Give a Little (14 page)

“My Ducati, Beatrice.” He matched her expression. “Really, Beatrice. Your mind is always on sex. I’m more than a toy for your pleasure.”

She rolled her eyes.

Stepping forward, he held her chin and lifted her gaze so she had to meet his. In his eyes, she read hope and desire, but it was the vulnerability that made her pause.

“Come with me,” he whispered, his tone serious and urgent. “Give me this week, truly. I promise you won’t regret it.”

He looked so hopeful, so eager, that she had to say yes. Swallowing her misgivings, she nodded.

Triumph lit his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her, his lips hungry and demanding. A reciprocating hunger flared in her belly, and she stepped back, blinking, startled by its intensity.

Brushing back her hair, he said, “Let’s go, Beatrice.”

She looked down at the clothes he’d given her. “I don’t understand the clothes. I have my own.”

“You’ll need protective clothing for the motorcycle rather than the fine clothing you brought.”

“There are jeans here.”

He grinned. “You won’t break out in a rash.”

A sudden thought had her narrowing her eyes. “Who did these belong to?”

“I bought them for you today, when I left the house.” He tipped his head. “Give me the next question quickly so we can leave while it’s still nice out.”

She rolled her eyes. “What if they don’t fit?”

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I know your body, your every curve. They will fit.”

She stifled a shiver by sheer force of will. Giving him a look, she turned and headed upstairs to change.

“Pack an overnight bag,” he called after her.

In her room, she stared at the clothing, irritated, confused, and amused all at once. No one had told her how to dress since she was two and Fran tried to make her wear ruffles. She’d put her foot down, and she hadn’t been nearly as big as she was now.

But Luca was concerned about her safety, so she’d humor him. This time.

The jeans were surprisingly flattering. With it, there was a tight-fitting T-shirt and black cashmere sweater, also fitted. She shook her head as she pulled them on. It was surprising that he hadn’t bought her underwear as well.

By her bed there was a pair of black and silver ankle boots, nothing like her usual style, but they were comfortable and, she supposed, necessary for the motorcycle ride.

There was also a small bag, which she supposed was for her things. She packed them quickly and then checked herself in the mirror before she rejoined him.

She looked different—not just the clothing but also her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, like she had a fever.

One thing was certain: She had definitely caught something. Smoothing her hair, she went downstairs to meet Luca.

He was in the kitchen, though he’d obviously gone to change himself. He leaned against the counter, chatting on his mobile in Italian. He wore jeans, too, and an open-collared shirt with a leather jacket on top.

He looked quite scrumptious—not that she’d admit that to his face. She stood, all business, waiting for him to end his call.

His gaze went down her body and back up slowly, and then he nodded. He said something more, all of it sounding dire. But then, in Italian everything was life or death, it seemed. Ending his call, he lifted a leather jacket from a chair by the table. “Try this.”

She arched her brow but decided it was easier to comply in this instance. It was his week, she reminded herself. She was doing this to meet with Stallon-E. Setting the bag down, she slipped it on.

“Do you like it?” he asked, watching her as though he was concerned about her true feelings.

“This isn’t how I normally dress.”

He stepped up to her and slid his arms around her waist. “I like how you dress, but I want you to be warm and protected on my motorcycle.”

“Then this will do.”

He smiled like she’d given him the world. With his arm about her shoulders, he picked up their bags and led her out. She slipped her sunglasses on and pretended she was on solid ground.

Strapping a helmet on her, he gave her brief instructions and put her on the back. She clung to him tightly as he roared off, feeling precarious and out of control. Luca was the only thing keeping her grounded, and she hated that.

But slowly she let go, because there wasn’t anything else she could do. It wasn’t long before she stopped fighting it and relaxed into the ride. The motor vibrated under her, and the wind lashed at her, and she tingled she felt so alive.

They drove on the Autostrada for a while, but then he took an exit onto a country road. They seemed to meander a short while on it before Luca made a turn onto a gravel road.

