Luc wouldn’t look at me.

After carrying me upstairs, he’d set me on the table in the small kitchen area of the suite and gone right to work opening the first aid kit the hotel had left. A slight burn sizzled across my ribs where that piece of metal had cut me, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as he thought. I wasn’t going to tell him that, though. I liked the way he took care of me. I liked his hands on me. I wanted his hands everywhere, and I was willing to do anything I had to do to get them there.

Holding his tie against my side, I used my other hand to unhook the top button of my blouse. I didn’t even get the second one undone before Luc lifted his head and pinned me with narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking my shirt off so you can bandage my side. Here, help me.” I sat upright and pushed my chest out just a touch. “I can’t get these buttons free.”

“You’re not taking your shirt off.” He slapped a piece of gauze and a roll of tape on the table beside my hip and reached for his ruined tie at my side. With his other hand, he lifted the hem of my shirt and pushed it into my hands. “Hold this up right here. No higher.”

He tugged the bloody tie away and went to work cleaning the cut with an alcohol pad. I hissed in a breath at the sting, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t react.

I knew he wanted me. I could see it in the bulge in his slacks. I could feel it in the heat practically rolling off him in waves. And I heard it in his strained voice every time he spoke to me. He was fighting this thing between us like a drowning man fights for a breath, and I wasn’t sure why. I’d pretty much given him the green light in the car. I’d made it clear I’d remembered that he’d been at that masquerade and that I knew he’d kissed me. At this point, I was a sure thing, and he knew that. He should want me naked, dammit.

He dropped the alcohol pad on the table and fanned his hand over my ribs, drying the skin. I ached for him to blow his hot breath across my flesh. Ached for him to kiss me the way he had at that party. But he was holding back because…

It hit me all at once. He was holding back because he felt guilty about what had happened to me today.

My frustration waned. “Thank you for rescuing me today.”

His jaw tightened as he ripped a bandage open. “You wouldn’t have needed rescuing if it weren’t for me.”

There it was.

“Maybe.” I waited until he pressed the bandage against my skin “Maybe not. But we both know that wasn’t the first time you’ve rescued me.”

His fingers stilled against my skin. Though he still didn’t look at me, I could hear his breaths growing faster.

Gotcha.

Confidence swelled inside me, making my heart beat faster. “Just how ticked was Gio when he realized you not only swept me out of that party but whisked me out of the country as well?”

Very slowly, his head lifted, but instead of the surprise or even relief I’d hoped to see in his eyes, I saw wariness. And a very clear warning to back off. “What do you think you’re doing, Natalie?”

His voice was low, his expression detached, but I refused to let either intimidate me. “Talking.”

“About things you shouldn’t be talking about.”

“I disagree.”

His eyes flashed just before he tore his gaze from mine, slapped another bandage over my wound—this time not nearly as gently—and gathered the wrapper and tabs and wadded them in his big hands.

A sliver of panic worked its way through my ribs because that wasn’t the reaction I’d hoped for. I’d hoped that by telling him I knew he’d brought me to Italy to protect me, we could stop dancing around the wild attraction making us both insane.

“It’s no different from what you did today,” I said in a voice that was slightly higher than I wanted it to be. “I liked what you did today.”

He crossed to the wastebasket, never once glancing at me.

“I liked what you did back in New York.”

He moved to the other side of the table—away from me—reached across the surface, and snapped the first aid kit closed.

Dammit, why wouldn’t he look at me? I swiveled toward him. “I liked even more the way you kissed me in that hallway. I liked it so much, I want you to do it again right now.”

He froze. The only part of him that moved was his chest, rising and falling with his shallow breaths.

My heart raced in the silence, and doubt crept in, heating my face and setting off a vibration of nerves in my belly.

I wasn’t usually the aggressor. In fact, I’d never been the aggressor in any relationship. All the guys I’d dated back in Idaho had sought me out, and the ones I’d liked who hadn’t approached me, I’d let go. But with Luc it was different. I felt different. I was willing to put myself out there because I wanted this. I wanted him. And I knew he wanted me just as much.

