Luca cancelled his plans for the next day and sent Matteo out to do whatever needed to be done. As a woman in our world, you quickly learned not to ask too many questions because the answers were rarely good.
Luca got ready first and when I walked into the kitchen dressed and showered¸ he was staring into the fridge with a frown on his face. “Can you cook?”
I snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never made breakfast for yourself?”
“I usually grab something on my way to work, except on the days when Marianna is here and prepares something for me.” His eyes scanned my body. I’d chosen shorts, a tanktop and sandals since it was supposed to get really hot today. “I love your legs.”
I shook my head, then walked toward him to peek into the fridge. He didn’t step back and our arms brushed. This time I managed not to flinch. His touch wasn’t uncomfortable and when he didn’t startle me, I could actually imagine enjoying it. The fridge was well stocked. The problem was I’d never cooked either, but I wouldn’t mention that to Luca. I grabbed the egg carton and red peppers, and set them down on the kitchen counter. It couldn’t be that hard to prepare an omelet. I’d watched our cook a few times in the past.
Luca leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as I grabbed a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Won’t you help me? You can chop the peppers. You know how to handle a knife from what I hear.”
That made the corners of his lips twitch but he pulled a knife out of the block and stepped up to my side. The top of my head came only up to his chest with my flat sandals. I had to admit I kind of liked it. I handed him the pepper and pointed toward a wooden cutting board because I got the feeling Luca would have started chopping right on the expensive black granite countertops. We worked in silence but Luca kept sneaking glances at me. I put a bit of butter into the pan, then seasoned the beaten eggs. I wasn’t sure if I needed to add milk or cream, but decided against it. I poured the eggs into the sizzling pan.
Luca pointed his knife at the chopped peppers. “What happens to these?”
“Shit,” I whispered. The peppers should have gone in first.
“Have you ever cooked?”
I ignored him and chucked the peppers into the pan with the eggs. I’d turned the stove to maximum heat and soon the hint of a burning smell reached my nose. I quickly grabbed a spatula and tried to flip the omelet over, but it stuck to the pan. Luca was watching me with a smirk.
“Why don’t you make coffee for us?” I snapped as I scraped the half burnt eggs from the bottom of the pan.
When I thought the eggs were safe to eat, I spooned them onto two plates. They didn’t really look all that tasty. Luca’s brows rose when I put a plate down in front of him. He sank down on the barstool and I hopped onto the one beside him. I watched him as he picked up the fork and speared a piece of egg, then brought it to his lips. He swallowed, but it was obvious he wasn’t too impressed. I took a bite as well and almost spat it back out. The eggs were too dry and too salty. I dropped my fork and gulped down half of my coffee, not even caring that it was hot and black. “Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”
There was a hint of amusement in Luca’s face. The more relaxed expression made him look so much more approachable. “Maybe we should go out for breakfast.”
I glowered at my coffee. “How hard can it be to make an omelet?”
Luca let out what might have been a laugh. Then his eyes flitted back down to my bare legs, which were almost touching his. He put his hand down on my knee and I froze with my cup against my lips. He didn’t do anything, just lightly traced his thumb back and forth over my skin. “What would you like to do today?”
I pondered that, even if his hand was very distracting. I was alternating between wanting to shove it off my knee and ask him to keep caressing me. “The morning after our wedding night, you asked me if I knew how to fight, so maybe you can teach me how to use a knife or a gun, and maybe some self-defense.”
Surprise crossed Luca’s face. “Thinking about using them against me?”
I huffed. “As if I could ever beat you in a fair fight.”
“I don’t fight fair.”
Of course he didn’t. “So will you teach me?”
“I want to teach you a lot of things.” His fingers tightened on my knee.
“Luca,” I said quietly. “I’m serious. I know I have Romero and you but I want to be able to defend myself if something happens. You said it yourself, the Bratva won’t care that I’m a woman.”
That got him. He nodded. “Okay. We have a gym where we work out and do fight training. We could go there.”
