“My eyes are ordinary blue.”
She turned around to face him, expecting to see him smiling at her. Instead he was gazing at her, a serious expression clouding his eyes.
“Your eyes, Mariella, are anything but ordinary,” he murmured, and before she could catch her breath, he dipped his head and touched her lips with his.
Her fingers gripped his arm as the gentle contact seared through her. His lips were soft as they explored her mouth, undemanding yet beguiling. He pulled away slightly, their breath mingling, waiting. Mari dimly remembered they were standing in the middle of a shop, but the noise faded away to a distant hum as she leaned in the inch and a half to kiss him again. Her eyelids drifted closed and Luca’s free hand cupped her cheek.
The tenderness of it made her want to weep.
She hadn’t realized, hadn’t thought that the absence of affection had left such a huge hole. She hadn’t wanted contact, or tenderness, or even kindness. Hadn’t wanted to make herself vulnerable. She still didn’t. But when Luca touched her this way, kissed her this way, like she was precious, she craved more of it. Like gentle, steady rain after a long drought.
He broke the kiss when a car horn honked outside on the street.
“Luca,” she whispered. She’d come here to keep an eye on his purchases. To make sure he didn’t outspend them again. To make sure she still had a say in the decisions being made.
Only it had backfired. She’d allowed him in and…dear God. She had feelings for him. Alarm thudded through her. She didn’t do feelings! She had to keep things level. Luca wasn’t really interested in her; she wasn’t his type of woman. She knew that. Thank goodness one of them was thinking rationally.
Yet the thought that Luca wasn’t invested in her at all left her crushed with disappointment. How could that be, when it was what she wanted? She didn’t want to be closer to him, did she?
She lifted confused eyes to his.
And was shocked to see her feelings mirrored back at her. He didn’t say anything. But she knew. She knew she hadn’t been alone in being affected by the kiss.
“There you go.” The sales lady held out two bags, smiling like finding them in an embrace was a sweet secret. “The rest of your purchases will be shipped to the hotel.”
Mari felt Luca’s body behind her as she turned, the solid wall of him against her back as he put his arm around her, cradling her against him as he rested his chin atop her head. Mari wanted to beg him, please don’t be so kind. And somehow she heard his unspoken answer: Let me in.
They left the shop and ventured on foot to the next, cradled between two restaurants on the busy main street. As he held the door for her, he murmured, “It’s probably not a good idea, letting that happen again.”
She stepped inside the door, the scent of vanilla and lavender teasing her nose. “No?”
“You’re the manager, and I’m the owner. It wouldn’t be good for appearances.”
Mari nearly laughed. Luca, concerned about appearances? He was the one who wandered through the hotel in jeans instead of business suits. He was the one who asked for picnics and dinners and shunned anything traditional. He was the one who had his picture in magazines with a new woman on his arm every month, it seemed. “If I remember correctly, you kissed me.”
“I believe you kissed me back.”
In the last few days something had broken free in Mari. Instead of backing off she lifted her chin. “That’s hardly the point now, is it.”
“Fiori does have an image to uphold, Mariella.”
Mari goggled.
“Who are you and what have you done with Luca?”
He only offered a tight smile in response. Mari stepped inside the gallery, immediately surrounded by pieces by local artists. She was secretly pleased he wanted to showcase local art.
It was part of what The Cascade should be about. She was beginning to see that. This place was like no other place on earth. It deserved to be showcased as such.
She found some particularly interesting carvings and when she looked up, Luca had moved on. She spied him in a side room, his hands in his pockets as he looked at paintings. She sighed. He was so…something. He was just Luca. He made no apologies for it. The self-assurance was sexy, she realized. He’d been molded and shaped long ago, when his mother had left all of them. Now he knew who he was. She envied that.
When she reached him, he didn’t look at her but simply said, “There are some wonderful pieces here.”
For a moment she wondered about the cost of adding original art to the hotel. But put it aside for once. How could she worry about dollars and cents for her livelihood, when she’d splurged for perfectly selfish reasons today?
“I haven’t been in here before.”
“Don’t you like art?”