Lucca's Lust: The Luminara Series Book 3 (8 page)

“I would like Mark’s number please,” I add. He is wise not to push me. He walks over to his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and writes the number down. “Did she refuse to see you or something?” he asks, staring at my running clothes.

“She saw me. And like I said, keep away. If I find out you have been inappropriately referring to her as the
hot, sexy brunette
with colleagues or members, I will take this to HR. Give the woman a bit of respect please. She is not some random whore for you all to fantasise over.” I fold the paper and place it in my shorts.

I know I am coming off as harsh, but his notorious reputation and comments from earlier are at the front of my mind. The sexy brunette
is
taken. She
is
out of bounds, and I will not tolerate him degrading her or drawing unwanted male attention to her behind my back.

She
is
mine and the only attention I would allow Lexi to be shown is from me. Attention in the best possible way, the gentlemanly way. Not from a user … player … inconsiderate dickhead like him … the old me.

“Lucca, I’m sorry if I sounded offensive or unprofessional earlier. I was just being casual, man to man, giving you the heads up. Come on …you can’t say you never noticed how … um …” He slackens his tie. Good … I hope you feel the heat, prick. You fucking should. He should take notice of my threat because I fucking mean it. And I noticed alright, but I am not about to tell this dickhead that.

Without commenting, I lean over giving him a perfunctory hand shake. “I am glad we cleared that up. Great work today. I never told you how much I appreciated your insight in the meeting. Please tell Kirsty I am sorry about my tone. The back pain and my heavy workload are making me cranky, so I am sorry if I sound unreasonable.”

I lie. In fact I have never felt as elated, as on top of the world, as I do right now. My back pain seems to be subsiding, muscles relaxed, headache surpassed, and mind chock-f with visions of the beautiful Doc, but shit, my change in temperament comes from a deep-rooted possessive alpha male streak I have which has apparently decided to raise its caveman head.

All to protect the Doc, the intriguing woman upstairs.

“No worries, I understand. I hope that back of yours eases up.”

Leaving him to it, I grab my bag and suit from the changing room, forgoing changing back into it. The smell of Lexi’s perfume clings to my T-shirt, and I want to indulge in her scent just a little longer.

I retrieve my paperwork, laptop, keys, and phone from my office then lock up. I contemplate waiting for Lexi to finish, offer to drive her home … anything to steal more time with her, but I have the lads coming over tonight and need to pack for my trip.

From the lobby I make a call to Rose, my house keeper, reminding her not to food shop for me this week when she does her errands and to tell Peter to put my Bentley in for a service.

I get caught with some regulars on the way out. Some handshakes, general chit-chat, then I have my bags tossed in the back of my Aston Martin—top down, sunglasses on, heading for home.

The enticing scent of a lamb hot pot, home-made steak pies, and freshly baked cinnamon buns await me when I arrive home. I meet Rose with a double-cheek kiss and pull her in for a warm embrace. This woman spoils me more than my mamma. Well, maybe not as much, but she is a good substitute. I love having her in my life.

“The fridge is stocked with beers, potatoes are in the oven, and your shirts are all pressed and hanging up for you. I wasn’t sure which ones you would like to take,” she says sweetly, folding down that mumsy little apron she wears.

“Have I told you how much I love you, and how beautiful you look today with your new haircut? I get to see more of your beautiful face. I like it on you.” I charm her and give her a wink before making my way over to lift the top off the cake tray.

She swiftly smacks my hand away. “Not before dinner, young man, and yes, you tell me every day. Thank you for noticing my haircut. Don’t you think I perhaps look older?” she chirps merrily, turning the slow cooker down.

“Older? Fuck no. You look twenty years younger. I cannot wait to parade you about on my arm in the village.” I beam a megawatt smile at her, dimple and all.

“Language, young man. And stop flirting. It’s not good for Peter’s ego. Although, as always, I’m flattered. You really do need to get a girlfriend. This house is far too big for just you, Lucca. It is about time you had a wife and filled it full of kids,” she says, opening the oven to check on the spuds.

