hate him. The pain he caused throughout the last few months hasn’t disappeared, but right here, right now, he makes it easy to forget.

“Once we’ve nailed our interactions and we’re sure we can fool my grandmother, we’ll tell her. I don’t think it’ll be easy to break that engagement, but what else can she do when I’m already married? It might take a little bit of time, but it’ll be resolved. We just need to find a way to do it without damaging our relationship with the Ivanovs. In the meantime, I’ve asked our medical team to oversee the appointment of your grandmother’s nurses. I’m making it a top priority, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. Just play your role as my wife, and I’ll do my part too.”

I nod, my heart heavy. It won’t be easy to fool his grandmother, and we’ll have to put on a convincing act. There clearly is lust and chemistry between us, but love will be a lot harder to fake.

“We really should practice some more,” he whispers. “It’s been so long since I had a taste of you.” He cups my face, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip as his gaze lowers. I inhale sharply when I feel him harden underneath me. “So tell me, wife. Will you let me kiss you?”

My heart skips a beat, and the clear longing in his eyes only fuels my own. I don’t think Luca has ever been this sweet to me. He’s a familiar stranger that I want to get to know, against better judgment.

My gaze drops to his lips, and he hardens even further underneath me, yet he doesn’t move. He just stares at me, waiting patiently. I lean in a little, my lips hovering over his. Months of endless jealousy and resentment, of wanting to lash out at him and hurt him the way he’s hurt me, of making him suffer for the way he blacklisted me. All of that, only for us to end up right here, right now, in each other’s arms.

“I think I hate you,” I whisper.

Luca’s hand threads through my hair, and he grips tightly. “Hate me as much as you want, baby. Resent me. Despise me for shackling you to me when I should’ve offered you unconditional help. Torment me for using you, Valentina, but don’t you fucking leave me.”

“I can’t,” I murmur as I close the distance between us, my lips brushing against his. “I can’t leave you.” I tried, yet here I am, in his bed. I give in and kiss him, taking what I’ve been wanting all along.

Luca groans and fists my hair, his touch rough as he forces my lips open, deepening our kiss. His hands roam over my body with such urgency that he’s almost got me believing that this is more than just simple lust.

“Fuck, Valentina,” he groans, his lips moving to my neck. I gasp and push against him, sitting up on my knees to put some distance between us.

His hands fall away, and he stares at me, his gaze heated. “Stop,” I whisper, my thoughts in turmoil. “I… we need to work tomorrow, and it’s late.”

He sighs and gently brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Okay, Mrs. Windsor,” he tells me, the edges of his lips turning up into a small smile.

I move off him and lie down in bed, my heart racing. I’ve never felt this conflicted. The way he makes me feel is so unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. There’s no denying that I want him, yet his every touch fills me with heartache.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





Luca

I stare at my wife through the glass wall in my office, taking in her beauty. She was gone by the time I woke up this morning, depriving me of an experience I’d been looking forward to. I’ve always hated having people in my personal space, but I’m curious what it’d be like to wake up with her. She has no idea that I fantasized about the way her hair would spread all over my pillows for months.

Valentina got to the office long before I did, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding me. I suppose yesterday’s events are catching up to her, and realization is dawning. I run a hand through my hair, equally uncertain what this marriage will look like.

That horrible outfit she wore last night, paired with the fact that she was out of the house before I even woke up, spoke volumes. She wants distance and I should be grateful for it, but the more she runs, the more I want to chase her. I want her moaning my name the way she did in that gazebo in the vineyard. I want her begging for me until every bad memory I created fades away.

I sit up when I notice Theo Miller walking toward her desk, looking flustered. What the fuck is he doing here? The top floor is reserved for me, our executive team, and the board. What reason could he possibly have to be here? Have they kept in touch since that date they tried to go on?

He leans against her desk, and she smiles up at him when she should be telling him to fuck off. Theo says something to her, and she laughs. The mere fucking sight of her makes my heart skip a beat. My wife is unnecessarily beautiful, and it irritates me that I’m not the only one who notices.

I glance at my pocket watch and grit my teeth. Three minutes. That’s all the time I’m giving her to send him away before I intervene.