CHAPTER THREE
ESSEX
STARING INTO MY BATHROOM MIRROR as I pulled my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, I couldn’t help freezing in place at the startling sound of my doorbell abruptly peeling. Old habits died really hard in my world, and I wasn’t expecting anyone.
Truthfully, I was never expecting anyone since I rarely had people over to my tiny apartment. I supposed that behavior was a holdover to my time with my rat bastard of an ex. He’d despised it when we’d had guests pop by our place while we’d been married because he’d said he’d never wanted to share my attention with anyone—not even my parents. I had a different theory. After all, it was terribly difficult to “discipline” a disobedient wife for her sins with a backhand to the face or an elbow to the ribs if there were witnesses sitting in the living room. And because I was so used to his way of doing things, I rarely had anyone inside my home—even now—when I knew that I was technically safe.
Even my best friend, Lennon, had only been inside my place a couple of times, and a quick glance at the clock on my mantle confirmed that she’d already be at her second job. As part owner of a tiny bar called The Spice Rack, Lennie often immersed herself in bookkeeping for the fledgling business during her off hours from hairdressing. Besides, mostly, we hung out at her condo, it was way nicer anyway, or met up at the park or the café near my place. There was no way she’d pop in unannounced…not without at least trying to call me first. She knew how badly the unexpected freaked me out. So, the fact that my doorbell was loudly ringing for the second time had me virtually paralyzed with fear.
When it rang a third time, I knew I had to move and forced myself to go toward the living room. “Just a second,” I called out shakily as my legs trembled. Reaching the front door, I went up on my toes to peek out the peephole, breathing a sigh of relief at the identity of my visitor. Then, I gasped.
Because while the visitor standing outside my door wasn’t here to hurt me, he also wasn’t supposed to be here yet.
Of course, from what I read about him in the financial pages of the paper, Lucca freaking Falconi, aka the Italian Sausage, didn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own. And while he wasn’t exactly uninvited, he was a whole day early for our engagement.
“Essex? It’s Lucca Falconi,” a deep, soothing voice called to me from behind the closed door. “Sweetheart, don’t be frightened. I know you’re in there. I can see the shadow of your feet beneath the door.”
Embarrassed that he knew I was cowering behind the door, I felt my cheeks heat and silently cursed myself for my hang-ups. Hot guy at the door and I go into hiding? Great way to meet people, huh? But I couldn’t help who I was…or who Foster had made me into.
“W-what are you doing here? We aren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow afternoon,” I informed him, my voice wobbling slightly as I shifted from one foot to the other. I knew I wasn’t having a normal reaction. Most women would have opened the door by now. Hell, for a man that looked like he did, with his raw, chiseled good looks, they would have thrown the door open and yanked Lucca inside with them. Then they’d bar that freaking door and hold him hostage until he delivered the multiple friggin’ orgasms a man like him could provide. Me, however? I was a different story altogether, and I wasn’t sure I could open my front door if the apartment was on fire around me. That’s exactly how scared I felt. Thanks for that, Foster, you asshat!
“I actually came by to talk to you about this weekend. Jason, or you probably know him as The Butcher, filled me in a little bit about you and your special circumstances. May I come in and talk to you for a minute? I promise I’ll leave as soon as you ask me to go,” I heard him vow, his deep voice both clear and gentle. It was weird. I almost instinctively trusted that voice, and I didn’t do that with men. Not ever. Not since the dickhead.
“I…I’m not sure,” I said uncertainly, chewing my bottom lip. “Maybe this was a mistake. I’m not sure I’m ready…”
“Essex, you don’t need to be afraid of me, and you are definitely not making a mistake, but I can’t prove that to you unless we talk for a little bit. We can do it through the door if you like. I’ll talk to you through the door all weekend if that’s what you need me to do, bella.”
I grew warm as I heard him used the Italian endearment. “Why the hell would you think I’m beautiful?” I mumbled shyly.
“Because it’s obvious. I’ve seen your picture. It was in the file I was given. You’re gorgeous. Although, your file never mentioned that you know some Italian,” I heard his pleased voice remark as my cheeks grew warmer. Jiminy Cricket! He hadn’t been supposed to actually hear me!
“I only know just a tiny bit. I watched a lot of Fellini films when I was a teenager. I guess I picked up a few words here and there,” I admitted, leaning my shoulder against the door as I took another quick peek out the peephole. Seeing him smiling, I noticed that he had a deep dimple in his left cheek and, somehow, it made him look more human to me. And a hell of a lot hotter, too!
