Lucca's Lust: The Luminara Series Book 3 (17 page)

It feels so nice having the privilege of such a beautiful and sweet woman lying next to me, and a few days ago when she blew me off in the clinic, I never would have imagined that she would be wrapped in my arms like this so soon.

Tonight is not exactly how I thought it would go, and it most certainly is not ideal for Lexi. Her sweet little head will be pounding in the morning, but I am so relieved she agreed to a date and that she is not protesting me taking care of her.

I spend the next while feathering light strokes across her skin and twirling the bottom of her hair through my fingers. Beginning to doze off, feeling a warm rush of contentment, Hazel falls through the main door to the suite at some point and bangs on the bedroom door, startling me.

Opening the door, she is singing—no slurring—a version of an Italian classic which she murders. She staggers in, shoving a pair of heeled shoes in my chest.

“Where’s my…”
hiccup
“…my little wallaby, Roo Roo…”
hiccup
“…I need to look after her. Franco…”
hiccup
“…said she was sick. She needs a bottle of wazzer.” Hazel is pissed as well. Christ! I cannot help but laugh.

“Did you say she needs a bottle of wazzer?” I ask, allowing her past to bounce off the doorframe.

“Yeah, water, that is what I said. She needs to drink up some wazzer…”
hiccup
“… no water. That’s what I mean.”

I place my finger to my mouth and hush her. I do not want her to wake up Lexi. She needs to sleep it off.

“Awe, look my little cubalub is sleeping and still wearing her fork … I mean frock,” she says, grabbing my arm for support.

“Hazel it is late. She had a drink and I have left some water next to her bed. She is sound asleep. I do not think you should wake her. What room do you want to sleep in?” I ask, rubbing my brow.

She hiccups and shrugs, so I lead her to a spare room, put on the light, place her shoes down, and tell her I will be back with
water
for her. Downstairs in the kitchen area of the suite, I grab some bottles of water and give one to Hazel before she conks.

“Did you have a good night?” I ask, watching her drop her shoes.

“’Tis was great. Grappa … no Vin Santo is my new rocket fuel…”
hiccup
“…what is in that shit? Oh, and I like cocktails too, who knew? Sugar all sugar, and mega bad for you. I have sinned. Fuck … I am a sinner. Any hoo, did you look after my cub?” she slurs then hiccups before opening her water and slugging it down.

“Yes I did. She is perfectly safe. Can I get you anything?” I ask.

“A hairdresser. I hate the frizzy look. Damn straighteners. I blame Roo. Was rushing me. I forgot them. How am I going to pull an Italian with this mop?” She pulls at her rather messy hair, making her point.

“Sorry, no can do. Your hair is not so bad. Can I get you anything else?” I think her headache tomorrow might worry her more than her hairstyle.

“Nope, I am tickety boo. If Roo has a nightmare, come and get me. Tell her it is a good job she is Mary-friggin-Poppins and hung all her clothes up. Oh fuck, I meant to lift pzammas…”
hiccup
“…pyjamas, I mean.” She giggles before collapsing on the bed.

“Night, Hazel,” I say, switching the light off.

“Night, lovely Lucca … the Italian Stallion. Don’t you dare harm a single hair on my cub’s body,” she mumbles.

Shaking my head in amusement, I lock the main door to the suite and go back to my room. Lexi has not moved, but a soft moan escapes her lips. Quietly, I place the dress over the chaise, use the bathroom, then join her back in bed.

Again, I wrap my arm around her, but this time as if sensing it is me, she hums and places her hand over my arm.

And I close my eyes together, taking a moment to thank my lucky fucking stars. When I open them I need to search for my heart because I just lost it somewhere between my chest and hers.

It is the best feeling in the world. The small sentiment, she has touched me … touched me in the physical and emotional sense, even though she is asleep and blissfully unaware she has a hold on me ... all of me.

Part one: Lussuria ~ Lucca’s Words

“Lussuria ~ Chapter Twelve: Flaring up the Fire”

Unadulterated Lust

Dozing, I jolt awake when I hear her cry, whimper, and whine words like “don’t touch me,” “stop,” and “don’t hurt me” while thrashing her body about beside me. What the fuck?

Jesus. She is having a nightmare.

I calm her down eventually, still wondering what the hell is going on with her. Why is she having bad dreams? The knife? The caution, nervousness, and fear? It all tells me she is afraid of something or someone. I am glad when she changes the topic because the thought of her being afraid makes me feel sick.

She says she needs to use the bathroom and is embarrassed about it. Cute. I do not do embarrassed, no boundaries, and definitely not with her. She will need to learn that about me. I was brought up in a family of very liberal people. No secrets. No hiding. Of course she refuses to let me take her, but I am not having her walk in case she is unsteady on her feet.

“We are not exactly strangers now. You have massaged me and met my family, so I would say we have done formalities. I have witnessed you vomit, so peeing is not a hassle,” I say. The funny thing is, she thinks I am joking. I am not. I am deadly serious.

When I leave her to it, I stand outside by the door but panic when I hear her bang against something. I push the door open, pick her up like a light feather, and take her back to bed. This girl is mighty stubborn and stroppy. I also like stroppy Lexi.

“Why on Earth did you try to stand up? I would have lifted you.”

“Because my balance will be fine. I’m capable of walking. I’m very independent and not used to having someone caring for me so intimately.”

My stomach tightens. She has never had anyone care for her like this? So intimately? This is not even intimate, not by my standards. Far from it. She has rendered me speechless. Why has no one shown her care, love, or attention? Why did that fucker of an ex not look after her? My head is plagued by thoughts, and I lose myself thinking about the millions of ways she should be cherished and shown attention.

