Not Juliet (4 page)

Luca stopped
the bike beneath a eucalyptus tree, then pulled her into his arms.
He swung through a wall of shrubs in flower to emerge at the top of
a beautiful landscaped garden with neatly trimmed lawns, paths
bordered by statues and archways everywhere. The fresh fragrance of
mimosa enticed the senses, and the panorama was breathtaking. She
could see the whole of Florence from up there.

“Wow! This is
beautiful. What gardens are these?”

“Bardini. A
little-known secret of Tuscany.”

“I feel as if
I’m standing on top of the world.”

“We are on top
of the world. On one of them. There are many others I must show
you. Please say you’ll come. I’d love to show you the vineyards at
twilight, and the Milky Way from the coast. The stars light up the
sky like a million billion fireflies, right above Elba.”

“That sounds
amazing…”

“It would be
incredible with you by my side.”

Luca’s gaze
dipped to Riella’s lips. Never looking away, he walked slowly with
her in his arms to a bench beneath a wisteria archway. Instead of
placing her on the seat beside him, he sat down and held her on his
lap. One of his hands pressed on her back, fingers splayed,
bringing her closer; the other moved to stroke her cheek. With one
finger, he pulled her chin up, closer to his face. His eyes
flickered to her eyes – just checking she was willing – and in the
next breath his lips touched Riella’s.

A thousand
fireworks broke all over her skin, lighting fires everywhere. His
caress was sweet, yet firm, and he took ownership of her lips with
such effortless skill, she welcomed his every move and responded
instinctively. He nibbled lightly at her lower lip and she latched
on to his upper lip, sucking it gently.

Riella used the
grip on the back of his neck as leverage to pull herself closer to
him, then molded her body to his and melted into his kiss.

Luca groaned
low in his throat, and threaded the fingers of one hand through her
hair, angling her head so he could deepen the kiss. The gesture was
so loaded with passion, Riella thought she might combust.

She opened her
eyes, gazing at his face, his eyes closed in lust, desire for her
making itself obvious not only on his face. Riella smiled through
the kiss and Luca’s lids lifted grudgingly, dreamily, to look at
her. All she could see when she looked into his eyes was
perfection. All she could think of was the silly three-word refrain
she never thought she’d say and mean it, not in that
all-encompassing way, and definitely not so soon; the words were
burning on her lips now, demanding to be spoken out loud. All she
could feel was gratitude that he had been created.

Luca sighed,
then suddenly jumped, his back straightening as if someone had
pulled taut a rope tied to his neck, straight up.

“Ah.”

“What is it?”
Before the words were fully out of Riella’s mouth, a soft thump
sounded behind them and Luca jerked again. A second thump followed
the first.

“Our
ice-cream!” He twisted in his seat to point at the two tubs on the
ground, now distorted by the fall and leaking. Riella started
giggling. “Don’t laugh! To Italians, gelato is serious business.”
Riella laughed harder. “It was Grom’s!” he said, as if that was
supposed to explain everything. “They make the best flavors! I
can’t believe we’re wasting such treasure!”

“Ha, ha, ha,
ha, ha.” Riella let go of Luca and grabbed her stomach. She was
laughing so hard, she barely got the chance to draw breath.

“Fine!” she
heard. Next she knew, a cold blob of cream hit her square on the
chest. Right away, it loosened and leaked down her cleavage.

“Aaah!” she
squealed and clawed at her t-shirt. She stared at the chocolate
spot spreading out from beneath the pink cotton, huffed, and bent
over the bench, hanging onto his shoulder with one hand, to grab
the second ice-cream carton.

“Don’t you
dare!”

She ignored his
comment, flicked the lid off and scooped a little melted ice-cream
out, using two fingers. At the same time, Luca grasped her wrist,
trying to save himself, but the jerky motion launched the ice-cream
into the air. It landed on his left cheek, where from it began a
slow and messy journey south.

Riella
screeched in delight and plunged her fingers back into the tub.

“That’ll teach
me to play with fire, I guess,” Luca muttered and pressed his face
into her neck, making her scream when the squashy cold paste
touched her skin. She laughed and wriggled on his lap.

