Luca's Dilemma (13 page)

“I don’t have time for this nonsense, Sheila. Get some stuff together. I’m taking you home. You can get the rest later.” His lips pursed in disgust as his eyes roamed around the small living room. “Luckily for you, there’s not much to take. This old ratty–ass country furniture can stay.”

Sheila looked at him as though he’d just said it was sunny outside. “Have you lost your mind completely?”

Ahmed’s head jerked back as though he’d been slapped. She’d never talked to him like that before and almost snickered when his eyes grew wide as saucers and his mouth fell agape for a full ten seconds. However, the temptation for merriment was very short lived.

“No, that would be you. Now let’s go!”

Grabbing her by the arm, he attempted to force her toward the front door. Sheila dug in her heels protesting loudly while simultaneously fighting with all her strength to break his hold on her. She swung at him. Ahmed caught her arm midflight. Taking advantage of the distraction, she stomped hard–on his foot with her bare heel.

“Oww!” Ahmed shouted, stumbling then righting himself. “You crazy bitch!”

Fire sprang into his eyes, warning Sheila of what was to come next. She hadn’t spent all those years fighting with her brother not to learn a thing or two. Without so much as a flinch, she blocked the foreseen slap with her forearm and delivered a forceful one of her own. The evidence of contact rang sharply in her ears, and a stinging sensation spread rapidly across her palm. She was in pain but was more than ready to deliver another blow. Before she could, Ahmed caught her arm, effectively pinning both of them to her sides.

“What the fuck’s going on in here?”

Ahmed spun around, granting Sheila a dead on view of Luca. Flicking on the overhead light, her landlord stood akimbo, his eyes projecting a darkness Sheila had never seen before. An odd feeling ignited in her belly.

“Let her go,” Luca demanded, his voice serene but lethal.

Ahmed thrust his chin out defiantly. “Make me.”

Before the childishness of Ahmed’s statement fully registered, such said man’s throat was clutched tightly in Luca’s hand, and his arm twisted behind him at an unnatural angle. Sheila had never seen anyone move so fast, especially someone Luca’s size. She stared, mouth agape. If she didn’t act fast, there was little doubt Luca would kill him. She moved closer to the two men, coming up beside them as Luca continued to clench Ahmed to his front. Ahmed’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets, the capillaries swelling with blood.

“Luca, please. He’s a lawyer.”

“Yeah? So’s my sister. I bet she could out lawyer you in a heartbeat,” he said, craning his neck to get a better look at his captive.

Now he decides to be a jokester?
Sheila rolled her eyes heavenward. “Ahmed, just leave before he really hurts you,” she pleaded, hoping Ahmed would be more reasonable, him being on the wrong end of this ass–kickin’ and all.

“I believe that’s no longer his decision to make, babe.”

Frantically, Sheila’s head moved back and forth from the oddly surreal face of one man to the now–ashen appearance of the other. “Luca, you’re killing him. Would you please let him go?” Sheila bit out between clenched teeth, a combination of her distress and irritation bleeding into her voice.

Luca turned a narrowed gaze on her, his full lips drawn together. “Fine!” he stated emphatically before releasing Ahmed, who fell to the floor with a thud.

Ahmed rolled over on his hands and knees, gasping and retching, while Luca towered over him, pouting. Sheila stared back at Luca, incredulous. No one cared to witness Ahmed strangled to death more than she, but there was that whole technicality of legal repercussions to consider. And here was Luca, a grown–ass man, pouting about it.

To her surprise, her nipples hardened, and she suddenly found the whole scene sexy as hell. This gorgeous man wanted to strangle someone on her behalf. Who the frig gets to brag about something like that in their lifetime?

“I believe the lady doesn’t want to go with you,” Luca stated calmly, eyes still locked on Sheila.

His voice showed little indication of what he’d just done, or almost done. That tidbit accompanied by the intensity of his stare was making Sheila wet. For the first time in her vanilla life, she started to suspect she might be a bit of a freak.

Ahmed rose to his feet sluggishly. Bemused, Sheila watched as his eyes widened again when they focused on the two wine glasses and cheese sitting on the coffee table. His face twisted with abhorrence.

