Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife (The Harder They Fall, #2)(82)

Eventually, I fell asleep.



I woke to a hand on my bare breast and my back cradled against a hard chest. Luca’s hot breath was on my neck, and in his sleep, his thumb rubbed my beaded nipple.

“You took your shirt off,” he murmured.

Okay, not sleeping.

I opened my eyes, peering down at myself. I was naked except for my underwear.

“Shit. I don’t remember doing that.”

His laugh was gritty and low. “You really hate wearing clothes to bed.”

“Despise it.” I wiggled back to steal some of his heat. “How did we end up in this position?”

“I woke up here.”

“And you didn’t immediately vault out of the bed?”

His teeth nipped my shoulder. “Are you complaining?”

“Just asking. I have no complaints at all.”

We stayed like that, Luca holding me and stroking my breast, me pretty much basking in the contact. He was aroused, and my panties were soaked, but neither of us made a move to take it further.

In a lot of ways, this was as far as we’d ever gone. The intimacy of these quiet moments soaked beneath my skin and embedded in my heart. I wanted this, but I was so afraid to voice it. Luca had been explicit in what this was and wasn’t, and he hadn’t wavered from that.

Was this wavering?

I shut my eyes, closed off my thoughts, and enjoyed the unparalleled bliss of waking in this man’s arms.



Clara showed no signs of going home. This was her third night here, and judging by how clear her eyes had been the last two mornings, she really was resting better in our guest room.

Neither Luca nor I could possibly begrudge her presence. Clementine had taken to her also, curling around her belly when Clara sat down, purring to her little heart’s content.

I slipped between the sheets wearing a black satin nightgown. It was my longest, least embellished gown. But Luca looked at me like I was armed to the teeth.

He was on his back, reading a novel. I’d learned Luca preferred science fiction. But he rested it on his chest to look at me.

“Hey, you,” I said softly.

With a sigh, he knocked his book to the floor and opened his arms. “Come here.”

Without a single beat of hesitation, I threw myself onto him. My leg draped over his, arm curled around his bare middle, my head snuggled on his shoulder. Locking his hand on my hip, he dragged me a little closer.

Neither of us said a word about what we were doing. It was like we both knew if we did, it would break the spell. We would have remembered why this was off-limits.

I wasn’t going to be the one to replace the space between us. Luca would have to kick me across the mattress to be rid of me.

“I’m worried about Clara.”

His sudden speech startled me. “About her pregnancy?”

“Not so much that. She’s handling the physical stuff pretty well. A while ago, she came to me and told me something was off with Miller. She’d asked him if he was cheating, which he denied.”

I shuddered. “I can’t picture Clara sleeping with Miller, let alone anyone else.”

His grip tightened. “Please don’t try. I’m already horrified when I think about how she got knocked up.”

That made me laugh a little. “Has she said anything else lately?”

“No, and that’s why I’m worried. Every time I’ve tried to broach the subject, she shuts me down. I was hoping things were better. Hell, I even hired a PI who’d found nothing on him. But she’s here.”

“And he’s not,” I filled in.

“Yeah.” His chest rose when he sucked in a deep breath. “I’m at a fucking loss. If she doesn’t open up to me, how do I help her?”

I raised my head, looking at his worried face. “Give her space and support. Let her stay here without questioning why. It’s not so bad having her here, is it?”

The anger in his gaze ebbed as his eyes flowed over me. He reached up and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, then dragged his knuckles along my jaw.

I didn’t breathe as he touched me with a gentleness that was foreign and reverent.

“It’s not so bad, right?” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t bad at all.”

He cupped my crown, drawing me down to him. Our lips met in a tentative caress. Testing the waters. Taking a sip, then another.

But I was so thirsty for Luca that one sip or a hundred would never be enough.

At first, all we did was kiss and kiss and kiss. Slow and soft. Deep and searching. Fingers in hair. My hand over his heart. His holding me tight against him.

We were careful with one another in a way we had never been. I was achy, like I had the flu. My need for Luca’s touch had seeped into my bones. Each slide of his hand over my silky nightgown soothed.

But it was when he shifted us so his chest was on top of mine that I melted and tension flowed out of me in ragged rivers.

Words weren’t spoken. There was no discussion when he slipped my nightgown off and lowered his sleep pants. Our heated skin melded like it was always meant to be touching.

Luca didn’t command me. I didn’t sass him. This was different than all the other times, yet exactly the same. His body knew mine. We were drawn to each other in a way I’d never been drawn to anyone else. Even as we broke the rules in Luca’s quiet, dimly lit bedroom, that hadn’t changed. He held my strings, and I danced for him, though it was a languid, sultry pas de deux instead of the usual fiery tango.