Rolling to my back on the plush mattress, I stared up at the beamed ceiling as the warm light of morning shone over the bed.

A good crying jag had a way of leaving a person feeling wrecked, and I was wrecked. Completely wrung out. At the end of my metaphorical rope.

I raked my fingers through my messy hair, inwardly cringing at the scene I’d made last night. I hadn’t planned to let the waterworks loose, but once the tears had started, I hadn’t been able to stop them. Not even when Luc had come barging into the bathroom.

I hated that he’d seen me like that. I hated even more that I’d let myself get to that point.

Sighing, I dropped my hand against the comforter and glanced across the empty bed. At some point, Luc had carried me here, tugged one of his big cotton T-shirts over my head, and tucked me underneath the covers. He’d stayed with me last night—probably because I’d freaked him out with my emotional breakdown and he hadn’t been sure what I’d do next—and though he’d wrapped his arms around me and held me, he hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t apologized or reassured me everything was going to be okay or even told me he loved me. He’d simply stroked my arms and hair and any parts of me he could reach until I’d drifted to sleep.

Pain lanced my chest—so much pain, I closed my eyes and breathed through the worst of it so it wouldn’t trigger another waterfall of tears.

God, I hated this. I hated being this emotional, messy girl. I wasn’t a crier. Before meeting Luc, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d cried in my entire life. I was on the verge of crying again right now, dammit, and I had no idea why.

“Stop,” I snapped at myself, throwing back the covers. So big whoop. Your life pretty much sucks right now. I crossed the floor and jerked my dresser drawer open. Stop moping and deal with it.

I yanked a pair of shorts free and shoved the drawer closed with my hip. Then stilled because...I had no clue how to deal with this mess. Luc had kept so much from me. Yesterday, it was clear he was still keeping things from me. I couldn’t make him include me in his life if he didn’t want to. And I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—stay with a man who didn’t view me as a true partner in every sense of the word.

My gaze strayed to the thick diamond band on my left hand, and my eyes burned all over again.

I loved him. Madly. Without reason. But something inside me was terrified that love was not going to be enough. Something kept holding me back. Something I didn’t understand. Something I had no idea how to fix.

I pulled on the shorts and crossed into the bathroom with limbs that were heavy and slow. Somehow, I managed to brush my teeth, but my stomach was a mass of nerves, and I was afraid it might revolt at any second. I didn’t want to face Luc. Didn’t want to instigate the conversation we needed to have. Didn’t want to hear what he would say. But I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t stand who I was becoming. I was making both of us miserable.

My conversation with Felicity yesterday at the lake rolled through my head as I wandered out of the bathroom. I had options. They weren’t great options, and if I went there, it would undoubtedly cause problems between Luc and Marco, but I was fairly confident Felicity would help me. She’d helped Sela, after all. She knew what it was like to be in my shoes. I just wished I knew what it was like to be in hers.

“Fucking stop,” I said to myself again.

The scent of fresh brewed coffee greeted me as I moved into the quiet living room. Nerves bounced around in my stomach as I shuffled across the tile floor, listening to the sounds of dishes clinking in the kitchen.

I stilled just before I reached the arched doorway to the kitchen and drew a deep breath for courage.

“I’m someone completely different when I’m with him...”

From out of nowhere, my friend Elena’s words from the last email she’d sent me before her death circled through my memory. At the time, Laney had been writing about the man she’d fallen for. About the obsessive relationship that had ultimately been her undoing. And as I stood outside the kitchen door listening to Luc moving around only yards away from me, I was suddenly struck by the fact I’d said those words to myself after I’d gotten involved with Luc, drawing similarities between our relationship and Laney and her mystery man’s illicit affair.

Only...the truth was...those words didn’t pertain to me. I’d never been someone different with Luc. The times we’d been together—before all the crap with his family had consumed us—had been the best of my life. He’d pushed me, emotionally and sexually, in ways I hadn’t known were possible, and yes, part of me had changed with him, but not in any way that was bad. That part of me I’d kept closed off to protect my heart had simply come awake. My soul had burst to life. The real me had finally broken free. I hadn’t been numb then. I hadn’t been going through the motions of life anymore. I’d been alive. And I wanted to be alive again.

My eyes fluttered open, and before I could talk myself out of it, I stepped into the kitchen.

Luc glanced toward the doorway when I entered, and his stormy-gray eyes held mine as I stood there, trying to think of something to say.