“Luc,” I whispered, desperate for him to move, to say something, to look at me. “Why won’t yo—”

“You need to pack your bags.”

“Pack?” Shock rippled through me, not from his words but from the cold, detached tone of his voice. I watched with confusion as he grabbed the first aid kit from the table and set it on the counter in the small kitchen, still never looking my way. “For what?”

“You’re going back to Idaho tonight. First flight I can get you on.”

Disbelief rushed through me, but just as quickly it was followed by a surge of rebellion because I knew exactly what he was doing. I scrambled off the table, ignoring the pull in my side, and faced him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are.” He pinned me with menacing eyes. “You’re going home where you belong.”

Where I belong… To Idaho. Away from Covet. Where Gio couldn’t reach me. Where Luc thought I’d be safe.

My temper shot straight up. I knew if he wanted me to leave, I couldn’t stop him from making me go. But if I went, I was doing it on my terms, not his.

“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin. “Send me back. But I won’t stay there.”

“Yes, you will.” His eyes turned wild, and his features darkened as he rounded the table, stopping mere inches away from me. “You’ll go back to Idaho, and you’ll stay there where you can’t cause any more fucking trouble.”

“And who’s going to make me?” I stood my ground, lifting my chin even higher. “You? From here? From New York? We both know you can’t do that.”

“Porca troia…”

My breath caught as his whole body shook with frenzied madness and he lifted his hands and clenched them into fists, his face twisting with exasperation. But he didn’t lunge for me. He never once made a move to use those fists on me. And when I realized he never would, I exhaled, shoving aside any panic I’d initially felt. He could rant and rave and threaten all he wanted, but I knew he’d never hurt me.

His teeth clenched down hard, and his fists shook in front of him as if he wanted to shake some sense into me. “I swear to all that’s holy, Natalie, if you don’t listen to me right now I’ll…”

He didn’t finish his threat. Instead, he moved back several steps, turned away from me, and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

My heart contracted in the silence between us, filling my chest with warmth, with strength, with vitality and purpose.

Yes, with purpose. Because I suddenly realized what he’d done. Not just today. Not just at that party on Long Island, but every day since we’d met. Each decision he’d made that had anything to do with me—including not giving me that internship at Covet and belittling me in his office—had been done to protect me. To keep me away from whatever was tormenting him now.

Was it Gio? Was it that right-wing zealot who’d attacked me? Was it something else? I wasn’t sure. This man had secrets. More than one. And I knew after what happened today, I should be wary of those secrets, but…I wasn’t. I’d seen the real him, and all I wanted to do now was prove to him that whatever he feared, it wouldn’t change anything between us.

“You’ll what?” I asked softly. “Throw me out? I know you won’t do that. You know you won’t do that.” I stepped toward him, desperate to touch him. “Why are you fighting what’s happening between us? We both know you want me.”

His broad shoulders rose and fell with his shallow breaths. He was a mass of coiled strength, clashing desires, and sensual danger, but it didn’t intimidate me. It excited me. Electrified me. Awakened every inch of my body in a way I’d never known I could be roused. Nerves tightened in my belly as I waited for him to turn and lift his gaze to mine. And when he did, when I saw the stark hunger lurking in those stormy, conflicted eyes, I knew this was a battle worth fighting.

“I want you just as much,” I whispered.

He stared at me with those turbulent, unique gray eyes. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. And I didn’t push because I knew he was struggling with himself, caught between what he wanted versus what he thought was best for me. But as the silence lengthened, I sensed something shift in him. Something I couldn’t define. Something that stole the light and hunger from his eyes and left them void of all emotion.

“You don’t want me,” he whispered in a lifeless voice, one I’d never heard from him. “You want a taste of the forbidden. Of what you think you saw at that party in New York. But what’s in me is not the same. It’s worse. It’s a darkness you can’t even imagine. And if you stay, it will devour you too.”