Is that why she pushes me away? Is apprehensive? I wonder if it is because she has never been shown any proper love or care and either does not recognise it when it is given to her, or she is so used to being neglected that she is afraid to know any different. When I find out who the fucking idiotic useless prick is, I will fucking do him in.

I want to know what her dream was about, but she does not want to talk about it. She wants to go back to sleep. I go along with it because I know if I start digging, I will not stop until I find out what and why a monster tears her up at night. My mood has shifted, and not because of anything she has said or done. It is the thought that she has never been looked after.

Fuck it. I cannot resist. I want to give her some attention, show her some special care. Stolen subtle kisses against her hand when she was sleeping were discreet, but now I want her to
feel it
and know it.

Kissing her temple gently, I whisper, “Voi siete la più bella donna intrigante che abbia mai conosciuto. You are the most beautiful, intriguing woman I have ever met.” Feeling her pulse race, I see a smile embellish her face. She likes it. I now know she is not adverse to receiving romantic, sweet and intimate gestures, so there will be lots more where that came from.

A hell of a lot more.

Short, broken sleep is a pain in the dick, but when I have the most the most unassuming, gorgeous woman lying beside me, then it is a treat and I wish I could wake to this vision every morning. I wake early and admire her for a while, playing gently with the ends of her hair. Her brow creases and she chews the inside of her cheek when she is deep in sleep. Cute.

Making use of my early wake-up, I quietly lift fresh clothes from the built-in robe, and contemplate taking a shower, but instead I just freshen up. The alluring scent of her perfume clings to my skin, and I like it a lot. If she leaves here early to go back to her own room, then I will still be able to smell her presence long after. Fuck, I might never have Maria wash these bed sheets again.

Jesus … I am obsessed.

Opening the front door to the suite, I pick up the newspaper I asked to be dropped off by one of Nonno’s hotel porters. Flicking through the Italian business pages, nothing holds my attention because I am too engrossed with the sexy damsel in the striking blue dress sleeping peacefully next to me, hair mussed over my pillow, arms tossed overhead.

The noise of my newspaper must rouse her from sleep.

God, I love sleepy Lexi.

She is cranky, groggy, and frowning, coming to, but shit, if it is not perfect and another side of her I adore. When she goes to check on Hazel, I order some breakfast, calling the kitchen directly, then make a quick call to Nonno and Nonna straight after.

When Lexi returns, she nervously sits on the edge of the bed. I encourage her to lie back down because she does not need to be up. She seems pleased I want to look after her and bashfully smiles when I tell her I have ordered food.

“It is nice to see you smile and relax, Lexi. You have such a beautiful smile, dolcezza. I thought after you have something to eat and get ready, we could finish the chat we started last night before dinner,” I mention nonchalantly because now she is awake and seems much better than she did last night. Hopefully she will want to talk.

Her smile fades. Maybe it is too early in the morning for her, or she is still feeling like crap and trying to hide it. She says she is better, but I am not so sure. Nonno and Nonna interrupt us with the food. I am glad they came to check on her.

“You had us worried, beautiful girl. I am thrilled you are okay. I knew Lucca would take good care of you,” Nonno says enthusiastically. Lexi blushes and her eyes flutter with embarrassment.

“I am so very sorry for everything. It’s bad enough I ruined your dinner again, but then I had to go and vomit on the floor.” She looks down as if ashamed, but I do see her wrinkle her nose, angry with herself. There is no need for her to be. The main thing is she is better. Who the fuck cares that she was sick on the floor. Hell, I have been sick in worse places.

“Your friend Hazel was really worried about you, and I am afraid I may have given her a strong grappa to calm her nerves. She was showing us some sort of body moves,” Nonna says sweetly, clasping her hands.

“… Body Combat, that is the one,” Nonno pipes up.

I am finding this fucking hysterical. Sorry I missed it. I like Hazel, full of mischief and energy it appears. Lexi however does not think it is amusing. She covers her hands with her face, clearly embarrassed by her friend’s drunken act.

“I just want to thank you all for everything you did last night. Thank you for helping me and being so kind. I truly am sorry.” The tone of her voice is so harmonious mixing with the intonation of her accent, I know it is said with sincerity and compassion. She is too much. My heart just liquefied into a puddle of mush.

Nonna smiles at Lexi with the most loving intention in those caring eyes of hers. I know exactly how she feels. I feel it too. Lexi is a fucking angel.

“We will let you enjoy breakfast. Lucca will tell us how you are, and Lucca, you have a special girl there … I feel it.” Nonno winks at me. We all feel it. I do not just feel it, I know it. She is a special girl … my special girl.

I just hope Lexi
feels
it too.

Once Lexi is comfortable and begins to eat, I watch her with rapt attention. Sussing out her likes, dislikes and habits, but really I am looking for more. I am searching for answers. Thinking about her nightmare last night, I need to clear this with her, especially if we are going on a date.
A proper date
.

I cannot have her be afraid of me. I need to protect her if she is scared.

Needing to break the ice, I say, “Promise you will trust me when I say that I am not going to hurt you. I will keep you safe. I want to get to know you better.”

Lexi tenses and stops eating. It is hard to tell if she remembers she had a nightmare, but going by the look on her face, she knows, she just does not want to talk about it. But fuck! I cannot get some of those disturbing things she said out my head.

Stop.

Don’t touch me.

Don’t hurt me.

Yesterday, I thought I would be able to take this relationship slow and be patient, allow Lexi to set the pace. The fucked-up ex who did this to her was an annoyance yesterday, but now he is a fucking mission. A mission of mass destruction. I will destroy him if I find out he has hurt her.

The minute she cried those words in her sleep, every intention of taking things slow with her got fucked right out the window. She made herself my priority the second she tossed and turned in her sleep.