He was wearing loose jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched seductively across his strong shoulders, and my heart bumped at the sight of him, standing barefoot in the small kitchen, stirring something in a pot on the stove.

He was cooking. He’d cooked me breakfast yesterday, but I hadn’t let myself appreciate it. I hadn’t know he could cook. He’d had people to do that for us everywhere we’d been before this. There was so much about the man I didn’t know, and I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything.

“Hey,” he said. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I tried to be quiet.”

He didn’t smile. And I couldn’t read his expression, which didn’t ease my stress any.

I licked my lips, feeling insanely self-conscious as I ran a hand through my hair. “You didn’t.”

“Good. This is almost ready. Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll bring you some coffee in a minute. I set the table on the patio. It’s a really nice morning out there.”

“Okay.” I glanced toward the screen door, my stomach a mass of nerves as I crossed the kitchen and pushed it open.

Luc was right. It was a gorgeous morning. Sunlight glinted over the lake, making it sparkle as if thousands of diamonds were scattered across the water. Tall trees rose on both sides of the curved brick patio, overhanging the pergola and wisteria above to provide shade. A small circular table sat in the middle of the patio surrounded by four padded chairs. I took the closest, gazing at the bouquet of fresh wildflowers Luc must have picked this morning, wondering how long he’d been up, what he’d been doing all morning, and how long he’d stayed with me last night in that bed.

“Here.” He set a bowl of oatmeal in front of me, already topped with cinnamon, sugar, raisins, and a splash of milk, then placed a steaming cappuccino near my hand. I’ll get mine and be right back.”

We didn’t have a cappuccino maker in the cottage. Not one I’d seen anyway. If we’d had one, I was sure Luc would have made cappuccinos yesterday. It was the one coffee drink I’d discovered in Rome he really liked.

He brought his own cappuccino and bowl of oatmeal to the table and sat beside me. “Dig in before it gets cold.”

Swallowing hard, I reached for my spoon and took a small bite, blinking hard against the burn in my eyes all over again because he’d remembered exactly how I liked my oatmeal. I’d only ordered it once with him—when we’d been in Venice—but he’d paid attention. He paid attention to everything, even things I thought he’d missed.

We ate in silence with the water lapping softly at the lake’s shore and birds chirping in the trees around us. I did my best but could only stomach about half of the oatmeal, especially with all the nerves spinning in my gut. Luc finished his breakfast and pushed his bowl to the middle of the table, and as I set down my spoon and sipped my cappuccino, I expected him to tell me to keep eating, but he didn’t. He just sat back and stared out at the lake, looking somber and the slightest bit sad. And as I studied at him and tried not to make it look obvious I was studying at him, I realized the stress of what was happening between us was taking its toll on him as well.

I saw lines on his face that hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. A couple very faint gray hairs near his temple I hadn’t noticed before. And a sorrow in his features that told me our relationship—I—was a burden he shouldn’t be worrying about when he had so many other things to deal with.

Guilt pushed heavily against my shoulders, sending that burn of tears right back into action. A guilt that seemed impossible to crawl out from under. I closed my eyes and fought it, trying like hell not to cry again, forcing myself to stop being a coward.

“I...I’m sorry about last night,” I managed, my voice raspy and weak. I shook my head, hating this never-ending tension between us. “I shouldn’t have gone out to the living room to—”

“I’m not.”

My eyes popped open. Sure I’d heard him wrong, I stared at him.

He met my gaze head-on, his incredibly unique eyes no longer somber or sad but as fierce as a hurricane. “I’m not sorry about last night, and I don’t want you to be either.”

For a heartbeat, I didn’t move. Was sure I’d imagined that answer. But the longer his gaze held mine and the deeper he looked into my eyes, the harder it was for me to believe him. Especially when those emotions were welling inside me all over again, feeding off every one of my fears and neuroses and doubts.

I closed my eyes, willing the dam to hold so he wouldn’t see. “Don’t say that,” I whispered. “You don’t have to say things you don’t mean just make me feel bet—”

My chair jerked to the left. Tensing, I looked up to see Luc leaning over me, his hands on both armrests of my seat, his face only inches from mine, his eyes as wild and stormy as they’d ever been.

