What if she doesn’t want any of that?
“I’m interested,” I say, voice gruff and intense. “I’m the most interested I’ve ever been. What about you?”
Her smile twitches and her eyes gleam with something unspoken. I’m almost sure of it.
“Uh, duh.” She giggles in the most adorable way. “Yeah, Luca, I’m interested."
I raise my glass, and she does the same.
“Here we go, then,” I say. “To being interested.”
She laughs, and we clink glasses, and then we share a moment, our eyes locked, our devotion whelming. I can feel the electricity between us.
“You said you were a trained portrait artist,” I say after a minute or so of eating. “Or was this all part of your fake persona?”
“No, that part was true,” she says. “It was when I was a little kid. My dad had this portrait done, super professional, and I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t a photo. It became a running joke, but then it wasn’t a joke anymore. I begged dad to let me learn how. And he did because he really was a supportive, good man. He was a…he didn’t deserve what happened….”
She trails off, choking back a sob.
“I’m sorry,” she says, pawing at her face.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I tell her. “You never have to apologize to me, Lena.”
“From around the age of five to thirteen, that was all I did, learn how to paint portraits. And then I started to experiment. When mom and dad – when Conor…when all that happened, I focused on abstract stuff. I don’t know. Maybe it was like my emotions were on the paper or something. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes,” I snarl. “I tattooed my feelings into you, so it makes sense to me.”
She flinches, looking at me with so much emotion on her face, that I could tell her I love her right here.
I caution myself to slow down, telling myself I can’t reveal it all yet.
I have to wait until after the war. I have to wait until there’s time to process it all.
But even that could be too much for her. Even that could make her want to run as far away and as fast as she could go.
“What do you mean?” she whispers. “I thought you just wanted me to be free. Is that it?”
I clench my jaw, trying with everything I have to hold in the raging inferno within, barely contained behind the pounding of my heart. Everything I feel for this woman tries to burst free, all the affection, dedication, and protective impulses.
“No,” I say. “It’s not just that.”
She leans forward, her mouth dropping open. Even Jackson rises from his place in the corner of the room, uncurling his body and padding over like he can sense something important is happening.
“It’s you, Lena. It’s everything about you –.”
A pounding on the door cuts off my words.
Not now. Why did it have to be now?
“Boss.” It’s Matteo’s voice, one of my top men. “It’s Patton. The Irish… they’ve got your cousin.”
So it’s starting.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Lena
“Wait.”
I walk to the doorway where Luca stands, tall and powerful in his suit, every inch of him looking ready for war. He turns to me, everything taut, his features making him look like he’s going to pounce on me again.
“I know you have to go,” I whisper. “But please, tell me what you were going to say.”
He glances at the door and then glances back at me. “They’re bringing the car around now.”
“I know. I heard. But….”
Perhaps it’s unfair of me to ask him to share this now, but he looked so serious and possessive when he was speaking. He looked so much like he was about to say something incredibly important.
Life-changing.
“You’ll call me a madman.”
I laugh, touching his arm. “Who says I don’t think you’re one already?”
He reaches up, placing his hand atop mine and pressing down softly. I squeeze onto his bicep, feeling the irrepressible muscle.
“I should tell you,” he says, as though just realizing something. “If I don’t, and something happens to me….”
“Please don’t say that.”
“You’d be taken care of.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I move closer to him, near enough to feel the heat of his body. “I’m worried about you.”
“Oh, Lena….” He wraps his arms around me, hugging me tenderly. Even then, I can feel the predator lurking beneath the gentle embrace. “I’ll be fine.”
“You said something could happen.”
He stares, his expression is difficult to read.
“You don’t have to tell me, but –.”
“You’re mine, Lena,” he snarls, cutting me off.
I gasp, and he nods fiercely.
“I keep trying to fight it. I keep trying to tell myself it’s impossible. It doesn’t make sense. But I can’t push it away anymore. I told you no woman has ever interested me. That’s true. But the second you walked through the door at the party, it was like…it was like hitting the reset button.