I smiled, excited about getting out of the penthouse and doing something useful. “I’ll grab my workout clothes.” I hopped off the stool and ran upstairs.
***
Thirty minutes later we parked in front of a shabby building. I was bursting with excitement, and I was glad to have something to distract myself from what had happened yesterday. Luca and I got out of the car and he carried our bags as we headed through a rusty steel door. Security cameras were everywhere and a middle-aged man sat in a nook that held a table and chair as well as a TV. Two guns were in his holster. He straightened when he saw Luca, then he spotted me and his eyes grew wide.
“My wife,” Luca said with a hint of warning and the man’s gaze jerked away from me. Luca put a hand on the small of my back and guided me through another door that led into a huge hall. There were a boxing ring, all kinds of exercise machines, dummies for fight and knife training, and a corner with mats where a few man were sparring. I was the only woman.
Luca grimaced. “Our changing rooms are men only. We don’t usually have female visitors.”
“I know you’ll make sure nobody sees me naked.”
“You bet I will.”
I laughed, and a few faces turned our way, then more until everyone was staring. They quickly returned to what they’d been doing before when Luca led me toward a door on the side, but they kept throwing badly disguised glances my way. A few of the older men called out a greeting to Luca. He opened the door, then stopped. “Let me check if someone’s in there.” I nodded, then leaned against the wall as Luca disappeared inside the changing room. The moment he was gone, I could feel the full force of the men’s attention shifting my way. I tried not to let them see how nervous their scrutiny made me and almost breathed a sigh of relief when Luca came back out, followed by a few men who pretended they didn’t notice me. I wondered what Luca had told them.
“Come.” He held the door open for me and we walked into a low ceilinged room filled with humidity and the smell of too many hard-working male bodies. I scrunched my nose up. Luca laughed. “We’re not catering to sensitive female noses.”
I grabbed by bag from him and walked toward a locker. Luca followed and set his own bag down on the scratched wooden bench.
“Aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” I asked, hands on the hem of my shirt.
Luca raised one eyebrow at me before removing his holster and then pulling his own shirt over his head, revealing his muscled tanned torso. He dropped his shirt on the bench, then reached for his belt, still that challenging look in his eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I turned my back to him and slid my tanktop over my head. I reached behind me to open the clasp of my bra, but Luca’s hand was there and did it for me expertly. Bastard. Of course, he could open a bra with one finger. I grabbed my jogging bra and put it on, trying not to think about Luca who was undoubtedly watching every move. I stripped off my shorts and could have kicked myself for choosing a thong this morning. I pulled it down as well, and heard Luca sucking in his breath when I bent forward slightly. My cheeks blasted with heat, realizing what kind of view I’d just given him. I snatched one of the plain black panties I always wore when I worked out on the treadmill, then I put my jogging shorts on over them and turned back around to Luca. He’d put on black sweatpants and an ultra tight white shirt that showed his spectacular body. There was a bulge in his pants. All because of my butt?
“That’s what you’re wearing for self-defense lessons?”
I looked down at myself. “I don’t have anything else. This is what I’m wearing when I go jogging.” The shorts were tight and ended high up on my thighs, but I didn’t like too much fabric when I ran.
“You realize I’ll have to kick every guy’s ass who looks at you the wrong way, right? And looking like that my men will have a hard time not looking at you the wrong way.”
I shrugged. “It’s not my job to make them control themselves. Just because I’m wearing revealing clothes doesn’t mean I’m inviting them to look. If they can’t behave themselves, that’s their problem.”
Luca led me out of the changing room and toward the sparring mats. The men there immediately backed away and they were pointedly not looking at me. I followed Luca toward a display of knives. His eyes scanned them, then he chose one with a long smooth blade and handed it to me. He didn’t take one for himself.
He positioned himself across from me, looking utterly relaxed. He must have known everyone was watching us, but he acted as if he couldn’t care less. This wasn’t private. He had to put up a show for his men. “Attack me, but try not to cut yourself.”
“Won’t you get a knife too?”
Luca shook his head. “I don’t need one. I’ll have yours in a minute.”