“Stay still,
woman, so I can lick it off.”

She stilled,
the onslaught of sensations from the cold ice-cream and his hot
tongue and lips licking and nibbling at her neck making her lose
all conscious thought. The half-empty ice-cream tub fell from her
hand, bouncing against her scraped knee before hitting the floor,
and her fingers, ice-cream and all, laced themselves through Luca’s
dark hair, holding his head in place.

A gentle breeze
played through the shimmering greenery above, ruffling her hair.
Caught in the moment, Riella brought her lips to his ear and
whispered, “I love you, Luca.”

“I love you, Luca,” she
said, and the words took their time percolating through his addled
brain, then stuck and echoed there, repeating themselves until he
felt he had no more air to breathe.

He forced his
lips to break contact with her skin and pulled her face to his
chest, holding her there.

What had he
done? What the hell was going on in his mind?

Out of sight,
chin resting on her sweet-smelling caramel soft curls, Luca allowed
his eyes free rein to do what they will. Right now, they felt wild
and huge with stress. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

It all started
simply enough. The English king’s daughter had travelled to Rome,
demanding to see his father. Luca had an idea why – rumors of a
possible coup to overthrow Goliath Petulengro’s rule had reached
him weeks before. What he couldn’t understand was why she’d come
here, of all places. The challenger was a Lithuanian gang master
well known in his circles. What was she doing, asking around the
campsite in Rome? Did she believe the contender had anything to do
with his people? Or was she perhaps looking for an ally?

She must have
been sorely misinformed. Strange, for the daughter of a king. The
girl didn’t even seem to know Cosimo Anziano had stepped down the
year before, leaving his son, Luca, in charge of the Romanies in
Italy. And Luca had done nothing to keep that a secret. In fact,
he’d done all he could to strengthen his control, and a huge part
of being in control was letting people know who their leader
was.

For a week he’d
watched her from afar, trying to work her and her purpose out,
worried she may have an ulterior motive for seeking out his elderly
father. Not that she’d ever get to him. Cosimo was safe, spending
the last few years of his existence fishing and tending his
grapevines, away from the day-to-day hassles of running a kingdom,
but still close enough to provide a piece of advice or information,
should Luca feel the need to ask.

He’d watched
the rogue arrive the day after her own arrival, and lost track of
him for a day or two. Then today, when he least expected it, the
man had pointed his gun at Riella. Why? The challenger was after
the king. Why kill his daughter, too?

His hand moved
to stroke her hair, a gesture he hadn’t been aware of consciously
initiating. Still, now that his fingers were laced through her
tresses, Luca felt he needed more. His lips dropped to her hair and
placed soft kisses all over it, then met her ear and kissed around
the helix to the lobe, paused there for a second, nibbling on it
gently, then traveled lower, to her jaw line, skirted her chin, and
captured her lips again.

Whoever she was
and whatever her purpose, Riella Smith was intoxicating. Like an
instantly addicting drug, she’d made it into his bloodstream and
the scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her were jumbling
his thoughts and turning his world order upside-down.

With his arms
wrapped around her, it was hard to believe such soft creature would
ever be capable of harming anyone, of inflicting pain. If she was
capable of showing her father half the love she’d showed him since
the incident in the Signoria, then Riella was nothing but good. A
loving daughter, a perfect lover, no doubt, a doting mother…

Whoa! Stop
right there! Where did that thought come from?

His brain
needed a cold shower. No, his body needed a cold shower. His brain
and his body, both.

Right there and
then, Luca decided he wanted to keep Riella in his life. He needed
to get to know her better, by whatever means necessary. But first,
he needed to make sure she was safe. Whatever the quarrel was, it
was with her father. She had nothing to do with it, and he was
going to make damn sure every single one of his people knew it.
Tonight. He was going to stay in Rome tonight, in camp, and make
his orders clear.

In the
meantime, and in the absence of a cold shower, he’d make do with
what was at his disposal, a very-much-second best. He hopped up
with Riella in his arms, making her squeal.

“Where are we
going now?”

“To wash off
this ice-cream, or you won’t make it home tonight. Not the way I
feel about you.”

