Harlequin Presents January 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Sheikh's Desert Duty\Nine Months to Redeem Him\Fonseca's Fury\The Russian's Ultimatum (47 page)

In one instant it was decimated, and Serena soared high on a wave of bliss that was spectacular. The definition of an orgasm being a
petit mort
, a small death, had never felt so apt. She knew that a part of her had just died and something else incredibly fragile and nebulous was taking its place.

She floated back down to reality, aware of her body milking Luca's own release as he shuddered and buried his head in her shoulder, his body embedded deep within hers. Her legs wrapped around him, and the pulsations of their mutual climaxes took long minutes to die away.

* * *

Luca was in the kitchen the following morning, making breakfast, before he realised that he'd never in his life made breakfast for a lover. In general he liked being in a situation where he could extricate himself rather than have to deal with the aftermath and unwelcome romantic projections.

But here he was, cooking breakfast for Serena without half a second's hesitation or any desire to put as much space between them as possible. His head was still fuzzy from an overload of sensual pleasure and the revelations she'd made.

He couldn't help thinking of her: a little girl, traumatised by the violent death of her mother, with a sadistic and mercurial father who tried to discredit her as soon as he could. Somehow it wasn't that fantastical to believe her father capable of such things.

He thought back to that night when he'd watched Siena come to bail Serena out of jail. The way she had tended to Serena like a mother to her cub...the way Serena had leant on her as if it was a familiar pattern. Both had been manipulated by their father's machinations. Both had been acting out their parts. The good girl and the bad girl.

It all made a sick kind of sense now, because Luca knew he hadn't imagined the vulnerability he'd sensed about her that night he'd first met her...

A sound from behind him made him tense and he turned around to see Serena, tousle-haired and dressed in the robe, standing in the doorway. She looked hesitant, shy, and Luca was falling, losing his grip. Everything he thought he'd known about her...
wasn't
.

His hands gripped the bowl he was using to whisk eggs. ‘Hungry?'

‘Starving.'

Serena's voice was husky, and it fired up Luca's blood, reminding him of how she'd shouted out his name in the throes of passion just short hours before. How she'd begged and pleaded with him. How she'd felt around him.

Deus
.

* * *

Serena came into the kitchen feeling ridiculously shy. Luca looked stern, intense.

‘I didn't know you cooked.'

Luca grimaced in a half-smile, some of the intensity in his expression diminishing slightly as he continued whisking. ‘I don't...I have a very limited repertoire and scrambled eggs is about as haute cuisine as it gets.'

Serena sat up on a stool by the island and tried not to let herself melt too much at seeing Luca in such a domestic setting in worn jeans and a T-shirt, his hair mussed up and a dark growth of stubble on his jaw.

‘Where did you learn?'

He was taking thin strips of bacon now, and placing them under a hot grill. He didn't look at her. ‘When my mother left, my father let the housekeeper go; he always felt it was an unnecessary expense.'

Serena felt indignation rise. ‘But how did you cope? Did your father cook?'

Luca shook his head. ‘I was at boarding school outside Rio for most of the time, so it was only the holidays when I had to fend for myself.' His mouth twisted. ‘One of my father's many mistresses took pity on me when she found me eating dry cereal. She taught me some basics. I liked her—she was one of the nicer ones—but she left.'

More sharply than she'd intended, Serena said, ‘She wasn't the one who seduced you?'

Luca looked at her, a small smile playing around his hard mouth. ‘No.'

Embarrassed by the surge of jealousy, Serena said, ‘Your father never married again?'

‘No.'

Luca poured some delicious-smelling coffee out of a pot into big mugs, handing her one. Serena bent her head to smell deeply.

‘He learnt his lesson after my mother walked away with a small fortune. She'd come from money in Italy, but by then it was almost all gone.'

Serena thought of his parents not even caring which boy went with who and felt sad. She remarked almost to herself, ‘I can't imagine how I would have coped if Siena and I had been separated.'

Luca put a plate full of fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon in front of Serena. He looked at her as he settled on his own stool. ‘You're close, aren't you?'

Serena nodded, emotional for a second at the thought of her sister and her family. ‘Yes, she saved me.'

Luca's gaze sharpened. ‘It sounds to me like you saved yourself, as soon as you could.'

Serena shrugged minutely, embarrassed again under Luca's regard. ‘I guess I did.' She swallowed some of the delicious food and asked curiously, ‘Is your twin brother like you? Determined to right the wrongs of the world?'