My heart thumped hard against my ribs as I tried to make sense of what he’d just said. I hadn’t been afraid once since I’d been with him, but I couldn’t deny the alarm sounding in my head as I looked into his haunted eyes. Because that was what they were, I realized. Haunted. By shadows and memories that sent icy fingers of dread down my spine. Whatever he was remembering, whatever he struggled with was so terrifying, it had just sucked the life out of his eyes right in front of me, leaving behind only a ghost of the man I’d spent the last few days with.

Could I survive that kind of darkness? I swallowed hard, trying to think.

He was right. What drew me to him wasn’t just his animal magnetism or his insanely good looks or even his overwhelming, protective nature. I was drawn to the very thing he seemed desperate to keep from me. To the danger swirling around him. To the shadows lurking in his eyes. To that forbidden darkness buried inside that was at the root of his need for dominance and control and even his hunger for me.

My mouth grew dry, and my hands trembled at my sides. I twisted my fingers together in front of me, unsure what to say. Even more confused as to what I should do. My mind spun for something solid to grab on to—some thought or belief that would bring everything into focus. The only thing that made any kind of sense was the knowledge that no one should have to face that kind of darkness alone.

“I-I’m not going,” I said again, but my voice wavered. I heard it. He heard it too.

The air whooshed from his mouth, and in one quick movement, all the fight seemed to seep right out of him, dropping his shoulders, his expression, pulling on his limbs with a strangled desperation I heard echo in his voice when he whispered, “Natalie, please.”

Panic hit me full force, stealing my breath and shooting my adrenaline sky-high. I stumbled back a step and tried to stop the sudden shaking in my limbs but couldn’t.

No, I hadn’t once been afraid with Luc, but I was suddenly scared now. Terrified, in fact, because this man—this dominant, aggressive, controlling man—wasn’t yelling at me to go as he had before. He wasn’t ordering me to leave as I knew he wanted to do. He was begging me to run as far and fast as I could.

My pulse was a whir in my ears as I backed farther away, moving shakily toward my bedroom door. I needed space. I needed air. I needed a place to think. “I-I have to get ready.”

He didn’t follow me. He didn’t reach for me. But he did watch me. “I’ll call Vincenzo and tell him to bring the car around.”

His meaning hit me like a slap to the face. “No,” I said quickly, my hand already on the doorknob of my room. “I meant for the party. It…it’s in an hour.

“Party?” Confusion clouded his features. I saw it from the corner of my vision but couldn’t bring myself to look at him full on in case that haunted look still lingered in his eyes. “You’re not going to any fashion party tonight.”

“Yes, I am.” I tried to sound confident, but my strength was waning. He’d rattled me. More than I liked. More than I wanted him to see. “People are expecting us.” You. People are expecting you. “And…” My brain felt like jelly. I couldn’t make a decision right now. I needed a chance to breathe. To think. To find control. “And it’s too late to go to the airport tonight anyway. I’ll never get a flight this late.”

“But you are going home, right?”

I heard the hope in his voice. And the fear. And as my heart pounded a bruising rhythm against my ribs, I couldn’t stop my gaze from lifting to his. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

The words were the truth. I didn’t know if I should stay. I didn’t know if I should leave. I didn’t know anything right now, and that worried me.

“You have to go, Natalie.” His voice was soft—too soft. And it tugged on my heart in a way I didn’t expect, leaving a biting ache in its wake. “Please be smart about this.”

Be smart about him? Be smart about whatever he was hiding from me? Or be smart about something else? I had no idea what he meant. All I knew was that something inside me was suddenly terrified of finding the answer to all three questions.

I twisted the knob. “I-I’ll meet you out here in an hour.”

He didn’t respond. But as I closed the door at my back and leaned against the hard wood, I knew he was still staring after me.

---

I spent the next twenty minutes searching the web with my phone for anything I could find about the Salvatici family. Most of the sites I pulled up were written in Italian, and I couldn’t read them. I knew I could open a translation tab and try to plug in the pages, but I didn’t have time. I had to get ready for the stupid party.