“Get this through your head right now. Everything I’ve ever said to you has been the truth. I don’t say things I don’t mean. I’m not sorry about last night. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for weeks. I want to put my hands on you right this second, only I’m fighting that urge because I don’t want to scare you any more than I already have. And I guarantee later today when I’m gone, I’m going to be plotting all the ways I can put my hands on you tonight when I get back.

“I know I fucked things up, and I’m trying like hell to fix them, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying to you. I didn’t tell you the details of what happened with Dante yesterday because I didn’t know how to tell you without stressing you out. I handled it badly, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that everything I’m doing is only making things worse between us, but I swear to you that’s not my intention. I’m not trying to hurt you, Natalie. I’m trying to protect you. And I promise I’ll try to be better about sharing with you what’s going on. But don’t you dare tell me what I think or feel or mean or want, mannaggia. I know what I want. I want you. I want us. And more than anything, I want you to believe in me the way you did before everything went to shit, because nothing I’m doing to try to get us out of this fuckstorm means a goddamn thing if I don’t have you on my side.”

My heart stuttered as I stared at him, his words spinning in my head in the silence that followed. Then, very slowly, it picked up speed until it was a whir in my ears.

Of all the things I’d expected him to say in response to my apology, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t even close to how I thought he’d react.

“I...” My tongue was dry, so dry I had to swallow to find the words. “I do believe in you,” I whispered, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. “I’m just...scared.”

“Cazzo. I’m scared too, but if you give in to that fear, they win. They don’t want us together. You know that, don’t you? All the shit happening around us and the fact you can’t leave this estate is because they’re afraid of you. They don’t want you in my life. But you know what? I don’t give a righteous fuck what they want. This is our life, not theirs. I have no intention of giving you up. You’re mine and I’m yours, and everyone else can go to hell as far as I’m concerned.”

He captured my mouth in a hard, swift kiss that stole my breath. It wasn’t brutal, but it wasn’t sweet either. It was possessive and domineering, and when he dipped into my mouth and tasted me with his sinful tongue, I felt like the center of the universe, like every moment was spinning outward from this one.

Spinning outward from us.

He drew back long before I was ready to let him go, and, breathing hard, all I could do was melt under his assertive gaze.

He rose to his full height, then grasped the back of my chair and carefully slid me up to the table once more as if I weighed nothing. “Now eat the rest of your oatmeal before it gets cold,” he said more gently than before. “You need the calories, angioletto. You’ve lost too much weight recently.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and reached for my coffee cup. “I’ll heat this up for you.”

I blinked against another rush of tears as he disappeared into the house, still spinning from the things he’d said and the way it had completely thawed my anger and hurt and even some of the resentment I’d been holding on to. He’d told me more about his feelings in two short minutes than he had in weeks of dancing awkwardly around each other. And even though it hadn’t solved everything, even though it didn’t fix the issues with his family and his House that still lingered between us, it made me think...maybe...

Maybe there was a chance for us after all. All I had to do was trust.

Not just in him, though. Not even in us. If I wanted this to work, I had to trust in that elusive thing called love.

And I had to trust that this love wasn’t destined to destroy us both.

I stayed on the patio and finished my coffee while Luc went inside to shower. He’d told me he had to go see Dante this morning, and though I knew that was the whole point of our trip to Italy, I wasn’t thrilled he was going back to his parents’ estate.

Unable to sit still for long, I wandered toward the bedroom, the familiar scents of jasmine and vanilla and cedar I always associated with him drifting my way, luring me closer. When I rounded the corner, I spotted him standing near the window in black slacks and wing-tipped dress shoes, sliding the cuff links into the hooks on his dress shirt.

A wave of heat spread through my body as I stilled in the doorway and watched him twist his arm so he could slide the cufflink through the slot on his sleeve. Muscles in his shoulders and back flexed beneath the fancy white fabric. His hair was damp at the edges from his shower, his strong jaw covered in a thin layer of sexy scruff, his dress shirt open down the middle to show off the hard ridge of muscles in his abdomen and those sexy pecs I loved to run my fingers over.

His head lifted, and he glanced toward the doorway with his flawed and captivating irises, stilling with his hand on the cuff of his sleeve when he caught sight of me standing in the doorway. “What?”

My breasts tingled, and my whole body ached to be touched by him again. Only this time, I promised myself I wouldn’t be blind to what was so very obvious to me now. “What do you mean, what?”

“You’re looking at me.”

“I know. I like looking at you.” I crossed toward him, took the cufflink he was struggling with, and turned his arm over. “Here. Let me.”