“Really, Sheila? A white boy!”

Rage spread through Sheila like a flamethrower, rushing from the depths of her soul. She balled and flexed her trembling hands as the audacity of his words fell upon her. Had he really just said that?

Blinded by her anger, she grabbed the first available weapons within her vicinity. The first wine glass was directed at his head, the action meant to finish what Luca had started. Red liquid and shards of glass penetrated the air as Ahmed ducked low, avoiding the flying projectiles. The miss served to fuel her ire more, spurring her to throw the glass held in her other hand. It too smashed against the wall as her target again managed to dodge the weapon with unnatural dexterity.

“You really
do
think I’m stupid! How dare you judge me when during our entire eight years together I only reached out to you once. Just once! When I told you my boss was up to something, you ignored me. Then when he screwed me over, I called to talk to you about it, not to bother you, but because you were the only one available at the time. For once, I needed a shoulder to cry on. But nooo. The one time I needed you the most you were too busy to come from between your bitch’s legs, oh who just happens to be white, to give
me
the time of day.”

Ahmed bugged his eyes in surprise.

“That’s right, dumbass. I heard you screwing her. I happened to be parked outside the house when I called you. Both your and your assistant’s cars were in the driveway, don’t you dare deny it! My lawyer told me all I need to know about her and the five–year–old, as well as the three–year–old you two have together.” Sheila paused for a moment. She started pacing frantically while the two men looked on. Luca looked downright flabbergasted.

“Now you have the audacity to show up here after trying to sue me for selling my own house! Because I won’t let you continue fucking your whore in it!”

Without warning, she picked up the cheese tray and hurled it at Ahmed with all her might. Once again he managed to avoid being hit. Both men flinched as it bounced off the wall and landed on the floor, wobbling in place before settling on the floor with a loud metallic clatter.

“And to think, I probably would have gone back to your pretentious ass if you’d just given me the time of day the one time I truly needed it. Your chances are up, asshole.” Stiffening her spine, she pulled herself up to her full height, debunking any doubt she had risen up again. “Now kindly get the hell out of this discombobulated cluster–fuck I call my life.”

Ahmed gave her one last long look before turning and storming out her front door. To Sheila’s consternation, he appeared to look more frustrated than guilty, showing no remorse for his actions. That alone confirmed what Sheila had come to suspect; it had always been about the money. She had made the mistake of getting involved with someone who knew about her family’s fortune and her position as an heiress to the Leigh legacy. What a waste of time.

Luca stepped over to the door and locked it, bringing her out of her self–pity party. His forehead rested against the door for what seemed like an eternity, causing Sheila to worry. Finally he turned to face her, a range of emotions playing out in his striking eyes when she reluctantly met his gaze.

Sheila held her breath, almost certain the shift in his manner signified a loss of respect for her being so stupid.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was genuine, instantly putting her at ease.

“Yeah,” she responded in a small voice. “Sorry about the mess… and the scene. I’ll repaint the wall. I promise. I spoiled your birthday.” The feeling was crummy as all get out. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

His eyes softened. “Don’t worry about that.” With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, the wisps that always rested on either side of his forehead springing tenaciously back in place. “Why don’t we get this cleaned up?” he suggested with a slight smile on his lips.

Sheila nodded and smiled back, appreciative of his attempt to lighten the mood. She watched as he settled on his haunches and started picking up the larger pieces of glass, thankful he’d been there. Then she left to retrieve a broom and dustpan from the hall closet. Her heart was still heavy with the events of the evening. But she acknowledged the fact that, given the opportunity to run away, Luca had chosen to lock himself in with her, making himself available when she needed his friendship most.

Chapter 11

“I’m fine, babe. Quit your tormenting, already!”

“No you’re not. If you won’t let me take you to the ER, at least let me put some ice on your hand. It looks like it’s starting to swell.”

Luca conceded and allowed Sheila to guide him from the living room to one of the two kitchen chairs flanking her small bistro table. Even though he was in pain, he couldn’t keep his eyes from falling to that luscious behind of hers as she sauntered toward the fridge to retrieve an ice tray. Her full breasts jiggled like crazy as she emptied the contents into a zip lock bag and then wrapped it in a dishtowel. No way was she wearing a bra. Saliva gathered in his mouth at the thought of feasting on those dark tips again.