I didn’t really want to go to a party. I wasn’t in the mood to stand on the sidelines and watch Luc schmooze with the rich and famous, but I needed to get out of this hotel. I needed to do something normal to rid my mind and body of all this stress and worry and blistering sexual tension. Even if that “normal” wasn’t anything I’d do at home.

Thankfully, the cut on my side wasn’t as bad as it had first seemed, and the shower didn’t irritate it too much. Of course, as I stood under the hot spray of the shower, thinking back through everything Luc had ever said to me, I was clearly not focused on the pain.

I replayed his words again and again, searching for answers, searching for proof of that darkness he claimed would destroy me. I listened to the way he’d said those words. I even closed my eyes and envisioned his face when he’d said them, desperate for any hidden meaning or clues, but I found nothing. No confirmation one way or the other that told me he was the threat he wanted me to believe he was.

I knew there was darkness in him. I could feel it lingering around him now, even through the walls separating us. But it didn’t frighten me. He didn’t frighten me. The only thing that frightened me was the tight hold that so-called darkness had on him.

I shaved my legs with shaky fingers, then ran the soap over my whole body, careful around my cut. My hands passed over my hips, and a memory flashed in my mind. The weight of Luc’s hand against me there as he held me still in the car and pressed his tie to my wound. The width of his palm radiating heat through my slacks and into my skin. The strong, soft touch of his fingertips gently flexing against the muscle that ran around to my backside as if he wanted to dig in and pull me close.

Heat gathered in my belly, sending a warm flush all across my skin. My stomach tightened as I remembered the way he’d swept me up into his arms and carried me into the hotel, even after telling me he was no hero. I trembled as I replayed that moment in my head—the gathered strength in his muscles wrapped around me like a blanket, making me feel feminine and small and utterly protected; the scent of his skin, a mixture of jasmine and rum and absolute heaven that left me lightheaded; and that roaring, rushing need that had swallowed me whole and made me ache to show him just how thankful I was for everything he’d done for me.

My nipples tightened under the shower spray, and my sex answered with a rush of wetness that made my whole body shake. Reflexively, I swept my hand between my legs, brushing the wetness against my clit. Electrical arcs echoed from the tight bundle of nerves, dragging my eyes closed, pushing a moan up my throat. I leaned my head against the wall and did it again, picturing Luc’s fingers moving against me. Imagining his mouth kissing a path of heat down my belly. Envisioning his body rocking into mine as he slid deep inside me.

My eyes fluttered open, and I breathed hard against the arousal I knew I could sate with several flicks of my wrist. A meaningless release might feel good for a moment, but it wouldn’t satisfy me for long. I didn’t want my hand between my legs. I wanted Luc’s there. I wanted his hand and his body and his mouth and his mind. And, yes, I even wanted his darkness because it was part of him.

My pulse picked up speed as I turned off the shower and wrapped a bath sheet around my shaky body. I still didn’t know if I should leave as Luc wanted me to do or if I should stay. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t keep fighting this raging desire. I wanted him. I wanted him regardless of everything he’d said and the fear I’d seen lurking in his eyes. I knew him even if he didn’t think I did. I knew the real him that he hid from the world. And I couldn’t see how wanting that man could ever be bad.

Nerves coiled in my belly. Admitting I wanted him was a start. But where did I go from there? I knew he wanted me just as badly, but I couldn’t force him to take me. I could give up the fight if I was certain he would never act on his desires. What I couldn’t do was walk away if there was a chance for something more.

My stomach twisted, and those nerves hummed inside me as I pulled the wet bandages from my ribs and studied the wound. It was still red and slightly raised but no longer bleeding, and I knew I didn’t need to cover it.

Hanging my towel on the rack, I let the wound air dry as I applied my makeup and fixed my hair. I took extra care with my appearance, making sure my curls fell seductively down my back and that my eyes were sultry and smoky in that way that drove men wild. It was probably childish, but I wanted to awe him with my beauty tonight. And if even that didn’t do the trick, then I wanted him to picture me every night after this one, knowing just what he’d let slip through his fingers.