A shiver rushed down my spine as I worked the cuff link through the buttonhole. His eyes were locked on my face while I fixed his sleeve, then pulled the two halves of his shirt together, working the buttons from the top down for him. That warmth inside me grew hotter. I liked when he watched me as he was doing now. As if he couldn’t take his eyes off me. And I’d missed it, more than I’d let myself realize until this very moment.

I slid the buttons into each hole, taking my time, skimming my fingers over his broad chest as much as I could. It was one of my favorite parts of his body. Strong, lean, perfect to press my cheek against when he held me like he had last night. I’d never told him that. There was a lot I hadn’t told him. So many things we’d yet to share even though we were technically married.

“There.” I left the top button undone, knowing he wouldn’t wear a tie, and smoothed my hands down his chest, unable to resist. He hated ties. When we’d been in Rome, meeting with fashion designers during that week I’d been his assistant, I’d watched him rip his tie off more times than I could count. He was insanely handsome in whatever he wore, but I had to admit, I liked my Luc more casual. I liked to see him relaxed and at ease. I told myself I was going to work hard not to add unnecessary stress to his life from now on.

I let my hands slip from his body and drift to my sides, knowing I didn’t have a reason to keep touching him. But I didn’t move back as he tucked his shirttails into his slacks. I stayed close and focused on the buttons of his shirt, feeling his warmth and inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne. Savoring it and him. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure. Hopefully only a couple of hours.”

I nodded, wishing he’d tell me more, knowing he wouldn’t.

“I was thinking that when I got back, maybe we could spend the afternoon together.”

“You were?”

“Maybe a picnic?” His hands made quick work of his belt and buckle. “We shouldn’t leave the property, but this estate is big. There are plenty of places we can go to get away from everyone. And I...” A nervous look filled his eyes as they darted away, then came back to focus on me. “There are things we need to talk about. Things I want you to understand.”

I swallowed hard, part of me afraid to hear all about those things he suddenly wanted to tell me. It was crazy. Information was what I craved, yet at the same time, information was the thing that had sent me running from Luc when things between us had been nearly perfect.

“But more than that”—he stepped close and closed his large, warm fingers around my smaller and much colder ones—“I just want to be alone with you, Natalie. Without any distractions or anyone watching. Just you and me.”

The honesty I saw in his eyes made me absolutely weak. “You do?” I whispered.

“Disperatamente.” He lifted his hands to my face, and moved into me, closing the distance between us until he was so close, I realized if I wasn’t careful, I could drown in him. Just as I had before. “I’m wild for you, angioletto. Don’t you know that by now? I’ll never have enough of you. Everything I’ve done, everything I’m doing...it’s all for you. For us.”

That word—us—brought tears to my eyes.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, and as I sucked in a breath and opened to him, he didn’t just kiss me. He claimed me. Dominating not just my mouth, but my body and soul as well. Just as he’d said he’d do on our first night together in Rome. Precisely as I’d secretly wanted him to do from the moment I’d awoken on his island. Exactly as my friend Elena’s mystery man had done when he’d ruined her life.

That realization circled in my head as Luc drew back. Breathless and light-headed, I wobbled on my feet, but Luc’s arms were right there to pull me close and hold me tight against him. My brain said to fight the hold, to push back, to be the independent woman Elena hadn’t been, but my heart—the heart Luc had touched the last time we’d been in Italy—faltered, and as his familiar scent surrounded me, all I could do was press my cheek to that perfect spot on his chest and listened to his heartbeat while he played with my hair. To savor a moment I craved and didn’t want to let go of.

Long minutes later, he sighed, and against my ear, I heard the low rumble of his voice when he said, “I have to go.”

“I know.”

But he didn’t release me. And I reveled in that knowledge and held him closer.

Finally, he drew back, but I recognized the mischievous spark in his eyes when he looked down at me.

My stomach tightened. “What?”

He slid his hand down my arm, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Come here, and I’ll show you.”

He drew me into the bathroom and tugged me to a stop in front of him. The bathtub was full and steaming and filled with bubbles. Candles illuminated the room, making the whole place smell of lavender, and three different paperback books, along with a small stack of fashion magazines, were positioned on the small table to the right of the bathtub. On the counter, I spotted a bottle of fancy French champagne in a silver ice bucket, and orange juice topped with a strawberry in a cut-crystal wineglass.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

Luc massaged my shoulders with his big hands. “How you’re going to relax while I’m gone. I stole the books from Fee’s library.”