I narrowed my eyes at his self-assured tone. He was probably right, but I didn’t like him saying it. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Try to land a hit. If you manage to cut me, you win. I want to see how you move.”
I took a breath and tried to forget the men watching me. I tightened my grip on the knife, then I dashed forward. Luca moved fast. He dodged my jab, grabbed my wrist and whirled me around until my back collided with his chest.
“You don’t have my knife yet,” I gasped out. His fingers around my wrist tightened a fraction, uncomfortably but not painfully. His lips brushed my ear. “I would have to hurt you to get it. I could break your wrist for example or just bruise it.” He released me and I stumbled forward.
“Again,” Luca said. I tried a few times, but didn’t even get anywhere close to cutting him. For my next try, I decided to stop playing fair. I advanced on him, then as he made a grab for me, I aimed a kick between his legs. The men cheered, but Luca’s hand caught my foot before it could make impact and before I knew what was happening I landed on my back with a heavy thud. My breath rushed out of me and the knife slipped out of my hand. I squeezed my eyes shut. Luca touched my stomach and my muscles constricted under his warm palm. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
I opened my eyes. “Yeah. Just trying to catch my breath.” Then I scanned the crowd. “Don’t you have a soldier who’s only five foot something and terrified of his own shadow who would be willing to fight me?”
“My men aren’t terrified of anything,” Luca said loudly. He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. He addressed his soldiers. “Anyone willing to fight my wife?”
Of course nobody stepped forward. They were probably worried Luca would skin them alive. Some of them shook their heads, chuckling.
The shadow of a grin crossed Luca’s face. “You’ll have to fight me.”
A few more attack attempts later, I was out of breath and annoyed by my inability to hurt Luca the tiniest bit but then a chance offered itself. He held me against his body and his upper arm was close to my face, so I turned and bit him. He was so startled he actually released me and I tried to jab him with the knife, but he gripped my wrist. “Did you bite me?” he asked as he stared at my teeth marks on his bicep.
“Not hard enough. There isn’t even blood,” I said.
Luca’s shoulders twitched once, then again. He was fighting laughter. Not the effect I’d intended when I bit him but I had to admit I loved the sound of his deep chuckle. “I think you’ve done enough damage for one day,” he said.
***
We grabbed something to eat on our way home, then settled on the rattan sofa on the roof terrace with a glass of wine.
“I’m surprised,” I said eventually. Luca and I sat close together, almost touching and his arm was thrown over the backrest behind me but so far he had held back. “I didn’t think you’d really try.”
“I told you I would. I keep my word.”
“I bet this is hard for you.” I gestured at the space between us.
“You have no idea. I want to kiss you really fucking bad.”
I hesitated. Kissing him had felt good. Luca set the glass down, then he moved a bit closer and touched my waist. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”
I parted my lips but nothing came out. Luca’s eyes darkened and he leaned toward me, capturing my mouth in a kiss and I lost myself in the sensation of his tongue and lips. Luca didn’t push it, never moved his hand from my waist but he’d begun rubbing my skin there lightly and his other hand massaged my scalp. How could I feel that all the way between my legs?
Eventually I lay back on the sofa, Luca propped up above me. I could feel myself getting wet but I didn’t have the time or necessary focus to feel embarrassed. Luca’s kisses kept me busy. The tingling in my center became difficult to ignore and I tried to alleviate the tension by pressing my legs together.
Luca drew back with a knowing expression. Heat rose into my cheeks.
“I could make you feel good, Aria,” he murmured, his hand on my waist tightening. “You want to come, don’t you?”
Oh my God, yes. My body was screaming for it. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Luca choked on a laugh. “You are so stubborn.” He didn’t say it in a mean way. His lips came down on mine again and I could tell he gave it his all, determined to break my resolve and a few times I got close. I was throbbing between my legs but I wouldn’t give in, not so soon. I had more control than that.
That night I fell asleep with Luca’s arms around me and his erection an insistent presence against my upper thigh. Maybe we could really make this marriage work.
