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He burst out laughing again.
“Go to hell,” she whispered, her petite frame radiating fury. Most of it self-directed, he knew, for Sophia hated betraying any emotion that made her weak.
He caught her wrist and pulled her inside the large, and thankfully empty, lounge behind them. Backing her into the wall, he pulled her arms above her.
The disdain in her eyes, the arrogant jut of her chin... It was like pouring petrol over a spark. Jerked at every primal instinct he had carefully banished from his life. Her breasts heaved as she fought him, as if they too fought against being confined.
“You thought you would propose marriage and walk away? You did not think I would find it entertaining?”
“You’re a remorseless bastard.” It was the first time she’d hinted at their past.
Regret was a faint pang in Luca’s chest. Only faint.
Did he regret that he had hurt her ten years ago? Si.
So much that if given the chance he wouldn’t do it again? Non.
He was far too selfish to willingly deny himself the true joy he’d found with her in those few weeks. “And you love playing the uptight shrew far too much.”
Outrage, and most improbably, hurt, transformed her muddy brown eyes into a thousand hues of golds and bronzes.
Her stubborn, too-prominent nose flared. Incongruously wide mouth in a small face flushed a deep pink. The hourglass figure swathed in the most horrific black dress rubbed against him, bringing him to painful arousal.
In front of his eyes, she became something else.
She became the Sophia he’d known once and hadn’t been able to resist, the Sophia he’d kissed with wonder, the Sophia she’d been before he had beat all the softness out of her.
She grunted and gave herself away, seconds before she raised her knee to his groin.
“How would this marriage of ours...prosper and proliferate if you turn me into a castrato, Sophia?”
Dancing his lower body away from her kick, he used the momentum to slam her harder into his hip. Her soft belly pressed and flushed into the lines of his body, his hip bone digging into it, as if it meant to make a groove for itself against her.
A softer gasp escaped her this time, throaty and wrenched away from the part of her she hid so well. So well that he had often wondered if he had known her so intimately once. That short huff for breath stroked Luca’s nerves. Like strings of a violin...
Thick, wavy locks of hair fell from the ugly knot at the back of her head, touching the strong planes of her face with softness. The floral scent of her shampoo, something so incongruous with the woman she was, or pretended to be, fluttered under his nose. Luca pressed his nose into the thick, wavy mass. Kneaded the tense planes of her upper back as if he could calm himself by calming her.
He had never forgotten his amazement at the fire that had flared between them, how easily his plan had gone utterly wrong ten years ago. How, even for his jaded palate, Sophia had proved to be too much of a temptation.
Dio, suggesting marriage to him, of all men... Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Why was she tempting the devil in him?
He was tempted. What man wouldn’t want to muss up those ugly dresses and that shrewish facade and want to find the soft woman beneath? What man wouldn’t want a claim on that kind of loyalty, on that steely core of her?
He set her away from him, none too gently. Lust riding him hard, he drew one rattling breath after another.
He controlled the pursuit of pleasure and the pleasure itself. Without shame or scruples, he used his charm, his looks, to draw women to him, amused himself for a time and then walked away.
He’d carefully built his life to be that and nothing more. He’d trampled her innocence even when he’d intended to do the right thing once. But in the end, he’d left. He would walk away again.
After having a small taste. She really expected it of him—to behave abominably, to torture her with his lascivious words and deeds. He couldn’t disappoint her.
His humor restored, he eased his grip on her. Instantly she shoved at him. He didn’t budge. “I can think of an infinitely more pleasurable and mature way to vent your frustration.”
“It’s hard to be mature when you laugh in my face like this.”
“Your dignity is that fragile? The Sophia I keep hearing about in boardrooms and business mergers is apparently nothing short of Goddess Diana.”
He curved his mouth into his trademark smile. Her glare didn’t dim one bit. If anything, she stiffened even more.
Dio, when was the last time he had had such fun? And they hadn’t even shed their clothes yet. “I was right, it is I that gets under your skin.”
Her eyelids fell slowly. A second to restore her quaking defenses. Right on cue, she looked up, her fiery glare renewed. “I forgot that it’s all a big joke to you.”
“Being a debauched playboy who cares for nothing is hard work.”
“I was stupid to think we could have a mature conversation. All you—”
“Then persuade me.”