After brushing my teeth and sliding on one last layer of lipstick, I unzipped the garment bag Bianca had sent over to the hotel. The dress inside was more than I could have hoped for, and a smile tugged at my lips as I pulled it on, careful near my cut so I didn’t irritate the skin.

It was a simple black design that was both classy and elegant. A heart-shaped neckline plunged at my breasts but kept plenty covered. The off-the-shoulder sleeves dipped only to my shoulder blades but made my skin look like porcelain. The mermaid cut hugged my curves in all the right places, accentuating, as Bianca had said, all my assets. Near my knees, the dress flared out again, sweeping behind me in a short black flower applique train over nude fabric that made me look even taller.

Standing in the sensible three-inch black heels I’d brought with me, I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. There was no way Luc could think this dress looked slutty. It was regal and sophisticated and made me look like a million bucks. My stomach tightened with a new wave of fear. I just hoped he liked it enough to let go of everything that was holding him back.

Enough stalling.

Drawing in one last breath, I grabbed the small black clutch Bianca had added to the bag, tossed in my lipstick and compact, and turned for the door.

Luc stood at the windows in the living room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, his tux jacket swept back to reveal his crisp dress shirt and strong, muscular torso as he stared out at the twinkling view of the city and the illuminated dome of St. Peter’s Basilica. My stomach pitched all over again as I took in the breadth of his shoulders, his thick dark hair, and that strong, chiseled profile I could see even with my eyes closed.

He hadn’t seen me yet. His gaze was focused on something in the distance. But even without his eyes on mine, I could feel his worry. I could also feel his deep, desperate yearning and the same damn heat I’d felt the last three days, which was currently resurging through my body to tighten my nipples and send electrical pulses straight into my sex.

“I think we’re going to match tonight,” I said quietly.

Luc’s head swiveled my way, and the moment he saw me, his eyes widened. “Santo Dio.”

A thrill whipped through me, enhancing those electrical pulses. “I don’t have a clue what you just said, but something tells me I can thank Bianca for it.”

He blinked, his gaze slowly lifting from my dress to my face. “Bianca?”

“She sent this over after our meeting this morning.” I lifted my hands and twirled a slow circle so he could see the rest of me. “What do you think?”

His eyes raked my body like a heated caress, and I felt it everywhere. When I faced him again, he whispered, “Penso che tu sei più bella di un angelo.”

My smile widened at both his sexy Italian and the one word I did understand—angel. And the awe I heard in his voice shoved aside every last doubt about what I planned to do next. “I already texted Vincenzo and told him to meet us downstairs. Shall we go?”

He drew in a deep breath, and his shoulders tensed. For a heartbeat, I thought he was going to say no, then he nodded and held out his hand toward the elevator, indicating for me to move in front of him.

My heart threatened to burst from my chest as I walked through the suite and pressed the elevator call button. Luc stopped behind me as we waited for the car, and even though I couldn’t see him, I knew his eyes were on me. I could all but feel his stormy gaze skimming down my hair, running the length of my spine, and grazing the curve of my backside. My breaths picked up speed, and my skin grew hot and tight with anticipation.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped into the car, turning to face him. He moved in next to me and raked his fingers through his hair in what I knew was a nervous move. My stomach twisted tighter, and heat prickled my skin everywhere as the doors slid closed, locking us into the tight space together. Seconds later, the elevator hummed, and we began to move.

“Natalie.” Luc sucked in another breath. “About earlier, I know you don’t wa—”

I hit the Stop button on the panel before I could chicken out. The car jolted to a halt.

Worry filled Luc’s eyes as he shifted toward me. “What’s wrong? Did you forget something?”

“Yes.” It was now or never. “I forgot this.”

I moved into him, slid my hand around his nape, and lifted to my toes. His eyes widened, but I didn’t let it deter me. I pressed my lips to his exactly as I’d wanted to do since I awoke after that party and found him waiting outside my door.