Lucca's Lust: The Luminara Series Book 3 (2 page)

Lust is a gift. It’s the desire for souls so beautiful.

Love is a gift. It’s the lust for souls deep within.

Light is a gift. It’s the love for both souls illuminating. ~ SJ Molloy

Dedicated to

Mum & Dad

“Rene & Norms”

This year, God decided it was time for you both to go to sleep together. Always together. He knew you were suffering, and so he decided to show you a loving light. He answered your prayers.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you both. I laugh and I cry, I smile and then I laugh some more, and that is what helps me accept that you are in a better place.

A place so bright and peaceful, that it is more than you ever hoped or dreamed of.

Only a few short months ago, you were both able to finally breathe with relief when you closed your eyes. You breathed because you were free of pain. You breathed because you were given new life, and you breathed because you finally got to be with Fraser.

When you opened your eyes and exhaled, your world was bright and beautiful again.

At peace and with one another again. The way it always has been and is meant to be.

Inseparable love. Forgiving love. Devastating love.

Forever love.

I believe in love stories. I believe in all-consuming love stories. I believe in heart-wrenching … heart-warming love stories. I believe in soul-searching love stories. I believe in tragic love stories. I believe in honest and hopeless love stories. Love stories so deep, emotional, and meaningful that your life is not complete without
your love
giving you their air to breathe.

To breathe together.

I believe in love stories, but most of all …
I believe in yours
.

I miss you to the moon and back. I hope you kiss in the sun, dance in the rain, skip in the light, and smile under the stars.

I love you, and I hope I make you both proud. Give Fraser a big kiss from me.

Forever in my heart.

Sara-Jara xx

Part one: Lussuria ~ Lucca’s Words

“Suzanne, what date do the new physiotherapists start in the clinic upstairs?” I ask my PA Suzanne, shifting restlessly in my chair in the conference suite of my club.

Placing my hand on my lower back, I apply pressure. Fuck, it is painful. I obviously twisted it when I was out on my run last night, or maybe it was the extra weight I added onto the bar for my upper body conditioning.

“I’m sure they start this week. Ronan mentioned it at the staff meeting yesterday. Although, I saw one of the girls going in this morning. She must be unpacking; their boxes were delivered yesterday.” She switches off the projector and closes down her laptop.

The board begins to gather up their notes to vacate the conference suite. I approach Ronan, my current Club di Energia manager, before they leave. “Ronan, when do the new physios begin?”

He pauses, scratching his temple deep in thought.

For fuck’s sake! This is what I am dealing with. Simple fucking question. Ticktock.

Ronan manages this club for me and at times that worries me. A good, likable guy, great with the members and staff, excellent people skills … but assertive and pragmatic?

No. I have to say, he is very much on probation.

Always a page behind, he is hesitant and I am not sure he truly fits the bill here. Miraculously, he met his targets again last month. I need to wait until he under performs to get him out.

“Um … erm … this week, I’m sure,” he answers with uncertainty, holding his black leather folder against his chest.

“This week? Do you know which day?” Sarcasm laces my voice, eyebrows rising in slight disbelief.

“I’ll find out for you. I can give you the guy’s number … name’s Mark but he’s not in today. It’s only his colleague unpacking I believe. Mark’s coming in to see me tomorrow,” he adds, flustered.

“Yes, get his number for me, please. Email the reports when you have them and go over the budget for the new launches with Kirsty. I will be contacting you about the renovation work to studio three, and I will have some contractors from Osurac look at it. In the meantime, keep them out of that studio. The last thing I need is a health and safety claim.” I shake my head before popping two painkillers and swallowing them.

I am not normally this curt or impatient with my staff, but shit, if this lower back pain is not making me grouchy. There will be no workout for me tonight after work either; I feel as stiff as a fucking board right now.

“Sure, Lucca. Have a good trip. If you need anything, just call me. I’ll catch up with you when you get back.” He reaches out his hand to shake mine. Now I feel like a complete dickhead for being sharp with him.

“Thanks, Ronan, I appreciate it. Sorry for being short. I am in a bit of discomfort today. Fucking back is killing me. I think it is a trapped nerve or something,” I apologise, wincing in pain before shaking his hand.

“Why don’t you go and see if the new physio can see you today before your trip. You should get it looked at.” The brightest idea he has had all fucking day. I might just do that and nod my head at his suggestion.

“Lucca, I am heading over to Osurac head office. Have a ton of work to do. Do you still need me here?” Suzanne asks, standing next to me with her folders, laptop, and bag ready to go.

“No, we are finished here today. Thanks for your help today. I really appreciate it. Can you get Kimberley to check us in online for my flight and email my Italian contractors … look at my diary and set a date this week for me to meet with them. I want to meet Dino first and see his plans,” I say before thanking and shaking hands with the remainder of my board on their way out of the conference suite leaving just Suzanne, Ronan, and myself.

“Okay, keep your phone on and tell your family I’m asking for them. Where are you staying?” Suzanne asks, switching her phone back on.

