Italian Billionaire's Unexpected Lover (The Romano Brothers 2)

“Luciana,” Gianpierre interrupted, “are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry—”

“It doesn’t matter. Luciana! Are you alright?” He held her face in both his hands, and even in the dim light Luciana could see the brightness of his blue eyes. “Tell me you’re alright.”

In the distance, Luciana could hear the yells of Gianpierre’s crew, their voices muted as if yelling through a wall. Lost in the rubble,

one of their flashlights blinked but then stabilized.

“I’m alright,” Luciana whispered, giving in to the feel of having Gianpierre’s body on top of hers, his weight on her, as he held her and stared down at her through the murky darkness with an intensity that unnerved her.

Gianpierre’s big thumb stroked her cheek as his eyes continued to search her face. His expression wasn’t one of anger; it was defeat.

Gianpierre’s body shifted, and Luciana failed to stifle the tiniest of moans, filled with desperate want. Then he did the unthinkable. He dipped his head and pressed his warm lips to hers. His crew’s frantic yells could be heard as they fought through the rubble to reach them, but it was as if he didn’t care. The rest of the world didn’t matter. There was only her, and the man whose kiss Luciana had craved to taste since the moment she’d met him ignited a hope in the future she hadn’t realized had gone out.

Wrapping her arms around him, Luciana kissed him back, opening herself to the caress of his tongue. What started out gentle turned into a fervent celebration of life as they lost themselves in each other, and they did not stop until the flow of fresh air reached them as Gianpierre’s crew breached the barrier that stood between them and the rest of the world.

6

Gianpierre

“Why didn’t she give me more time?” Gianpierre said to himself as he hurried through the apartment picking up discarded clothes and tidied stacks of paper. He’d gotten a call from Luciana only minutes ago that she was nearby and on her way over. He didn’t know why he should care what his place looked like when Luciana arrived—after all it was still his place—but he did care. Despite his best efforts to the contrary, the woman mattered to him, and he wanted to make the best impression on her that he could. That she was no one and nothing to him didn’t seem to matter.

As things stood, four days had passed since their kiss and he feared that he’d taken things too far. He needed to know that she didn’t feel taken advantage of. As her employer, he’d had no business kissing Luciana. On top of that, she was still grieving, and her entire financial wellbeing was dependent on him. Too much power over her life was in his hands, and that made for an unfair advantage. He’d seen it more than once, how a man would make a woman dependent on him in order to then bend her to his will through the motivation of desperation. He wanted no part of that way of life or that type of relationship.

“Relationship.” He snorted, amused with himself as he stuffed a large bundle of dirty clothes into the clothes basket. He had no relationship with Luciana. Not now and not ever. Then why did you kiss her?

It wasn’t a question that he got the chance to contemplate before a knock sounded at his door.

“Come!” he called out, not bothering to make the trip to the door. It was unlocked anyway, and besides, this was Luciana’s new home. She simply had not moved in yet—and he had not moved out.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asked, making his way toward the entryway only to stop in his tracks. Luciana was wearing a simple burgundy tunic dress with a wide, wraparound black belt and had her hair pulled into a messy up-do. The dress reached only halfway down her very long, gorgeous thighs, and the belt gave shape to curves that all her other clothes seemed to try to hide.

It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to look this good. She was more beautiful than any runway model he’d ever seen, and he’d dated his share. How was he supposed to stop wanting her when she looked like that?

“I can’t date you,” he blurted.

It was Luciana’s turn to stop in her tracks. She opened her mouth only to close it again without actually saying anything.

Gianpierre walked forward slowly, closing half the distance between them. “I can’t want you. It’s not right.”

Luciana nodded agreement but then asked, “Why would it be wrong?” She licked her lips as if remembering the way his mouth had felt on hers.

“Because I’m leaving for Dubai and you are staying here to raise your niece. Our lives, they’re taking different paths. I don’t know when I’ll be coming back. It won’t be soon. After Dubai, there will always be somewhere else.”

Luciana stepped forward, shortening the distance between them even more. “I don’t want you.”

“That’s not what your lips said when you were kissing me in the tunnels,” Gianpierre countered, taking another step forward. They were within arm’s reach of each other now.

Luciana shrugged. “It was an adrenaline kiss. Fight or flight.”

Gianpierre smiled. “Fight or flight… or kiss?”

It was Luciana’s turn to smile, and she took her time at it. First it was only the corners of her mouth that curled up, but then as they got higher, her entire face transformed when her smile reached her eyes. “Fight or flight… or kiss,” she agreed before shifting her attention to her over-the-shoulder spaghetti strap purse. Opening its flap, she pulled out a measuring tape. “I need to measure Natalia’s bedroom. Her mom… Sophia, she got Natalia a full-sized princess bed about a month before… before she died.” Saying the words seemed to hurt her, but she pressed on. “I’m not sure that the ceiling in her room will be high enough. It’s a four-poster bed that arches up into a dome. It’s very high.” Her brows were pinched and she fiddled with the tape measure as she spoke, clearly worried at the outcome. “There’s no way I can ask her to part with it.”

Gianpierre felt like the most selfish man in the world as he stood before Luciana and the ongoing pain of having lost her sister. Not only was she having to deal with the loss of someone dear to her, she was having to deal with the stress of having to rebuild her life and learn how to be a parent. He could not fathom how strong she must be to choose to raise Natalia here in Sicily, in the place the child knew best, rather than take her back to America where life would surely be easier for Luciana.

“Let us find out,” Gianpierre said, gently taking the measuring tape from her grasp and then carefully taking her by the hand. He knew that he was yet again stepping across boundaries that were better not crossed. He was playing with the heart of a woman with a shattered life. Making her think that there could ever be room for her in his life would not be right, and he needed to add some distance to their growing attraction soon. He could feel her loneliness, and he knew he wanted her. His body craved her with a need so powerful that it hurt. But to give in to his want would cause unforgivable damage. He didn’t want a friend or a partner, and she needed both. She was a woman in a strange land with no support system, and anything he offered her would only get in the way of her building the life she needed. It would be like putting a dissolving bandage on a limb that needed a cast. He would cause her more harm than good.