A lovely stone building was visible at the end. It had to be where they were going.

At the end of the dirt road, he motioned her down. Easing from the back, she took her helmet off to look around. There was an old stone building that included a tower, a dried-out moat, and a peacock strutting across the dirt path.

While he parked his motorcycle in the parking area below, she pulled out her mobile to see where they were.

No cell service.

Frowning, she turned off the wifi and tried again. Not a single bar of connectivity. Where had he brought her? Siberia?

As he walked up the incline to join her, she asked, “Where are we?”

“Polesine Parmense.”

As if that meant something to her. Nodding, she tried again. “What is this place?”

“Antica Corte Pallavicina.” He carried his helmet up the gravel road to what looked like the main building. “It’s a thirteenth-century castle that’s now a small hotel and world class restaurant. They’re famous for their
culatelli
, the cured pigs. And Parmesan, of course.”

Of course. “I take it we’re having lunch here.”

“Dinner, and we have a room reserved. We’ll stay here for a night or two.”

But there was no connection to the outside world. Here, it was just her and him, and she didn’t like that. He had to know that.

He had to have planned that.

She put her hands on her hips. “Did you bring me here on purpose?”

“This isn’t the sort of place you happen on by accident, is it?” He motioned her to follow with a smile. “Trust me. You’ll like it. Give it a chance.”

There were only six rooms on the property, and as they were shown to theirs she looked at Luca and realized she was dealing with an evil genius. She’d have to be more vigilant around him.

She waited until they were shown to their room to say, “I didn’t bring enough for more than a night here.”

“You won’t need very much.”

Her mother had said as much. Tapping her mobile to her lip, she looked around and assured herself that it was just a night.

“Your mobile is useless here, Beatrice.” He looked at her pointedly. “You have only me to occupy you.”

“I realize that.” She tossed her mobile onto a table and set her purse next to it. “So entertain me then. That’s what you had in mind, wasn’t it? To show me that you’re entertaining?”

He advanced on her, and she had the urge to back away.

But she never backed away from a challenge, and this was no different. She stood her ground, daring him with her eyes to make a move.

His arms stole around her waist, and he pulled her to him. “Do you know what I want to do with you right now?”

She shivered, her imagination running wicked. “What?”

“I want to take a nap.” He lifted her and carried her to bed.

Luca woke up wrapped around a fully clothed, sleeping Beatrice. He pushed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent.

She stirred, stretching, turning in his arms. She blinked her eyes open and then frowned. “We napped.”

“That’s what I said we’d do.”

“I didn’t think we were actually going to
nap
.”

Amused, he leaned on an elbow and smiled down at her. “What did you think we were going to do?”

She arched her brow. “Do I have to draw you a diagram?”

“No, but I’d probably appreciate it.” He kissed her quickly on the lips. “We have a couple hours before dinner. What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know.” She slid her arms around him, her leg snaking between his. “What do you suggest?”

“A bath,” he said sitting up. He scooped her into his arms and carried her through the room to the bathroom.

Beatrice sighed when she saw it. “There’s a Jacuzzi tub.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it.” He set her down and leaned over to run the water. Looking at the items on the ledge, he picked the scented bath salts to throw in. When he turned around, she was already taking off her clothes.

He’d seen her undress before, but there was something particularly intimate in this moment—magical, even. The waning afternoon light streamed into the bathroom, lighting her hair from behind into a golden halo around her head. She shimmied out of the clothes he’d bought her and stood in her fancy lingerie that he loved so much.

He swallowed, awed, humbled, that he got to see this side of her.

“What?” she asked, frowning when she noticed him staring at her.

He shook his head, going to embrace her. He placed the gentlest of kisses on her forehead. “Thank you.”

“For?”

For being magnificent. For being obstinate. For being spirited and intelligent. “For being you.”

And one day, perhaps for being his. He closed his eyes and prayed to Heaven that it could be so.

“Me is all I can be,” she said in her usual practicality.