He leaned close and breathed hot over the sensitive skin behind my ear. “And I remember how much you like your baths.”

My cheeks heated when I realized what he was referring to. The bath I’d taken in the middle of the night at his parents’ estate because I hadn’t been able to sleep without him. The one I’d fantasized about him taking with me. The one he’d caught me touching myself in as I’d been thinking about him and all the amazing ways he made me feel.

Desire roared through my blood. A desire so strong, I couldn’t fight it a moment longer.

I didn’t care if it made me weak. I turned into him, pushed to my toes, and pressed my mouth to his, trembling with an overpowering need only he could sate. He groaned and opened to my kiss, stroking his tongue with mine as he pushed me back against the counter so he could take control of my mouth and my body and every one of my wants and desires. And I let him. I willingly gave it all up to him because this was the Luc I’d been missing for so long. The one who could awe me with a single act of kindness and melt my body with one forceful touch.

“Ah, angioletto,” he breathed against my lips, holding me so close, I could feel his straining erection against my belly. “If you keep that up, I’ll never get out of here.”

I fisted the back of his shirt. “Stay and share that bath with me.”

He growled and kissed me again. “Dio, you are a vixen. Tormenting me with things that gut me to refuse.” Sighing, he pressed his lips against the tip of my nose. “But I can’t this morning. I promise I will be back before you even miss me, though.”

“Impossible.”

His lips curled at the edges, not a full smile like he’d shown me in Venice, but more relaxed than I’d seen him in weeks. “Tell you what. Touch yourself and think of me. And when I return, you can tell me all the naughty things you fantasized I was doing to you in this bath.”

I drew in a shaky breath and pressed my lips to his again in a soft, gentle kiss, unable to believe that only a few short hours ago, I’d thought everything between us was doomed for eternity. And now...

Now there was a chance we might be okay.

“You’d better be quick,” I mumbled against his lips.

“I will drive ninety there and back. I promise.” He kissed my nose again and released me.

Smoothing out my shirt—well, his shirt, technically, since I hadn’t been able to take it off this morning—I sighed and said, “That won’t work. I can’t have you getting in an accident. Seventy max.”

One corner of his lips curled in a sexy smirk. Reaching for my left hand, he lifted my fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss right over my ring. The ring I now knew, thanks to Felicity, he’d designed specifically for me, and not for the reason I’d assumed. “Seventy it is, amore della mia vita. Now get in that tub and relax. I want you soft and pink and ready for me when I return.”

His fingers slipped from mine. He moved back into the bedroom and reached for his suit jacket from the bed. I watched from the doorway as he slid his arms into the expensive fabric and shot me one last smoldering look before disappearing into the living room.

The front door opened and closed, followed by the faint sound of his car door slamming and the engine humming to life.

When he was gone, I glanced down at the tub he’d filled and ran my fingers through the frothy bubbles, a sense of hope I hadn’t felt in weeks struggling to break free from the ball of worry that had been knotted so tight inside me.

This was a first step. We still had a long way to go to get back to where we’d been before, but the Luc I’d fallen for—my Luc—was still with me. I wouldn’t let his family come between us again. We were stronger than them. We’d survived so much. They couldn’t break us. I believed that. I had to believe it.

Because any other truth would absolutely shatter me.

My bath was amazing. By the time I got out, I felt better than I had in days. Relaxed, refreshed, rejuvenated. But that feeling slowly deteriorated as minutes turned into hours with no sign of Luc and no word about what was taking so long.

By four o’clock, I knew something was wrong. Unable to concentrate on the paperback I’d been trying to read for the last two hours, I tossed the book onto the table beside me on the patio and pushed off the lounge chair where I’d been relaxing in the shade. The main house was quiet as I approached. No sign of Luc’s car in the circular drive. No sign of Marco’s either.

I knocked even though Felicity had told me to come in whenever I wanted. I still wasn’t comfortable imposing on her space. Caprice, Felicity’s housekeeper, met me at the door with a blank expression.

“Miss Natalie.” The older woman stepped back with a nod so I could enter. “You are here to see Miss Felicity?”

“Yes.” Caprice’s accent was thick, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a tight bun. Last night when we’d been here for dinner, she’d been dressed in a light blue button-front dress with a white apron. Today, the dress was the same but black. The woman was all business, but I didn’t mind. It meant I didn’t have to worry about small talk, which I wasn’t in the mood to handle, especially when I remembered what Luc had told me about spies lingering even here. “If she’s busy I can come back later.”