“I like Fellini, too,” he returned easily. “Nights of Cabiria was my favorite. What was yours?”
“I love them all, but I guess La Dolce Vita was my favorite,” I replied softly, leaning my forehead against the door, unable to quite believe I was talking to this Adonis standing just on the other side. Why was I making him wait? He seemed…not harmless, exactly. He was definitely big enough to do some damage. I guess he just seemed so…honorable. Which was crazy, I guess, since essentially the man was a gigolo, or as some would say…a paid whore. Which even little old naïve me knew was NOT exactly a noble profession even if it was a side-profession in his case.
“Ah, a classic. Good choice, sweetheart,” he praised me, his friendly tone drawing me in, making me yearn to trust him. “Are you a big a fan of foreign films then?”
“I watch them when I want to see something different,” I answered quickly, my mind suddenly made up. “Listen, if I let you inside, you promise to go when I tell you to leave?” I asked him as my hand hovered over the brass door knob, my palm sweaty and uncertain as it slipped around the cool metal.
“Absolutely, Essex,” he assured me quietly. “You will never be in any danger from me. That is my vow to you. What’s that old saying? You’ve got to take a chance on somebody sometime? Why not take it with me, cara?”
Taking a deep breath, I quickly decided that it was definitely time to take that risk on somebody, and I quickly twisted my wrist to turn the knob before I could convince myself it was a bad idea. I opened the door just a few inches to cautiously peer out at the extremely tall man standing just over my threshold. He had to at least be six feet two, or three, inches tall, and at my insubstantial five feet four, he towered above me, making me feel small and helpless—not feelings that I enjoyed too much. Swallowing hard as my eyes moved over him, I noted he was dressed in the same jeans and t-shirt I’d seen him in earlier, and he seemed to be even bigger in person. And somehow, he was even more handsome, which I would have sworn earlier would be impossible. “Hi,” I greeted him weakly, lifting a hand to wave feebly at him as I felt his dark chocolate eyes settle on me.
“Hello, cara mia,” he returned, his smile warm and amiable as his eyes warmed. “Thank you for trusting me enough to open the door. I know that had to be hard for you.”
Dropping my eyes from his, I shook my head as my chest tightened. “You have no idea. Whatever information Lennon gave you in my file, it doesn’t come close to describing what I’ve been through,” I murmured, feeling self-conscious. I knew Lennon had given the butcher an overview of what happened to me, but I honestly had no ideas what details she’d divulged. I hoped she hadn’t been too graphic, but knowing Lennon, she’d probably spilled my whole horrifying story.
I gasped as I felt gentle fingers underneath my chin, lifting my head back up. “Never drop your head in shame, Essex. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a survivor, and that is something to be proud of. You are right, though. Your file did only contain the basic overview of what you’ve endured. Maybe someday you’ll tell me the entire story, but until then, I know enough to understand that I need to tread carefully and gently with you, little one,” he said firmly, and I could see the admiration and approval gleaming in his dark eyes.
Licking my lips, I nodded mutely—because really, what else could I say to that? Taking a step back, I gestured for him to come inside and held my breath as he took a step forward. Waiting until he crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind him with a mildly trembling hand and guided him toward my sofa, praying every step of the way that I could handle this. Looking around my small apartment, I was glad that I was a neat person. Everything was in its place. I’d done the dishes and the laundry yesterday, so there were no stray items laying around the room. It was both clean and tidy. I didn’t have much, but what I did own was nice and well cared for. My place was nothing fancy, but it was mine. All mine, built from nothing, and I was proud of what I’d achieved. “Please sit down,” I invited him, nodding toward my yellow overstuffed couch. It had been a thrift store find, but I had loved it instantly when I’d found it. It was soft and cushiony, great for either taking a long nap or curling up with a good book, two things which I’d done a lot of since getting away from Foster. “May I get you anything to drink?” I asked as I watched him lower his massive body to the center seat.
“No, thank you,” he refused with another smile. “I actually dropped by to talk to you about our weekend. I just wanted to get a feel for what you were looking for during our time together.”