“Your husband knows I have a crush on you. If I fill him full of whiskey, he will never know we have run off into the sunset. And I do not need a wife in my life, Rose, when I have you.” I wink, breaking a piece of cinnamon bun off and munching it. She tsk-tsks, rolling her eyes and waving me off with her finger.

Rose has been desperate for me to find the right person. She goes on about children and me being lonely, but I do not really think about loneliness because I am too busy working. When I mention that she and Peter have gone through life without having kids, she points out that they have but they also have each other. She says I need someone. A significant other.

There was a brief moment at New Year’s I felt a pang of emptiness watching my brothers bringing in the bells with their wives.

It reinforced that I do not have anyone to share intimate and special moments with, but I dismissed the notion. I have not thought about it again, not until today. I think about Lexi, the feelings I had after sharing time with her, and the addiction she has left me with.

I desire her like no other. My gut instinct tells me she would be someone to share special moments with.

A warmth heats my skin just thinking about her. If I were ever to share my bed … my house … my life and my heart with someone, then it would be with a woman like her. It would be with her.

I can imagine her walking barefoot around my home, standing in this very kitchen, sharing meals with me. I imagine being curled up on the sofa, having her legs wrapped around my waist in the pool, her small little body leaning against my chest in the bathtub.

Shit, I feel a hard, sudden stab in my heart leaving a pang of hollowness. Emptiness. There is a void in my life and I know just how to fill it.

Rose is right, just like my parents and grandparents … I need to settle down. Work is a good distraction, as is a quick mindless fuck now and then, but I will never feel complete or truly happy until I feel loved and can give love sharing my life with someone.

I grab a quick shower before the lads arrive for the Champions league football final. Throwing on jeans and a plain white T-shirt, I return to my bathroom to pick up my running clothes from today and hold my T-shirt up to my nose, inhaling a sweet, head-tripping scent, recalling luscious chocolate eyes close to mine, plump lips close to mine, and the most beautiful smile in the whole damn world.

Sweet flowers … traces of musky feminine perfume—the lingering kind. Fucking drug. I inhale it until I feel dizzy then catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Fucking pussy.

What am I? Sixteen years old?

Get a grip
, I will myself. I fold the clothes, but as opposed to tossing them in my laundry basket, I sit them on the bedside drawers with consideration … deep consideration.

Looking at the bed, an exhausted sigh escapes my lips. Empty … big … unused. In need of a woman to spread herself across it and fall asleep in my arms.
Lexi
. Taking a moment, I get my shit together then prepare to pack for my trip.

I spend the next twenty minutes picking out clothes and laying them on my too-big-and-empty mattress before zipping up my travel bags. The fact that Rose has everything so orderly and tidy in my walk-in makes it easy to find what I am looking for. If I have forgotten anything it really does not concern me. I have my ways to order anything I need. Plus, I have a fully-stocked wardrobe at my farmhouse, and both my parents’ and grandparents’ villas.

Savio and Armando, my brothers, are already in the kitchen unwrapping foil from what looks like parmesan chicken and tortellini. I greet them in English. Because we have spent many years in Scotland, we all speak fluent English. We do converse in Italian from time to time, but often at home we prefer English as our primary language, especially as their kids are expected to speak in English at school and nursery.

“Hey, how are you? Good to see you both.” I give both of them a brotherly embrace.

Savio grabs my cheeks the same way my papa does and kisses me. “We are great. Looking good, Lucca. All set for tomorrow?” he asks, raising a brow. He is referring to spending time with our grandparents and parents, knowing I will be flustered, faffed over, and spoiled within an inch of my life.

“You are just jealous, Savio, my brother,” Armando says, giving me similar male affection. I laugh, grabbing some Peronis out the fridge. I flip the caps and pass them over. Before I forget, I set my beer down, retrieve the gifts from the lounge, and pass them to Savio and Armando.

“That better not be more gifts for the kids. Sarah will fucking annihilate you if you keep spoiling them like this. You know how much she hates to see them spoiled with flashy things,” Armando says, looking conspicuously at the two rectangle boxes containing their goodies.