“What?”
Surprise in her gaze filled him with a strange satisfaction. Shocking, needling, generally startling Sophia out of that hard shell could become addictive. “Persuade me. Indulge me. Make me an irresistible offer.”
* * *
Make herself irresistible to the most beautiful man on the face of the planet? A man who held nothing sacred?
“I have a better chance of finding treasure in my backyard,” she said softly. Wistfulness snuck into her voice and she cringed.
“Kiss me, then.”
“What?” She rubbed her temples, dismayed at how he reduced her to a mumbling idiot.
“Put your lips on mine and pucker them up. Your hands can go on my shoulders or my hips or if you’re feeling bold, you can grab my ass—”
“What? Why?” Years of oratory at debate club evaporated, her brain only offering whats and whys.
“That should be the first step for a couple considering marriage, si? I could never marry a woman who didn’t know how to kiss.”
Don’t. Look. At. His. Mouth. “It’s obvious you’re only torturing me and will never really consider it and you...” She looked and the contoured lushness of it made her lick her own lips, which made him grin and prompted her to raise her gaze. “Your lover is lying in your bed and you’re—”
“If you’d been paying attention and not mooning over me—” Sophia fisted her hands, just fighting the urge to wipe that satisfied smile off his face, for he was right, damned devil “—then you would know that Mariana and I are over.”
“You just said you wore her out!” Her brow cleared. “You said that just to rile me up, didn’t you? There was hardly any time between when you left and I found you for you to...to—” She couldn’t believe what her logic led her to say. If only she could stop blushing! “—wear her out.”
“I actually don’t need that much time to get my lover off—”
“Where is she?” Sophia cut him off.
“She’s a lightweight and I kept plying her with drinks. Her husband’s divorcing her, which is what she wanted, but she’s a little emotional about it. I couldn’t just...throw her out of the party when she was in such a state.”
“No, of course, not. They all adore you even when you’re done with them.”
* * *
Except her, Luca thought with something akin to a pang in his chest.
“You’re free to adore me, too, cara. No one will have to know.”
She snorted. That inelegant movement of that sharp, stubborn nose made him chuckle. “God, really, you don’t need any more admirers, secret or otherwise. And I’m not kissing you.”
Pink and wide, her mouth was like a long bow, the only feature in her face that was soft and vulnerable. A pillow of lushness. It betrayed that tough-as-nails, no-nonsense persona of hers.
He desperately wanted to feel it under his own, wanted to taste all that pent-up passion. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. She was the one who’d cornered him, the one throwing outrageous ideas at him, the one looking all delectably confined and uptight in that dress. “How do you expect me to believe you’re not playing a joke on me with this proposal? Maybe this is revenge? Maybe you intend to make me fall in love with you, and then leave me at the altar pining for you? Maybe...”
Brown eyes glittering, wide mouth mobile, she laughed. It was a full-throttled laugh, deep and husky. The kind that came all the way from your stomach, burned through your lungs, leaving you a little dizzy. Her body shook all over.
The sound stole into Luca, filling every hungry crevice inside him. It was one that could cut through the darkest space, filling it with light. “What is so funny?”
“You, falling in love. With me.”
He said it softly. “The whole world assumes Sophia Rossi is tough, brave, the conqueror of every challenge. Decimator of men. Only I know what a coward you are.”
It fell in the space between them like a weapon, and he waited, breath balling up in his lungs. Anger and apprehension vied in her face until she covered the distance between them. He didn’t know if she was going to slap him or kiss him or castrate him. No woman could create that mystery except Sophia. No woman had ever filled his veins with this heady anticipation.
Fingers on the lapels of his shirt, she jerked him close. “No one calls me a coward, you manipulative bastard.”
Throaty and tart, growly and yet with a deep vein of need pulsing beneath, it was Sophia to the end. Brave Sophia accepting facts and meeting them head-on. Dutiful Sophia kissing the man she hated just to hear him out.
Short and curvy, she barely came up to his chest. Hands on his shoulders, she pulled herself up, as if to elongate herself. Like a vine clinging to a cement wall.
That pressed every inch of her to him. Lush breasts, followed by such a thin waist that he wondered how it held up those glorious curves, then flaring into rounded hips, hips a man would anchor himself on while he thrust inside her. Shapely thighs that would clutch a man tight as he jerked in pleasure within her velvet heat.