But then he vaguely recalled the plan to distance himself from her. Every bit of his engrained training had shouted “run” once the door closed behind Ahmed. However, once he’d reached that same door, he found himself locking it, his conscience in a whirl of turmoil.

“You don’t need to do all that. This isn’t the first time I punched a wall.”

Ignoring him, Sheila placed the makeshift icepack on his swelling knuckles and retreated to the sink to refill the ice trays. After placing them in the freezer, she joined him at the table. Silence encompassed them. Every few minutes she slowly lifted the ice bag and glanced at the area, while simultaneously applying pressure to the cut on the other hand. The skin–to–skin contact began to override the discomfort, and he decided the pain may have been a worthwhile tradeoff.

That was until the earlier events of the night began to seep through his bubble of tranquility. At least now the mystery surrounding Sheila’s breakdown at the pond had been revealed. The thought of it pissed him off all over again. Luca couldn’t help but stare at her, wondering why such a smart, beautiful woman would put up with such bullshit.

“Outside of taking on walls, you strike me as a very intelligent man, Mr. Moriatti. Please stop staring at me as though you are not,” Sheila stated matter–of–factly, not lifting her gaze from his injuries.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t understand?” His gaze remained on her, despite her protest.

“Understand what?” she asked, rising from her chair again. “I think we should wrap that other hand. That cut doesn’t seem to want to stop bleeding. How did you manage to cut it so deep?”

Luca didn’t answer. He couldn’t quite bring himself to admit he’d been watching her naughty parts bounce as she turned to leave the room, wondering why she’d had no problem sharing them with that son–of–a–bitch, Ahmed, but wouldn’t share them with him. Resentment led him to grasp a piece of glass too tightly. In response to his stupidity and pent–up sexual frustration, he’d hauled off and punched the closest wall with his other hand. Never in his life had he done anything so senseless and shrewdly acknowledged he’d temporarily lost all evidence of his assassin’s training. Snapping Ahmed’s neck would have been wiser and far less disconcerting.

He sat quietly musing while Sheila returned to the table with a first aid kit and continued working on his hands, his admiration for her growing by the minute. He half suspected Sheila would’ve come out on top of the scuffle she’d been in with Ahmed. His baby had truly been putting a hurtin’ on the bastard by the time he’d happened upon them. That same feisty woman was now treating him with tenderness and showing legitimate concern for his wellbeing. Out of nowhere, those strong feelings he had for her started to overwhelm him, and he could no longer hold his tongue.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“And what question would that be?” Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she continued devoting her attention to the tending of his wounds. Lifting from her seat yet again, she grabbed a tube of lotion from the window ledge above the sink and seated herself again. She lifted his swollen hand and applied a liberal dollop of the moisturizer to it. “Your hands are dry as hay.” She began working the non–scented substance into his parched skin.

Luca was enjoying the feel of her soft hands massaging his, but he wanted answers. And it was obvious Sheila was avoiding giving them. “Yes, I know they are… thank you. But I asked for clarification. I’m curious to know how a beautiful woman like you got involved with a jerk like that in the first place. But the more pressing question is why you said you would’ve gone back to him after knowing what he’d done to you.” Notwithstanding the panic attack at the fair, Luca had come to perceive her as a strong, independent woman. Why she had allowed that man to do that to her, and for so long, didn’t correlate with the person sitting in front of him.

A look of shame reddened Sheila’s creamy brown cheeks before she gave a meek answer. “We grew up together. Our parents’ are best friends.”

“Is that why you stayed with him… to please your parents?”

Sheila shrugged. “Partly. I’ve already reached that infamous milestone of forty. When you start getting up in age that soul mate stuff just doesn’t seem all it’s cracked up to be. You either take what you can get or choose to be alone. I guess I’ve made my choice.”

Luca was genuinely surprised by her age and her comment. She looked younger. But it was the shadow of loneliness in her voice that didn’t get past him. That horrible feeling was all too familiar. “It may be hard for you to see it now, but, believe me, you did the right thing.”