90

Luke cancelled his plans for the next day and sent Matthew out to do whatever was necessary.
As a woman in our world, you learned early not to ask too many questions because the answers were rarely good.
Luca got ready first and when I entered the kitchen dressed and showered, he was staring at the refrigerator with a frown. “Can you cook?”
I huffed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never made your own breakfast?”
“I usually grab something on my way to work, except on days when Marianna is here and makes me something.” Her eyes scanned my body. I had chosen shorts, a tank top and sandals since it was supposed to be very hot today. “I love your legs.”
I shook my head, then moved closer to him to peer into the refrigerator. He didn’t take a step back and our arms brushed against each other. This time I managed not to pull back. His touch was not uncomfortable, and when it didn’t scare me, I could really imagine enjoying it. The refrigerator was well stocked. The problem was that I had never cooked either, but I wasn’t going to tell Luca about it. I took the carton of eggs and red peppers and laid them on the kitchen counter. It could not be that difficult to make an omelet. I had observed our cooking a few times in the past.
Luke leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as I took a frying pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove. I looked at him over my shoulder. “Aren’t you going to help me? You can cut the peppers. From what I hear, you know how to handle a knife.”
This made the corners of his lips twitch, but he pulled a knife out of the stump and approached me. The top of my head only reached his chest with my flat sandals. I had to admit that I kind of liked it. I handed him the bell pepper and pointed to a wooden cutting board because I had a feeling Luca would start cutting right on the expensive black granite countertops. We worked in silence but Luca kept giving me furtive glances. I put a little butter in the pan, then seasoned the beaten eggs. I wasn’t sure if it was necessary to add milk or cream, but decided against it. I poured the eggs into the hot pan.
Luca pointed his knife at the chopped peppers. “What’s wrong with these?”
“Shit,” I whispered. The peppers should have gone in sooner.
“Have you ever cooked?”
I ignored him and threw the peppers into the pan with the eggs. I had turned the stove on full blast and soon a hint of a burning smell reached my nose. I quickly grabbed a spatula and tried to flip the omelet, but it stuck to the pan. Luca was looking at me with a smirk.
“Why don’t you make us coffee?” I snapped as I scraped the half-burned eggs from the bottom of the pan.
When I thought the eggs were safe to eat, I put them on two plates. They didn’t look all that tasty. Luca’s eyebrows rose when I placed a plate in front of him. He dropped onto the stool, and I jumped onto the one next to him. I watched as he picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of egg, then brought it to his lips. He swallowed, but it was obvious he was not too impressed. I took a bite myself and almost spit it out. The eggs were too dry and too salty. I dropped my fork and gobbled down half the coffee, not even caring that it was hot and black. “Oh my God, this is disgusting.”
There was a hint of amusement on Luca’s face. His more relaxed expression made him seem much more approachable. “Maybe we should go out for breakfast.”
I glared at my coffee. “How hard can it be to make an omelet?”
Luca let slip what might have been a laugh. Then his eyes returned to my bare legs, which almost touched his. He put his hand on my knee, and I froze with the cup against my lips. He didn’t do anything, just lightly ran his thumb back and forth over my skin. “What would you like to do today?”
I pondered, even though his hand was very distracting. I was alternating between wanting to take it off my knee and asking him to continue stroking me. “The morning after our wedding night, you asked me if I knew how to fight, so maybe you could teach me how to use a knife or a gun, and maybe some self-defense.”
Surprise crossed Luca’s face. “Are you thinking of using them against me?”
I huffed. “As if I could ever beat you in a fair fight.”
“I don’t fight fair.”
Of course you don’t. “So you’re going to teach me?”
“I want to teach you a lot of things.” His fingers tightened on my knee.
“Luca,” I said softly. “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, Bratva won’t care that I’m a woman.
That got him. He nodded, “All right. We have a gym where we train and do combat training. We could go there.” I smiled, excited to get out of the attic and do something useful. “I’ll get my workout clothes.” I jumped off the stool and ran upstairs.
*** Thirty minutes later we parked in front of a dingy building. I was full of excitement and was glad to have something to distract myself with from what had happened yesterday. Luca and I got out of the car and he carried our bags as we walked through a rusty steel door. There were security cameras everywhere, and a middle-aged man sat in a corner with a table, a chair, and a TV.
In his holster he had two pistols. He straightened up when he saw Luca, then he saw me and his eyes widened .
“My wife,” Luca said with a hint of warning, and the man’s gaze turned away from me. Luca put a hand on my lower back and guided me through another door that led into a huge hallway. There was a boxing ring, all kinds of exercise machines, dummies for fighting and knife training, and a corner with mats where some men were training. I was the only woman.
Luca grimaced. “Our locker rooms are reserved for men only. We don’t usually get female visitors.
“I know you’ll make sure no one sees me naked.”
“You bet.”
I laughed and a few faces turned toward us, then a few more until they all started staring at me. They quickly went back to what they were doing earlier when Luke led me toward a side door, but they kept giving me poorly disguised looks. Some of the older men shouted a greeting to Luca. He opened the door, then stopped. “Let me check if anyone is in there.” I nodded, then leaned against the wall as Luca disappeared into the locker room. The moment he was gone, I could feel the full force of the men’s attention shift toward me. I tried not to let them see how nervous their gaze made me and almost breathed a sigh of relief when Luca came back out, followed by a few men who pretended not to notice me. I wondered what Luca had said to them.
“Come.” He held the door open for me and we entered a low-ceilinged room filled with humidity and the smell of too many hardworking male bodies. I wrinkled my nose. Luca laughed.
“We do not address sensitive female noses.”