Rubbing my damp palms against my worn blue jeans, I bent to take the seat beside him. The sofa was the only furniture I had in this room besides the painted coffee table in front of us that I’d purchased from a yard sale a few weeks back. Silently, I debated how best to answer his inquiry. True, I was paying for his time, but I knew if I was to get the most out of this experience, then I was going to have to honestly communicate with him. It wasn’t fair to expect him to read my mind, especially since I doubted that I was his traditional kind of client. Let’s face it, there was nothing normal about me. Uncomfortably, I asked, “What exactly do you know about me, Mr. Falconi?”
“Call me Lucca, please,” he requested pleasantly. “As far as what information I was given, I know that you were in an abusive marriage for over three years to a man that is now, thankfully, deceased. I know he hospitalized you at least once…”
“Three times,” I corrected huskily, grimacing at the remembered pain for those hospital stays.
“Pardon?” he growled, his dark eyes narrowing ominously.
“He put me in the hospital three times,” I clarified truthfully, clenching my fingers into fists against my knees.
“Jesus,” Lucca breathed, his fingers clenching into fists where his hands rested on his knees. “I’m sorry, Essex. I only knew about once. No woman should have to have endured what you have.”
“It’s okay,” I declared with a dismissive shrug. “That part of my life is over,” I reminded him as well as myself. Eager to get this meeting done with, I continued, “What else do you know?”
I watched his face tighten as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down once before he slowly licked his lips and went on. “I know that you have scars, both emotional and physical,” he murmured softly, his eyes softening as they settled back on my face. “I know you’re trying very hard to rebuild your life, even starting a new job soon at County Hospital soon. I know that you’re concerned about how you’ll interact with and respond to male patients. I know you often have panic attacks, and you’re worried that those episodes will negatively impact you on your new job. I know you’re only twenty-two, and you’re much too young to be going through this. I know that you feel very alone right now. I know you are a beautiful woman that has been trapped in a horrible nightmare for far too long. And I know that I want to help show you that not every man is evil….especially not me.”
Staring at the floor, I suddenly felt cold. This man knew a lot about me—much more than had been in that file he had. And scarily, almost all of what he’d said was chillingly accurate. “Proving that to me would be a tall order for any man, Mr. Falcon—I mean, Lucca. I don’t trust easily. I’m not even sure I can trust at all.”
“You can,” he stated decisively as he reached out to cover my hand with his, the warm feel of his palm covering mine instantly warming the cool skin. “It’s just going to take a little while for you to learn how. The good news is that I can be a patient man.”
“I know most of your clients want…well, you know. You’re an escort, after all. Intimacy is a natural part of the program, I guess,” I babbled nervously, pausing to sink my teeth into my lower lip when I realize what a child I must sound like. What healthy twenty-two-year-old woman wouldn’t want a good fuck? Why the hell can’t I even utter the word?
“You’re talking about sex?” he asked with a small smile. “I won’t lie, Essex. I’m a man and I do enjoy the activity. I also can’t say that I wouldn’t love to show you how much passion and pleasure can be found in the act with the right person. But, as you know, sex doesn’t have to be a selection on our menu for this weekend. That will be a decision left entirely and completely up to you. Just know that if you allow me to worship your gorgeous body, not a moment of that time will be painful,” he assured me in a deep serious tone that I just somehow knew was fully sincere. “As for my status as an escort,” he continued slowly, “You should know that I’ve actually quit The Meat Market. As you may or may not know, I’m a fairly successful real estate broker and independently wealthy aside from my day job. I work because I enjoy it. I was never escorting for the money. I was involved with the Meat Market to help out an old college friend when his grandpa died and he inherited a failing butcher shop. His family business was in a tough spot, and a side-business of escorting lonely ladies seemed like the perfect way to help his business get back in the black. He wouldn’t accept my money outright, but he agreed to take my help in another way. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoyed my time there, but I don’t really do that any longer.”
“Then how are you here in my apartment?” I asked, confused.
“You are…a special case. The butcher thought you and I might fit well together. After meeting you, I know he was right.”
My eyes widened at that information. “Oh, my goodness, Lucca! I don’t want to drag you back into something you no longer have any interest in doing!” Running a frustrated hand through my hair, I froze as Lucca reached out to capture my arm in a gentle grip when I would have bolted off the sofa where we sat.