Luca sighed heavily. ‘Max is...complicated. He resented me for a long time because my father insisted on leaving everything to me—even though I tried to give him half when our father died. He was too proud to take it.'

Serena shook her head in disbelief, and was more than touched to know that Luca had been generous enough to do that.

‘He had a tougher time than me—our mother was completely unstable, lurching from rich man to rich man in a bid to feather her nest, and in and out of rehab. Max went from being enrolled in an exclusive Swiss boarding school to living on the streets in Rome...'

Serena's eyes widened.

‘He pulled himself out of the gutter with little or no help; he wouldn't accept any from me and he certainly wouldn't take it from my father. It was only years later, when he'd made his first million, that we could meet on common ground.'

Serena put down her knife and fork. Luca had shown signs of such intransigence and an inability to forgive when she'd first come to Rio, but now she was seeing far deeper into the man and realising he'd had just as much of a complicated background as she had in many respects. And yet he'd emerged without being tainted by the corruption of his father, or by the vagaries of his mother—vagaries that she understood far too well.

For the first time Serena had to concede that perhaps she hadn't done too badly, considering how easy it would have been to insist on living in a fog, not dealing with reality.

Luca was looking at her with an eyebrow raised. He was waiting for an answer to a question she hadn't heard. She blushed. ‘Sorry. I was a million miles away.'

‘You said when you first got here that you wanted to see Rio?'

Serena nodded, not sure where this was going or what might happen after last night.

‘Well...'

Luca was exhibiting a tiny glimmer of a lack of his usual arrogance and it set Serena's heart beating fast.

‘It's the weekend. I'd like to show you Rio.'

The bottom seemed to drop out of Serena's stomach. She felt ridiculously shy again. Something bubbled up inside her—lightness.
Happiness
. It was alien enough to take her by surprise.

‘Okay, I'd like that.'

CHAPTER TEN

‘H
AD
ENOUGH
YET
?'

Serena mumbled something indistinct. This was paradise. Lying on Ipanema Beach as the fading rays of the sun baked her skin and body in delicious heat. There was a low hum of conversation from nearby, the beautiful sing-song cadence of Portuguese, people were laughing, sighing, talking. The surf of the sea was crashing against the shore.

And then she felt Luca's mouth on hers and her whole body orientated itself towards his. She opened her eyes with an effort to find him looking down at her. Her heart flip-flopped. She smiled.

‘Can we stay for the sunset?'

Luca was trying to hang on to some semblance of normality when the day that had just passed had veered out of
normal
for him on so many levels it was scary.

‘Sure,' he said, with an easiness belying his trepidation. Serena's open smile was doing little to restore any sense of equilibrium.

One day spent walking around Rio and then a couple of hours on the beach was all it had taken to touch her skin with a luminous golden glow. Her hair looked blonder, almost white, her blue eyes were standing out even more starkly.

That morning they had taken the train up through the forest to the Cristo Redentor on Corcovado and Serena had been captivated by every tiny thing. Standing at the railing, looking down over the breathtaking panorama of Rio, she'd turned to him and asked, with a look of gleaming excitement that had reminded him of a child, ‘Can we go to the beach later?'

Luca's insides had tightened ominously. She didn't want to go shopping. She wanted to see Rio. Genuinely.

Before they'd hit the beach they'd eaten lunch at a favourite café of Luca's. At one point he'd sat back and asked, with an increasing sense of defeat, ‘Your family really aren't funding you...are they?'

Immediate affront had lit up those piercing eyes. Luca wouldn't have believed it before. But he did now, and it had made something feel dark and heavy inside him.

‘Of course not.' She'd flushed then, guiltily, and admitted with clear reluctance, ‘My sister and her husband paid for an apartment for me in Athens...when I was ready to move on. But I'm going to pay them back as soon as I've made enough money.'

Darkness had twisted inside Luca. People got hand-outs all the time from family, yet she clearly hated to admit it. And this was a woman who had had everything...a vast fortune to inherit...only to lose it all.

She'd flushed self-consciously when she'd caught him looking at her cleared plate of
feijoãda
, a famous Brazilian stew made with black beans and pork. ‘My sister is the same. It's a reaction to the tiny portions of food we were allowed to eat by our father, growing up.'

Her revelation had hit him hard again. The sheer abuse her father had subjected her to. Anger still simmered in his belly. Luca had felt compelled to reach out and take her hand, entwining his fingers with hers—something that had felt far too easy and necessary.

‘Believe me, it's refreshing to see a woman enjoy her food.'