With strong,
long strides, Luca marched straight to the Dragon Canal. The water
was only knee-deep, but it would have to do. It was cold. That was
the main point. Hopefully, there would be no guards around. If they
were quick, they could be in and out in ten minutes flat.

Countless kisses and
several hours later, Luca glanced down at Riella and sighed. She
sighed too, looking blissfully content. They were stretched out on
the grass, in a more secluded corner of the garden. The view of
Florence wasn’t as good, but Luca wasn’t interested in staring at
Florence. Oh, no! He was mourning the fact that the keen sun rays
had dried up Riella’s t-shirt. Now he could only catch sight of the
perfect mounds of her breasts and her puckered nipples if the
breeze cooperated.

As soon as he’d
hit the water with her in his arms, Riella’s body responded to the
cold the way he should have predicted, but hadn’t. For a moment,
the cold water had actually helped, but once she’d tired of
splashing him and he managed to grab hold of her again, pulling her
close to his chest, her trembling body had jacked up his torment
even higher. The sensation of her rucked-up nipples poking him
through the thin cloth between them woke up his big boy downstairs
and it was all he could do to hold his body in an unnatural
position, bottom thrust back like a pained hyena, to prevent an
unwelcome nudge she would likely take the wrong way.

They’d dried
up, mostly, lounging on the grass, but if anything, Luca’s torture
had intensified. He’d flattened his stomach, hugging the ground,
for as long as he could, but even in that position he had a perfect
side view of cold wet cloth stretched over well-defined breasts
with perky pebbles on top…

Luca groaned
and turned over to the side, propped up on his elbow. Riella wore a
relaxed expression on her face, a small smile playing on her lips.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and deep.

“You falling
asleep?” Luca asked softly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the
moment.

Riella smiled
wider and lifted a hand to pull his lips to hers. This kiss was
even better than the one before, which had been better than the one
before that. How was that even possible?

Luca gazed at
her, adulation in his eyes, then caught a loose strand of her hair
and wound it around his finger.

“You are so
beautiful,” he said. He dipped his head for another soft kiss. “I
can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Riella giggled.
“I feel like I’m the lucky one to have found you.”

“Ah, but you
didn’t. I did the finding.”

“You did? I
didn’t know I had a stalker,” she said, eyes wide and serious.

Luca’s smile
disappeared and Riella laughed out loud. “Joking!” she said,
slapping him on the shoulder.

Luca breathed
out and pulled a mock hurt expression on his face. “If I’ve
offended you with my excessive attention…” He left the sentence
unfinished.

“You’re saying
you’d just… what? Leave me alone?”

“Not a chance!”
His lips captured hers possessively, taking, stealing, conquering
her every sense. When she could hardly breathe, he pulled an inch
away and whispered, “I’m saying ‘too bad’. You’re everything I ever
dreamed of, so there’s no getting away now. It’s too late.”

“Fine by me,”
she said, her eyes soft, fingers stroking the hair behind his
ear.

The sensation
was so rousing, Luca felt an involuntary shiver tickle its way over
the back of his neck and down his spine. Riella caught the tremor
and smiled widely, then her eyes skipped to the sky and her smile
faltered. The day was coming to an end.

Dusk was
turning the beautiful detail of the scenery into a pink-hued wash
of color. Over Florence, colorful lights were shimmering here and
there, making the town look like a magical kingdom. A fairytale, so
far removed from reality.

Riella snuggled
into Luca’s neck, and he angled his face down so he could place a
gentle kiss to her forehead.

“It’s time to
go…” Riella whispered.

“Doesn’t have
to be.”

She giggled.
“You don’t really expect me to camp out under the stars, here, in
the gardens!”

“I’d keep you
warm. But no, that’s not what I meant. I want you in my life. Stay
with me. Please. Will you consider it?”

Would she let
him stay close to her? He could protect her, and at the same time
find out what it was she was hoping to get, speaking to his father.
If she was looking for an ally, he could give her that, and more.
He could so easily see himself spending the rest of his life
alongside her. If she was looking for revenge… then, maybe he could
change her mind, show her the truth before it was too late.