“Essex, nobody drags me anywhere that I don’t wish to go. I am not a guy that is easily moved. Trust me, here with you is exactly where I want to be. I merely wanted to explain that I’m no longer taking any other engagements and haven’t been for quite some time. There are no other women in my life, past or present, that will be a worry to you. In other words, I am no cheat. I haven’t taken any clients for quite a while. I never intended to take any again. I tell you this because I want you to feel safe with me. When Jason…I mean, the butcher…told me about you, however, I knew that I had to meet you. I want to help you any way I can.”
Blinking as I let his words sink in, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace settle over me—almost as if I’d finally found someone who completely understood me. “You’re serious,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
“I am,” he confirmed, his hand lifting to run a sole finger down my cheek in a way that seemed both oddly sweet and wrenchingly tender. “Starting tomorrow evening, I’m going to begin helping you get over your fears and show you how a real man treats a woman that he truly cares about.”
“How?” I asked suspiciously. The last thing I wanted was to get sucked into another bad situation by a guy that seemed to be a catch but turned out to be a monster. Been there, done that, not ever going back again.
“By showing you how a man should treat a woman…how she should always be treated. I’m going to pamper and spoil you. I’m going to indulge every whim you have. We’re going to talk and laugh and get to know each other. I may not be able to undo the damage that has been done to you, Essex, but I promise you, I’m going to show you that there are still good men left in the world.”
“O-okay,” I agreed nervously, desperately hoping that this guy was on the up-and-up. “I’ll just get my checkbook and—”
“You’re not paying me,” he cut me off firmly, his tone implacable as his jaw hardened and his nostrils flared.
It sounded as if he was insulted that I’d offer to pay for his services…but I’d hired him, hadn’t I? “But…you’re an escort…at least for this weekend. I have to pay for your time, Lucca,” I argued as my brows drew together.
Rising from the couch, he looked down at me and smiled, lifting a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against my cheek again with such tender affection that it brought tears to my eyes even as my body braced for pain.
“You can pay me in smiles and laughs, bella. Nothing more,” he informed me stubbornly, his voice unwavering and uncompromising. “And one day, when I lift my hand to caress your face, you’ll know in both your heart and your mind that I will never touch you with anything other than tenderness.”
“It’s a habit,” I whispered self-consciously, humiliated that I was such a nutjob that I couldn’t just act like a typical woman for two seconds. “My body is conditioned to experience pain. I guess I just expect it.”
“Then that is one habit I look forward to helping you break,” Lucca returned softly, his caring eyes resolved as they met mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening for dinner, cara. I’ll cook.”
“You’ll cook?” I echoed incredulously, the idea that this powerful man would prepare me a meal nearly preposterous. I’d been with Foster for years and he’d never so much as gotten me a cup of coffee in the morning.
“Yes. I’m going to cook for you. Your job for the entire weekend is to let me pamper you, Essex.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I replied truthfully with a timid smile.
“Then it is a very good thing that I love a challenge. Until then, bella, be well,” he returned before bending to brush a warm kiss to my cheek.
I caught my breath as his warm, dry lips seemed to linger at the corner of my mouth, almost as if he was waiting for some kind of signal from me that I wanted him to continue. And strangely, I did. It was as if my almost two years of celibacy caught up with me in just a few heartbeats, and my whole body felt as if poised on the edge of something…spectacular. All I had to do was twist my head a scant inch and his lips would be grazing mine.
As if he could sense my need, I felt his body crowd mine, the soft cotton of his t-shirt rasping against my sensitive skin. And I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know what the dusty rose color of his lips tasted like.
Diving toward his kissable mouth before I could talk myself out of it, I whimpered as his lips met mine. Moaning as our mouths molded, I reached up to grip his wide shoulders, holding on tight as my world spun out of control.
For the rest of my life, I’d never forget the flavor of his tongue tangling with mine.
Fresh rain and spearmint and it was divine.
It trumped every kiss I’d ever been given, including my first one and the one I’d received on my wedding day.
It was—without doubt—the single best kiss of my life, and I wanted it to last forever. Unfortunately, I must not have been on the clock with Lucca yet because he pulled away all too soon. He must have seen the disappointment in my eyes because he quickly whispered against my lips, “If I don’t leave now, I won’t leave at all, angel, and you are not ready for more of me just yet. Think of me until tomorrow, amore.”
And with that, he was gone.
He must have moved like the wind. One moment I felt the heat of his body pressed against mine and the next, he’d vanished. And staring at my closed front door, I couldn’t help wondering if I was insane…or he was.