Her hand had tensed in his and she'd said, far too lightly, while avoiding his eyes, ‘I'm sure the women you know are far more restrained.'

Was she jealous? The suspicion had caught at Luca somewhere deeply masculine. And that deeply masculine part of him had been triggered again when he'd insisted on buying her a bikini so she could swim at the beach, as they hadn't been prepared.

He took her in now, as she lay beside him, the three tiny black triangles doing little to help keep his libido in check. He was just glad that the board shorts he'd bought to swim in were roomy enough to disguise his rampant response.

As if aware of his scrutiny Serena fidgeted, trying to pull the bikini over her breasts more—which only made some of the voluptuous flesh swell out at the other side.

Luca bit back a groan.

She'd hissed at him in the shop, ‘I'm not wearing that—it's indecent!'

Luca had drawled wryly, ‘Believe me, when you see what most women wear on the beaches here you'll feel overdressed.'

And when they'd hit the sand Serena's reaction had been priceless. Mouth open, eyes popping out of her head, she'd watched the undeniably sensual parade of beautiful bodies up and down the beach.

Luca hadn't been unaware of the blatant interest her pale blonde beauty had attracted, and had stared down numerous men.

The sun was setting now, and people were starting to cheer and clap as it spread out in a red ball of fire over the horizon, just to the left of one of Rio's craggy peaks.

Serena sat up and drew her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She smiled at Luca, before taking in the stunning sunset and clapping herself. ‘I love how they do that.'

Her pleasure in something so simple mocked his deeply rooted cynicism. And then Luca realised then that he was enjoying this too, but it had been a long time since he'd taken the time to appreciate it. Even when he'd been younger he'd been so driven to try and counteract his father's corrupt legacy that he'd rarely taken any time out for himself. He'd fallen into a pattern of choosing willing women who were happy with no-strings-attached sex to alleviate any frustration.

He'd never relaxed like this in a typical
carioca
way, with a beautiful woman.

The sun had set and she looked at him now, and all he could see was the damp golden hair trailing over her shoulders, close to the full thrust of her breasts. Her mouth, like a crushed rose petal, was begging to be tasted. And those wide eyes were looking at him with a wariness that only fired his libido even more.

He said roughly, ‘Let's get out of here.'

Serena couldn't mistake the carnal intent in Luca's eyes. He'd been looking at her all day as if he'd never seen her before. And today...today had been like a dream.

Her skin felt tight from the sun and sea, and she didn't know if it was just Luca's unique effect on her, or the result of watching the Rio natives embrace their sensuality and sexuality all afternoon, but right now she trembled with the sexual need that pulsed through her very core and blood.

‘Yes,' she said.

She stood up, and Luca stood too, handing her the sundress she'd put on that morning.

They walked the short distance back to Luca's car and when he took her hand in his, Serena's fingers tightened around his reflexively. He wore an open shirt over his chest, still in his shorts, and her heart clenched because he looked so much younger and more carefree than the stern, intimidating man she'd met again the day she'd arrived in Rio.

When they began winding up through the hills, away from the beaches, Serena asked, ‘Where is this?'

Luca glanced at her. ‘We're going to my home in Alto Gavea. It's closer.'

Serena's heart beat fast.
His home
.

The rest of the drive was in silence, as if words were superfluous and might not even penetrate the thick sensual tension between them.

This part of Rio was encased in forest, reminding Serena of the rainforest with a sharp poignancy. And Luca's home took her breath away when he turned in to a long secluded drive behind fortified gates.

It was an old colonial house, two-storey, white, with terracotta slates on the roof, and it was set, literally, in the middle of the lush Tijuca Forest.

He pulled the car to a stop and looked at her for a long moment. They were suspended in time, with no sounds except for the calls of some birds.

Then he broke the spell and got out of the car, helping Serena out of the low-slung seat. She let out a small squeal of surprise when he scooped her up into his arms and navigated opening the front door with commendable dexterity.

He took the stairs two at a time and strode into a massive bedroom. Serena only had time to take in an impression of a house that was cool and understated. In his room, the open shutters framed a view showcasing the illuminated Christ the Redeemer statue in the far distance on its hill overlooking Rio.

Everything became a little dream-like after that, and Serena knew that on some level she was shying away from analysing the significance of the day that had passed.

Luca put her down, only to disappear into a bathroom, where she heard the sound of a shower running. When he emerged he was taking off his clothes until he stood before her naked, unashamedly masculine and proud.

‘Come here.'