Again and again, until he forgot what or who he was.
Such heat rolled over his skin that Luca’s fingers dug into her soft flesh.
With a protesting moan, she stilled her mouth on his. The tips of their noses collided and a soft sigh left her. Hot breath kissed his hungry lips. Then she moved that mouth again. Testing and trying. This way and that. Halting thoughtfully and then hurrying along urgently when she liked the fit.
Brown eyes met his. And the world stilled. Time and space narrowed to this minute, this space around them. Never breaking his gaze, she slanted her head and dragged a kiss from one corner of his mouth to the other.
She took control of the kiss like she did everything else.
And Luca let her take over. Let the scent and taste of her fill every hungry crevice. Let her imprint herself on him.
Flames of fire raced along his veins when she licked the seam of his lips and probed for entry. Desperate, Luca opened his mouth under hers. The throaty sound of her gasp shivered down his spine. Never had he been waiting like this for pleasure. Never had he been the recipient.
Suppressing every instinct to take over the reins of the kiss—he’d never waited to be pleasured—he let her seduce him. She obliged, stroking the inside of his mouth with bold flicks, teasing and incinerating. Took his mouth with a carnality that left him shaking to the very marrow.
Christo, he’d never been so aroused by just a kiss.
* * *
The sound of footsteps behind them brought Sophia back to earth with a thud.
Her mouth stung with the taste of Luca, her body thrumming with unsatisfied desire. The crisp hair on his wrists teased her palms.
But she felt anything but exultant. She wanted to cry. She wanted to ask him to take her to his bedroom, turn off the lights and—no, not his bedroom. Not the place where he’d probably made love to a horde of lovers, each more stunning and thin and wispier than the next. Maybe they could slip away into that veranda, hide under the moonlight and he could kiss her a little more.
She could pretend that he’d never broken her heart and that he wanted her just as much as she did him.
Because when Luca kissed her, Sophia was always carried off to some faraway land. A land where she could be strong enough to be weak, where she could let someone care for her, where she didn’t worry about her family, where she was not mocked for who she was.
Where a man like Luca didn’t have to be induced into seducing a woman like her...
She hid her face in his chest. His heartbeat thundered against her cheek. He was warm and male, both exciting and comforting, something she hadn’t realized until this moment she missed.
Sophia couldn’t dredge up anger for that kiss. Toward him or herself.
His fingers wandered up and down her hips, questing and caressing. “I’d rather we kissed again, but I keep my word.” Deep and hoarse, his voice pinged over her heated skin. “So tell me, why do you wish to...”
Suddenly, a hand on her shoulder pulled her from his arms, turned her around.
“Tina, non!” she heard Luca shout dimly.
Sophia didn’t see it coming. Someone slapped her. Hard.
Her head went back, pain radiating up her jaw and through her ear. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked to clear them away. Pulling in a shuddering breath, she looked up.
Valentina—Luca’s sister and Kairos’s wife, stood before her, her lithe, willowy body shaking with rage. Her entire face was mobile with emotion, turning her into a volatile beauty. “You...you tart!”
Sophia raised a brow, refusing to show her dismay. “Tart, really?”
Her composure seemed to only rile the younger woman more. “You’re determined to go through all the men in my family, aren’t you? First Kairos, and now Luca? And to think I felt sorry for you when Leandro broke your engagement.”
“Basta, Tina!” Luca again. His arm around Sophia’s shoulders, he was a wall of lean strength against her. A dark scowl framed his features, his fingers rubbing against her arm in unconscious comfort.
Against every rational warning, Sophia felt her body leaning into his.
“You know the rumors about Kairos and her?” Tina screeched, her eyes filling with tears.
“If there’s truth to them, confront your husband, Tina.”
“Fall into her clutches, then. Maybe she will leave my husband alone.” Her black gaze raked over Sophia in a sneer. “Although I do not see the appeal.”
Valentina left with the same fierceness as she had come in. Like a storm, leaving a minefield of awkward silence behind.
Sophia untangled herself from Luca’s side and ran her fingers tentatively over her cheek. She thought she might be a little sick but it could be because of how much dessert she’d eaten in her anxiety tonight after the strict diet of the last two weeks.