“She in her room.” Caprice closed the door at my back with a snap. “Wait here.”

The older woman’s footsteps echoed like doomed drumbeats as she stalked toward the hallway and disappeared around a corner. Alone in the entryway, I studied a fresco on the high stucco wall and told myself to relax. I was working on the whole trusting thing, right? Just because Luc wasn’t back yet didn’t mean something bad had happened—or was going to happen. It just meant his family or his House was monopolizing his time and that he hadn’t had a chance yet to call me.

Footsteps sounded on the travertine tile to my left, and I turned to see Caprice stalking my way once more. “Miss Felicity said for you to join her in her suite. This way.”

“Thanks.” I followed Caprice down a long hall, then up a short flight of curved stairs to the second level. From the outside, the main house didn’t seem all that spectacular—just a stone farmhouse with arched windows—but inside, it was rustic and charming with beamed ceilings, arched doorways, and old-world touches I knew were Felicity’s influence.

Caprice stopped outside a set of arched double doors and held out her arm. “Through here.”

I nodded and stepped into what looked like a sitting room with a big fireplace, wide windows that overlooked the rolling Tuscan hills, and comfy chairs. Above the fireplace was a huge painting of an ancient stone castle set on a lush green hill overlooking the water.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Felicity said to the left of the fireplace where she stood leaning against an arched doorway with her arms crossed. “It’s my favorite painting. A friend sent it to me after I moved here.”

“It really is. Is the castle real?”

“It’s my childhood home. Gadleigh Castle’s been in my family for years. It’s about forty-five minutes from Edinburgh on the water. My parents live there now, though my father prefers to spend most of his days at their home down in Wales. Scotland can be quite cold.”

It didn’t look cold to me. It looked absolutely gorgeous. And a million miles from Italy, which seemed like a fantasy just about now.

When I finally pulled my gaze from the painting, I found Felicity studying me with a curious expression. Only something about her eyes seemed...different.

I stared at her a heartbeat, then realized what it was. “Your eyes are brown? Yesterday, they were pale green.”

“Oh that. Yeah. I forgot I had my colored contacts in. I wear these when I don’t want to be recognized. My pale eyes give away my noble blood more than that castle.” She nodded toward the painting.

“Noble blood?”

“Luc didn’t explain that?” When I shook my head, she said, “You know about the five main Houses, right?”

I nodded, remembering what Luc had told me. She was part of House Merrick, the English House, and her father was the head of House Merrick.

“The nobles are all about keeping the bloodlines pure. There are certain characteristics that are markers of noble blood—very pale eyes like mine, two different colored eyes like Luc’s brother Dante, a coloboma like Luc has, even a lock of white hair, which Luc’s sister Ariana has. Technically, they’re recessive traits that show up when both parents carry the same recessive genetic disorder. Most people in the world would consider it a flaw. The nobles in our world think it’s a gift.” She huffed. “They’re wacked. Of course, that tends to happen when your breeding pool isn’t too big.”

I didn’t know a whole lot about genetics, but Luc’s father had the same keyhole pupil as Luc, and his mother had pale blue eyes like Gio. “Are you saying nobles can only marry other nobles with the same traits?”

“Pretty much.” She pushed away from the doorframe. “Don’t worry. I’m not talking about incest. The bloodlines aren’t that compromised. Yet. I think Luc’s parents are technically cousins, but like twelve steps removed. Nothing to freak out about. But that is one of the reasons his father is not happy he married you.”

An uneasy feeling rolled through my belly. That made sense, but was it enough to want me dead?

I wanted to ask that but didn’t know if Caprice was anywhere listening. But before I could figure out a way to phrase it, I realized what else about her looked different. She was dressed in leggings and an oversized T-shirt that fell off one shoulder, her hair pulled back in a messy bun signifying a casual day at home. But her heavily made-up eyes and flawless makeup told another story.

“You were in the process of getting ready to go out, weren’t you? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” She waved a hand and turned, motioning me to follow. “I was just messing around, trying to decide what to do with myself for tonight. Come on back and help me.”