“Tell Sarah to deal with it. If she thinks for one minute I am not going to spoil my nieces and nephews, then she is delusional. I love her, you know that, but she cannot deny me the fun of treating the little rascals,” I say, peering under the tissue paper of Antonia’s gift box. A beautiful white silk Dior dress. Cute. Kimberley and Suzanne have done well finding exactly what I asked for.

“This will look good on her,” I add, patting Armando on the shoulder gesturing towards the box.

“Nando is right. They all love you, Lucca. You do not need to lavish them in gifts for them to love you. It is completely unnecessary. We appreciate it, but honestly, Bro, you do not have to do this,” Savio adds, only to get an almighty scowl. He normally has my back.

Is it pick on middle brother day today or what?

And I do not think Kate, Savio’s wife, will object. She is a shopaholic and appreciates nice things, so I know he will not cop any shit from her. Why does he need to dampen my fun?

“I am not trying to buy their love. I want to do it for them. I enjoy treating them. Fuck, it is not as if I cannot afford it and there are only four of them … it is not like …” Before I finish, Armando shakes his head, placing the boxes on the table, and Savio mutters something about me being stubborn.

“Nando, give up. We are wasting our time. He will not fucking listen. Just you wait until you have kids one day. You will see that they do not need these expensive things. They just need lots of love,” Savio says nonchalantly, but the look on my face panics him, and his face pinches with regret. I feel like he has just kicked me in the balls when I am already down.

I did almost have a chance of loving a son. My son, who I would have spoiled endlessly with love and given him anything else he needed had God given me that chance. And … as for my chances of being a father in the future, he knows it is slim for me.

Foolishly, I never froze any sperm when they told me to. My luck on the fertility front might run out. I might get sick again, I might need chemotherapy, and then my chances will be slim to zero.

What am I even thinking? I do not even have a partner … someone to love … someone to cherish. The reality hits me like a tumble of fucking boulders. I might never be a papa … not like them.

“Lucca, I am sorry, Bro. I did not mean that the way it sounded. I should have thought. I am an insensitive prick. I really did not intend to hurt you,” Savio says, wrapping his arm round my back in a manly but protective hug.

“Hey, I know you never meant it. It is okay. Look, it is no secret to you both that I might not be able to have kids, but I am good with that … really I am. Life is what it is and if kids are not in the cards for me, then so be it. I have a great life and it is even better that I am blessed and lucky to have nieces and nephews, so if I cannot spoil my own kids, then let me spoil them,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady and sure. The wince of pain etched on Savio’s face is accentuated with a nervous twitch of unease and regret glossing over his eyes.

“You are a great man, the best. We all love you dearly for your positivity and generosity. Thank you for the gifts. We do appreciate it, but just so you know, you will always have a special place in all the kids’ hearts, even if you never spoil them. They idolise you. Fuck, we idolise you … you are the most hard-working, kind, honest, loving man there is. You are a great role model for our kids. They are blessed to have you, Lucca,” Armando says sincerely, tapping his beer against the neck of mine.

Fuck … I feel overwhelmed and a little emotional tonight. Rose’s words from earlier, having this talk with my brothers, thinking about the mysterious Lexi and the intense passionate desire she ignited in me tonight fucks with my mind.

Mamma and Papa raised us all to be sensitive, open and honest, and to wear our heart on our sleeves. We have always been emotionally in tune with each other and very close, so why am I finding it hard to be honest with them? I should be able to tell them what I want and what I feel.

I ask myself, do I want a family? Yes. Do I want someone to call mine? Yes. Do I want to be able to give love in abundance to a wife and kids? The answer is yes. How can I not, when I see my brothers so happy. They are already complete.

They have everything I have never had. Family. Both of them say they look up to me, admire me, but they have no idea how much I envy what they have, how much I respect them for being the amazing papas and husbands that they are. I admire
them
, more than they will ever know, but the words do not come. I have a sorry-ass lump lodged in my throat.

The simple, forgiving, loving relationship with a wife and kids is something I have convinced myself might never happen for me. It is probably why in the past a quick mindless fuck has helped me forget. Forget the bad choices I have made in life and forget the twisted hand of fate I was dealt with.