I took his bag and headed for a locker. Luca followed him and placed his own bag on the scratched wooden bench.
“Aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” I asked, my hands on the hem of his shirt.
Luca raised an eyebrow before removing his holster and then slipping his T-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular, tanned torso. He dropped the shirt on the bench, then reached for his belt, still with that look of defiance in his eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I turned my back to him and slid the tank top over my head. I reached behind me to open the bra hook, but Luca’s hand was there and he deftly did it for me. Bastard. Of course , he could open a bra with one finger. I picked up the jogging bra and put it on, trying not to think about Luca who was no doubt watching every movement. I took off my shorts and could have kicked myself for choosing a thong this morning. I lowered it too and felt Luca hold his breath as I leaned forward slightly. My cheeks flushed with heat, realizing what kind of vision I had just offered him. I grabbed one of the black panties I always wore when I worked out on the treadmill, then put my jogging shorts over it and turned to Luca. He was wearing black sweatpants and an ultra-tight white T-shirt that showed off his spectacular body. There was a bulge in his pants. All because of my butt?
“Is that what you wear for self-defense classes?”
I looked at myself. “I don’t have anything else. This is what I wear when I go jogging.” The shorts were tight and came high on my thighs, but I didn’t like the excessive fabric when I ran.
“You realize I’m going to have to kick every guy who looks at you the wrong way, right? And with this look, my men will have a hard time not looking at you the wrong way.”
I shrugged. “It’s not my job to force them to control themselves. Just because I’m wearing skimpy clothes doesn’t mean I’m inviting them to look. If they can’t behave, that’s their problem.”
Luca led me out of the locker room and toward the sparring mats. The men there immediately stepped back and purposely did not look 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 did not take one for himself.
He positioned himself in front of me, looking completely relaxed. He must have known that everyone was watching, but he acted as if he couldn’t care less. This was not a private thing. He had to put on a show for his men. “Attack me, but try not to cut yourself.”
“Wouldn’t you also take a knife?”
Luca shook his head. “I don’t need one. I’ll have yours in a minute.”
I squinted as I heard his confident tone. He was probably right, but I didn’t like him saying it . “Then what should I do?”
“Try to score a hit. If you can cut me, you win. I want to see how you move.”
I caught my breath and tried to forget the men watching me. I tightened my grip on the knife, then sprinted forward. Luca was moving quickly. He dodged my jab, grabbed my wrist and spun me around until my back collided with his chest.
“You don’t have my knife yet,” I gasped. His fingers around my wrist tightened slightly, 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 dent it.” He let go of me and I stumbled forward.
“Again,” Luca said. I tried a couple of times, but I didn’t even come close to cutting him. For my next attempt, I decided to stop playing fair. I advanced toward him, then, as he tried to catch me, I kicked him between the legs. The men cheered, but Luca’s hand grabbed my foot before it could make an impact, and before I could realize what was happening I fell on my back with a heavy thud. My breath caught and the knife slipped from my hand. I squeezed my eyes shut. Luca touched my stomach and my muscles tightened under his warm palm. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
I opened my eyes. “Yes. I’m just trying to catch my breath.” Then I scanned the crowd. “Don’t you have a soldier only five feet tall and terrified of his own shadow who would be willing to fight me?”
“My men are afraid of nothing,” Luca said aloud. He held out his hand and made me stand up. He turned to his soldiers. “Is there anyone willing to fight my wife?”
Of course, no one came forward. They were probably afraid that Luca would skin them alive.
Some of them shook their heads, chuckling.
The shadow of a smile crossed Luca’s face. “You’ll have to fight me.”
After a few more attempted attacks, I was breathless and annoyed at my inability to hurt Luca even slightly, but then an opportunity presented itself. He was holding me against his body and his upper arm was close to my face, so I turned around and bit him. He was so surprised that he let me go and I tried to hit him with the knife, but he grabbed my wrist. “Did you bite me?” he asked as he stared at my teeth marks on his bicep.
“Not hard enough. There’s not even any blood,” I said.
Luca’s shoulders contracted once, then again. He was struggling with laughter. It wasn’t the effect I had anticipated 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.
*** On the way home we got something to eat, then settled on the rattan sofa on the rooftop terrace with a glass of wine.
“I’m surprised,” I finally said. 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 would really try.”
“I told you I would. I keep my word.”
“I bet this is hard for you.” I pointed to the space between us.
“You have no idea. I want to kiss you really damn hard.”
I hesitated. Kissing him had felt good. Luca put the glass down, then moved a little closer and touched my waist. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”
I opened 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 feeling of his tongue and lips. Luca did not push, never moved his hand from my waist but he had begun to lightly massage my skin there and with his other hand was massaging my scalp. How could I feel him all the way down between my legs?
Finally I lay down on the couch, Luca leaning over me. I could feel that I was getting wet but I didn’t have the time or concentration to feel embarrassed. Luca’s kisses kept me occupied. The tingling in my center became hard to ignore and I tried to relieve the tension by bringing my legs together .
Luca drew back with a complicit expression. Heat rose to my cheeks.
“I could make you feel good, Aria,” he murmured, cupping my waist with his hand. “You want to come, don’t you?”
Oh my God, yes. My body was screaming it. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Luca choked in laughter. “You are so stubborn.” He didn’t say it in a mean way. His lips rested on mine again and I could tell he had given his all, determined to break my resolve and a few times I came close. My legs throbbed but I wasn’t going to give in, not so soon. I was more in control than that.
That night I fell asleep with Luca’s arms around me and his erection an insistent presence against my thigh. Maybe we could really make this marriage work.