I had no idea what she meant, but, still wanting to know more, I followed her through the doorway and into the master bedroom. Another stone fireplace took up one wall, fronted by plush white chairs and a low coffee table. More arched windows looked out at the countryside, but my focus was pinned on the four-poster bed strewn with multiple dresses and shoes and wigs and masks.

“What is all this?” I asked, moving toward the bed and fingering what looked like a strapless leather dress I doubted was long enough to cover Felicity’s ass.

Felicity perched her hands on her hips and sighed. “My dilemma at the moment. I need something sexy and revealing that I haven’t used before. That one I wore several months ago, so I don’t think I can use it again so soon. It’d look great on you, though.”

Confused, I glanced from the barely there leather outfit in my hand to Felicity.

She laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a ho. I told you I do this sometimes. It’s for the party.”

I blinked, completely clueless as to her meaning. And then it hit me. Hard. Like a punch straight to the gut.

Holy shit. “They’re holding one of those parties tonight?”

“Yeah. Didn’t Luc call y—” Her mouth snapped shut when she saw the fire in my eyes, then she muttered, “Shit. He didn’t call you, did he? Dammit, Luc.” She moved toward me before I could step away. “Don’t be upset. I just found out about it myself. Marco texted about a half hour ago to tell me he wouldn’t be home for dinner. If Luc didn’t contact you, I’m sure there’s a reason.”

My vision turned red as I looked back down at the dress. “Sure.”

Only I knew the reason he hadn’t called. Because he didn’t want me to know about the fucking party. The son of a bitch had lied to me again. He’d fed me a line of bullshit this morning to keep me quiet and docile. And like the naïve fool I’d been before, I’d fallen for his lies hook, line, and sinker.

Dammit. I’d believed him when he’d told me he wanted to spend the day with me. I’d believed him when he’d said everything he was doing was all to keep me safe. Anger and stupidity bubbled inside me like molten lava. Leaving me here all alone so he could attend an orgy was not in any way keeping me safe.

Revulsion pushed bile straight up my throat when I envisioned him in the middle of a party just like the one Gio had taken me to on Long Island. Fucking some tattooed beta slave had absolutely nothing to do with my goddamn safety.

My skin turned hot and tingled with an uncontrollable urge to get the hell out of this country once and for all. I was so consumed by my rage, I didn’t realize I’d moved toward the door until Felicity grabbed my hand.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure Luc would have told you if he’d been able to. Marco’s not watched as carefully as Luc. They probably took Luc’s phone from him so he couldn’t contact you.”

Felicity could be right, but I was too worked up to accept that explanation. All I could think about was the fact I’d been duped—again.

“Tell you what.” Felicity squeezed my hand. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“Oh hell no.”

“Just hear me out.” Her fingers tightened around mine when I tried to pull away. “No one will even know you’re there. I’m good at camouflage.” She nodded toward the bed strewn with articles of clothing. “I can put you in something that will completely disguise you. You can see for yourself that Luc’s not up to anything nefarious, which I know he’s not. Then you can leave and come back here without his ever knowing you were gone.”

I met her gaze, debating my options. I didn’t like that she knew I didn’t trust Luc, but I had to admit I needed proof. I couldn’t go forward on blind faith anymore. It had burned me before, and I wasn’t about to be stupid. Not when my sanity was riding on whatever truth awaited me.

“Are you sure it’s safe? Luc and Marco both said I shouldn’t leave the esta—”

“Trust me. You’re safe with me. I know how to get in and out of these parties and blend without being noticed. You could walk right past Luc in one of my disguises, and he’d never know it was you.”

I still wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t stay with Luc if I didn’t know what he was doing. And I wouldn’t allow myself to be pushed around a moment longer. Before I could stop myself, I said, “Okay.”

“Good.” Felicity’s features relaxed, and she squeezed my hand in reassurance, but something in her eyes still looked worried. “You’ll see. Everything will be fine.” Stepping back, she pulled me toward the bed. “Now let’s find something for you to wear. We’ll put you in a wig and totally change your makeup so no one recognizes you. You’ll have to ditch the ring, though. That’s a dead giveaway you’re someone important.”

Removing my ring would reveal my tattoo. And if Luc saw that, he’d know exactly who I was, regardless of how well Felicity’s disguise masked my identity. I was absolutely sure he’d flip his shit when he realized I’d stepped foot off this estate where he claimed I was safe, but I no longer cared how he reacted.

I cared about me. And the truth. And not being a fool any longer.

Even if something in the back of my head whispered this was not going to end well.