She obeyed without question. When she stood before him he reached down for the hem of her dress and pulled it up and off. Then he turned her around and undid her flimsy bikini top so that it fell to the floor.

He turned her back and hooked his fingers into the bottoms, and pulled them down until she could step out of them at her feet. In that moment, naked, she'd never felt more womanly or more whole. Or more free of the shadows that had dogged her for as long as she could remember. They weren't gone completely, but it was enough for now.

He took her hand and led her into the bathroom, which was fogged with steam that curled over their sticky, sandy bodies. Standing under the hot spray, Serena lifted her face and Luca covered her mouth with his, his huge body making the space tiny.

When he took his mouth off hers she opened her eyes to see his hot gaze devouring her. And just like that she was ready, her body ripening and moistening for him, ravenous at the sight of Luca's gleaming wet and aroused body. He lifted her and instructed her to put her legs around him—then groaned and stopped.

She looked at him, breathless with anticipation. ‘What's wrong?'

‘No protection,
preciosa
. We need to move.'

Serena was dazed as he carried her out of the shower, her legs still wrapped around his waist. She could see the pain on his face at the interruption but she was glad... She'd been too far gone to think about protection herself.

He put her down on the bed and reached for a condom from his cabinet, ripping the foil and sheathing himself with big, capable hands. Serena felt completely wanton as she watched this display of masculine virility.

And then he was coming back down over her, pushing her legs apart, settling between them, asking huskily, ‘Okay?'

She nodded, her chest tightening ominously, and then Luca was thrusting in so deep her back arched and her legs went around his waist. It was fast and furious, his gaze holding hers, not letting her look away.

Bliss broke over her after mere minutes. She was so primed—as if now it was the easiest thing in the world and not something that had been torturously elusive when they'd first made love.

Serena bit into Luca's shoulder as powerful spasms racked her body just as he reached his own climax, his body thrusting rhythmically against hers until he was spent. He collapsed over her and she tightened her arms and legs around him, loving the feel of him pressing her into the bed, his body still big inside hers.

Eventually he withdrew, and Serena winced as her muscles protested. Luca collapsed on his back beside her, his breathing as uneven as hers. She looked at him to find him watching her with a small enigmatic smile playing around his mouth.

He came up on one arm and touched his fingers to her jaw. ‘You make me lose my mind every time...' he admitted gruffly.

Serena looked at him. Somehow his confession wasn't as comforting as she'd thought it might be. It left her with a definite sense that Luca did not welcome such a revelation.

And then he was kissing her again, wiping everything from her mind, and she welcomed it weakly. She was far too afraid to face the suspicion that she had fallen in love with this man and there was no going back.

Three days later

‘Miss DePiero? Senhor Fonseca said to let you know that he's been unavoidably detained and you should eat without him.'

‘Okay, thank you.' Serena put down the kitchen phone extension and looked at the chicken stew she'd made, bubbling on the state-of-the-art cooker.
Unavoidably detained
. What was that code for?

Crazy to feel so disappointed, but she did. She'd spent her lunch hour buying ingredients, and as soon as she'd finished work at the charity office she'd rushed back to start cooking.

And now she felt ridiculous—because wasn't this such a cliché? The little woman at home, cooking dinner for her man and getting all bent out of shape because it was spoiled?

Mortified at the thought of what Luca's reaction would have been to see this attempt at creating some kind of domestic idyll, and losing any appetite herself, Serena took the chicken stew off the cooker. When it had cooled sufficiently she resisted the urge to throw it away and put it into a bowl to store in the fridge.

Feeling antsy, she headed outside to the terrace. The stunning view soothed her in a way that Athens had never done, even though she now called it home.

‘Maledire,'
she cursed softly in Italian. And then she cursed Luca, for making her fall for him.

The weekend had been...
amazing
. She remembered Luca kissing the tattoo on her shoulder. He'd murmured to her, ‘You know the swallow represents resurrection?'

Serena had nodded her head, feeling absurdly emotional that he
got it
.

When they'd woken late on Sunday Luca had told her that he had to visit a local
favela
and she'd asked to go with him. She had seen first-hand his commitment to his own city. The amazing Fonseca Community Centre that provided literacy classes, language classes, business classes and a crèche so that everyone in the community could learn.

When she'd gone wandering, left alone briefly, she'd found Luca in the middle of a ring of men, doing
capoeira
, a Brazilian form of martial arts. He'd been stripped to the waist, his torso gleaming with exertion, making graceful and unbelievably agile movements to the beat of a drum played by a young boy.