Luca POV
I didn’t answer her.
“Where do you live?”
She was quiet for a few seconds, then shook her head.
“Don’t know.”
”You can’t even remember your address?”
”Mm.” She rubbed against my collar.
“I’m drunk. Can’t think straight.”
I held her eyes for two seconds, then caught her chin and lifted her face.
“Are you really drunk, or pretending?”
Five years ago, it was with this face that she talked me into believing anything.
She blinked.
“Luc, what did you say? I don’t understand.”
Luc.
Not Mr. Hawthorne.
Before I could answer, she tipped her head up and kissed my jaw.
My body went still for an instant.
“What are you shy for,” she said, a hazy smile in her eyes.
“It’s not as if we haven’t kissed. Is there anywhere on you I haven’t kissed?”
She put out a finger and poked my throat.
“Here.” Then lower, poked my collarbone.
“Here.” Her finger started to slide further down, and I caught it.
“That’s enough.”
”Not enough.” She muttered.
“There’s still a lot I haven’t counted.”
I held her face and pushed her back a little.
Looking into those innocent eyes, I laughed suddenly.
“Sienna, do you think I really have no way of handling you?”
She burrowed into me as though she hadn’t heard.
“Take me home.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
She kept going, her face buried against my chest.
“Is your place warm? I’m cold.”
”Luc, is your house big?”
She blinked, smiling innocently.
“I’d like a tour.”
Her perfume rose again, mixed with alcohol, her warm breath landing on my throat.
I raised a hand to push her away.
She suddenly lifted her face, and her lips grazed my jaw.
“Luc… your face is red.”
This woman, five years ago or five years later, still had the ability to unsettle me.
I said to the driver, “Change of route. My house.”
The driver acknowledged, and the car turned around.
She curled against me, her mouth curving, and closed her eyes again.
That face was inches away, her lashes trembling faintly.
I looked away, out the window.
The car stopped in the underground garage. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
I took her into the elevator, half holding, half supporting, and all the way up she opened her eyes and looked around.
“Where is this?”
”My house.”
She raised a brow.
“Weren’t you saying it was inconvenient?”
I ignored her.
The elevator doors opened and Lucy, the housekeeper, came forward.
Seeing the person in my arms, she froze.
“Mr. Hawthorne, this–”
”She’s drunk.” I set her down on the sofa.
“Get a guest room ready. She’s staying here tonight.”
”Of course, of course.” Lucy turned and went upstairs.
Sienna curled into the sofa, eyes closed, as if asleep.
I stood beside her and watched for a while, then bent and pulled the slipped blanket back over her.
I was straightening when her eyes opened.
“Luc,” she said softly.
“Aren’t you going to stay with me?”
My movement stopped.
She reached up, hooked a hand around my neck and pulled me down.
“I’m scared on my own.”
A few seconds later I peeled her hand away.
“The housekeeper will look after you.”
I turned and started upstairs.
Behind me her voice came, laced with laughter and provocation.
“Luca, you’re walking awfully fast. Afraid you won’t be able to hold yourself back?”
My steps faltered, but I didn’t stop.
Sienna POV
Yesterday’s plan to seduce Luca had failed again, but I was breaking through his defenses bit by bit.
As long as there was progress, it wasn’t a bad thing.
The next day I came to the company and worked as usual.
Luca sat behind his desk, his pen moving across paper.
I set his coffee at his hand.
I went to the coffee table, took a small scented candle from my coat pocket and lit it.
Cedar and citrus spread slowly through the air.
A perfumer had blended the scent specially for him; I had first smelled it in his Malta villa five years ago.
His study, his bedroom, his car–always this one scent.
It had taken me considerable effort to reproduce it.
Luca’s page-turning stopped.
He looked at the candle, rubbed his temple and went back to turning pages.
The pen started again, but faster than before.
My hands came from behind and took the place of his fingers at his temples.
He didn’t shy away.
I used the opening to lean forward and study him from behind.
His features had deepened since five years ago: the brow bone, the jawline, the faint pulse beneath the small patch of skin exposed where his collar had come open.
Five years ago I had touched that face countless times.
“What are you looking at?”
He spoke suddenly, his voice low and rough.
My fingers didn’t stop.
I brushed over his brow bone, lowered my head until my lips were at his ear, and laughed softly.
“Looking at you, Luca. You’re even better looking than you used to be. What if I told you I’m hooked on you again?”
Luca finally raised his eyes.
He didn’t turn around; he met my gaze through the reflection in the glass window in front of him, where I was bent slightly forward, a strand of hair sliding down from behind my ear across his shoulder.
His eyes crossed with mine in the glass, wordless.
“I’m getting married.”
My fingers pressed once at his temple, then slowly released.
“I know,” I said.
“That’s why I’m talking about an affair.”
In the reflection I tilted my head and gave him an artless smile.
“For someone like you, marriage is a family alliance. Your body is a separate matter.”
Luca finally turned his head and looked at me.
“So?”
”So,” I met his eyes and didn’t back down, “I don’t mind being the woman you keep outside.
I don’t want a title, I won’t fight for anything, I don’t even need you to bother pleasing me.”
His fingers rested on the edge of the desk and paused, very slightly.
My fingers travelled from his temple down to the taut nape of his neck.
“I just want your body.” I breathed warm air into his ear and kept my voice low.
“Especially that night five years ago. It shows up in my dreams often.”
I stared at the tendon standing out slightly in his neck, with one thing on my mind: I needed him to lose control.
The sooner, the better.
Someone knocked on the office door.
Theo pushed it open.
“Mr. Hawthorne, the Morettis just asked to–”
The words cut off.
Theo saw my hands still resting on Luca’s shoulders, the two of us standing far too close.
His eyes jumped between us, and professionalism made him look away at once, but his face had already given him away.
I straightened as if nothing were wrong and smoothed my hair back.
Before I turned away, I bent to Luca’s ear and left a whisper only he could hear.
“Think about it, Luca. Let me be your mistress.”