“Adorable is all you can be,” he vowed, running a hand down her hair.

“I have
never
been adorable, not even when I was a baby. The bath is going to overflow,” she said, nodding at it, as she wound her hair into a knot on her head.

He turned to shut the faucet off. He heard a light splash and glanced over his shoulder in time to see a naked Beatrice submerge into the tub.

Exhaling a blissful sigh, she sank down to her shoulders. “This is perfect.”

She
was perfect. He quickly stripped out of his clothes, conscious of her gaze on him, and joined her.

He sat across from her, tangling his legs with hers. “It’s always nice to take a bath after a ride. How did you do on the back?”

“I liked it.” She smiled. “I didn’t think I would. I don’t like not being in control.”

“Is that so?” he said mockingly.

“I know it comes as a shock to you.” She chuckled, a breathy, light sound.

The sound paralyzed him. It wasn’t from her belly, but it was genuine, with her eyes lit in humor. He smiled in return and, heartened, he asked, “Were you always that way?”

“You mean as a child? Yes.” She winked at him. “I hated doing what I didn’t want to do, and I disliked not being in charge even more. Curse of the firstborn.”

He tried to picture her as a little girl, her chin set and her feet dug in as she refused to do what her parents wanted. He laughed softly. “At least your parents had more children to distract them from your willfulness. I was the only child and the sole focus of my mother’s frustrations.”

“The poor woman.” Beatrice’s gaze became wistful and distant. “Even still, I seemed to attract my father’s ire the most. He was never happy with me.”

“Because you were stubborn?”

“Because I wasn’t a boy.”

“Sorry?”

Beatrice’s lips curved, but there was no humor lining them. “My father considered it my biggest flaw that I wasn’t born male. The firstborn should be a boy child. I overheard him say that to one of his friends. I couldn’t inherit the Amberlin title, and that was the worst crime.”

Frowning, Luca sat up. “The title Sebastian inherited?”

“Growing up, we called him
the American
, like it was a curse.”

“And you still dislike him, as your father did.”

“I don’t dislike Sebastian. I’m unsure of his motives.” Beatrice lifted her hand from the soapy water and looked at her nails. “Though to be fair, my father disliked my other sisters, too. Especially Titania, I think, because she was the last girl, but I drew most of his censure.”

“But it wasn’t your fault,” Luca protested.

“Logic did not apply to the Earl of Amberlin.” She gave him a flat look. “I dared to be born a girl despite his wishes, and for that I deserved all the misery granted to me. One time, I decided to show him that I was just as good as any boy he’d have had. At our country house, we had an annual hunt, and I dressed up as a boy and competed.”

There was a reason he loved her. He grinned. “And?”

“And I won, of course. I outshot everyone, including my father.” The delighted glint in her eyes hardened. “He never forgave me for that.”

“Perhaps he was afraid of you being hurt.”

She shook her head. “He hated being bested by a girl.”

It was good that Luca had never met the man, because he might have had to have a talk with him—with his fists.

“Are you upset?” Beatrice propped herself up, studying him closely. “You can’t possibly be distressed about my father.”

“Why not?” He cupped her face. “The man had the greatest treasure, and he didn’t care.
That
is what’s criminal. My father would have considered himself to be the richest man on earth if he had had six beautiful, accomplished daughters.”

“Seven,” she correctly softly.

“Seven.” Luca drew her closer, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling her into his lap. Then he held her face in his hands and gazed deep into her eyes so she’d see the truth. “He couldn’t see what he had in front of him, and he punished you for it. The man was a fool.”

She shrugged, her expression shuttered. “He’s gone and, thankfully, never coming back. It no longer matters.”

It seemed like it did still matter. Luca leaned forward and kissed her, wanting to take away the sadness from her youth and replace it with happiness.
Take me
, he urged her mentally.
Let me show you that not all men are ungrateful and blind.

She warmed under his mouth and hands as though the memories melted away. Her body melded to his, and her arms stole around his neck to hold him close.