“I will stay at my grandparents’ property as my mamma and papa’s construction work is not finished. It is chaos at their place. Marco is coming with me, but he might stay with his papa. I am not sure what he wants to do. I will check in with you in the event I go to my farmhouse.” I double-cheek kiss her before she goes. I do not know what I would do without her; she is worth her weight in gold and some.

Suzanne and Marco are both invaluable to me. Marco and I go way back. Childhood mates and have been friends ever since. He is my right-hand man in business and life, I guess. I trust him completely … like a brother. There is nothing he would not do for me, or I for him, and that gives us a good solid bond. He has my back and I have his.

Not only are Suzanne and Marco great friends, they are both the two most loyal and important employees I have. They help me make Osurac Industries successful and effectively manage anything and everything I ask of them, from a personal or business perspective. They look after me, and I look after them. Always.

“Do you know what the new physio’s name is?” I ask Ronan, turning around to ensure no one has left anything on the oval table dominating the room. Picking up my suit jacket, I decide not to put it on because twisting causes me aggravation, and the length of time we have been sitting has seized my muscles even more so than they were.

“I’ve only met with Mark and Jane … the redhead. She’s a bit ditsy from what I gathered, but impressive CV and references.” Ronan stretches, straightening his tie, then places his hand in his trousers’ pockets.

“So it is Jane that is upstairs?” Jesus Christ … details, fucking details. He is the one who claims to know every individual in here on a first name basis.

“No, it’s Mark’s business partner upstairs. The sexy brunette. I think her name is Alex or something, but I’ll be making it a priority to find out.” He quirks his lips. Unbelievable, the horndog has it bad for our newest member of staff. Poor girl will not stand a fucking chance.

Ronan is known for being a bit of a player, which is why he gets on so well with the female members; he flirts with them all. Thinks I am fucking stupid, but … I invented the word charm.

He is married so I cannot say I approve. In fact, I abhor it and do not condone it. But as long as everything is harmless, kept professional, and nothing goes on in my club, what he does outside of this club is up to him.

“Sexy? Hmmm, so you have the hots for this new physio … the brunette?” I ask him coyly.

“Who doesn’t? She’s a big hit with the fellas. Talk of the gym floor. I think she’s going to be very popular indeed. Quiet, but sexy as fuck. That’s all I’m saying.” he says with an impish grin and a playful wink.

It gets me thinking. It has been a while since I had a brunette. Well there is Francesca, my ex-fiancée, but I would not say she is a brunette. She is raven black, just like her mood swings sometimes. Come to think about it, all the women I have had since Fran and I split have been blondes. The last time I had a brunette was
… ah fuck!

Jasmine.

A painful distant memory from my past.

Diamante.
Diamonds
.

Illuminato.
Light
.

Vivo.
Alive
.

Morte.
Jasmine’s death
.

Christ that was one of the nicest nights of my life, and one of the most traumatising and soul destroying. I have never quite got over it. Still haunts my dreams. Jasmine is the reason I am so thankful to be alive. She reminds me of light, of
diamonds
, of being alive … beautiful memories I will cherish. But she also reminds me of death. Tragic death and Hell … because that is where I found myself after she died.

Her life was taken right in front of my very eyes, and I could not do jack shit about it. It was one of those moments when you feel so high and happy after a period of feeling like shit, and then boom-crash-fucking-boom. You blink and become numb, cloaked in darkness. You try and help and everything ends up fucked-up anyway.

Total devastation.

Sudden trauma.

A fucking train wreck.

Like me, she was a cancer survivor and on her way to having a bright and beautiful future. Her life was taken from her and I watched. I saw the whole fucking nightmare play out in front of me. I was part of the whole fucking nightmare. If it was not for my good friend, Casey Huddersfield and her therapy, I would still be pretty fucked-up about the whole experience.

Jasmine—a smart, kind, and pretty girl— had been through more bad shit than anyone else I know, but she was positive and had a great outlook. She could have made it. Made a nice life for herself because she spent months rebuilding it and learning how to be a stronger woman. She deserved it.

I often ask myself why God would give that girl another chance at living, save her, give her hope and a chance of being healthy and happy. A chance to get on with her life and look towards a brighter future, only to take it away in the blink of an eye.
Darkness
.

She left me traumatised, shocked, and empty. She left me without warning, and she left me instantly … all because she ran from me. The only thing that can erase those awful images and horrific experience is to remember the one nice night we had, the months of friendship we shared, and the help we were able to give one another—the connection we bonded over. For that, I will always be grateful, and it is her I owe thanks to for being a better man.

A man once more.

A man thankful for being alive.

A man thankful for light.

After my surgery, I was left feeling agonisingly sorry for myself, stuck in a place of self-loathing and pity, totally pessimistic. I did not feel like a man.

Jasmine helped me. She helped me accept that I was not weak. I was still a man. She was good distraction and showed me I was still every bit as masculine as I was before. Before, I doubted myself. She was my first sexual encounter after my surgery. I was nervous because I always had such a high sex drive and loved a good fuck, until I doubted myself. The psychological effects internally bruised my mind and put me off sex … until that one nice night.