Luca
DRESSED IN A sharp black suit, my shoes gleaming in the soft light, I’d just finished straightening my cuff links when the door opened and Katherine emerged. I’d been waiting for her to finish her hair and makeup, which had given me time to assemble her wardrobe choices for the night.
Fluffy white towel wrapped around her, Katherine stared, her mouth dropping at the glittering diamond accessories that accompanied each outfit choice. I wanted to ensure she had the pick of whatever style she wanted, so I’d had my assistant send samples from every designer in the city and had those matched with appropriately decadent jewelry choices.
Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls, sapphires...it was an assortment of breathtaking jewels fit for a queen. The Donato name carried enough clout that I was able to get the gems on loan for the evening, likely because the jeweler hoped I would purchase at least one of the offered beauties by morning.
Katherine stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at the selections. “Are you insane? Where are we going to dinner, the Taj Mahal?”
“You’d be surprised how difficult it is to get reservations,” I quipped with a small smile. She glanced up in question, her brow furrowed. “I wanted to ensure that wherever we went, you were the brightest diamond in the room.”
She flushed and bit her lip, reluctantly flattered. “But, Luca... I...I don’t know what to say except I can’t wear any of this...” she said, even as her eyes were drawn to the brilliant sapphire drop pendant that was my personal favorite. She would look stunning in the blue dress with that pendant around her neck.
“Why not?” I asked.
“This is all too much.”
“They’re loaners for now, and I promise you don’t have to accept any gifts you don’t want. You like the sapphire?”
Her gaze returned to the gem, blinking as she swallowed. “Yes, but...”
“Then you shall wear it,” I said, moving to clasp the pendant for her. It hung like a blue teardrop just above her cleavage, a promise of pleasure to come. I hardened instantly at the thought of Katherine wearing the sapphire and nothing else. My fingers itched to relieve her of the towel, but I refrained. Instead, I said, “And the dress? What do you think?”
She dragged her gaze away from the pendant, looking toward the dress. All she could do was nod, finally admitting, “It’s gorgeous, too.”
“Excellent.” I felt the tension lift from my shoulders. “Do you need help slipping it on?” Please say yes, I practically begged with my eyes, but she carefully scooped up the dress and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I chuckled and rubbed the sudden damp from my forehead. If she liked the blue dress, wait until she saw what I had planned for dessert...
When Katherine emerged from the bathroom moments later, the deep blue of the dress clinging to her curves like a second skin, the sapphire pendant winking from her throat, I nearly buckled in an embarrassing display of total weakness.
I’d never met another woman who made me feel the way Katherine did. I was old enough to realize I never would.
With her hair swept up into a messy bun and a little makeup on, she was perfect. Katherine had a natural beauty that most women would kill for.
Frankly, I thought she was gorgeous from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, bedhead and all, but now was not the time to share that sentiment. She was too skittish yet to hear anything so raw. When she’d been ready to hear it, I hadn’t been ready to share, and now we were playing on opposite sides of the field. I suppose I was to blame, but a Donato didn’t look backward. Push forward to victory.
Unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I offered a sincere compliment, saying, “Stunning. I’m glad you chose the blue.”
She blushed, and her fingers found the pendant. “As long as I don’t get robbed at gunpoint later,” she joked. “It’s like wearing a giant target on my chest.”
“You’ll be perfectly safe,” I assured her, crooking my arm for her to slip her hand into. We left the room and got into the elevator. In truth, I would tear apart with my bare hands anyone who dared to hurt Katherine. Did that threat extend to my own family? My father was a stubborn bully, but would he actually go through with ruining Katherine if I intervened? I couldn’t let him do that. Defying my father wasn’t high on my list of desirables, so I’d just have to make sure I didn’t lose.
“Are you okay?” Katherine asked, noting the sudden tension in my body. “You have a pensive expression.”
“I’m fine,” I lied with an engaging smile. “Just wondering how I’m going to keep my hands to myself during dinner when I want to do unspeakably dirty things to you in that gorgeous dress.”
She gasped and blushed, but this time she didn’t hit me with a disapproving glare. Could it be Katherine was softening? I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I wasn’t going to celebrate prematurely, either. We got off at the ground floor and exited the hotel.
“So where are we going for dinner?” she asked as I helped her into the waiting town car. “Although I think I’m too nervous to eat. What if I spill on this incredible dress? I’m such a klutz. What if I end up with a buttered roll between my boobs?”
“Then I would be a gentleman and fish it out.” With my mouth. At her shy smile, I added, “You’re the only woman I know who can find some way to wear her food at some point during the meal.” When she started to frown, I hurried to add, “And I find it one of your more endearing qualities, believe it or not.”
“I don’t believe it,” Katherine responded, smoothing the lines from her dress as she settled in her seat. “But you always were a smooth talker. I won’t hold it against you.”
“That’s a plus,” I said with a rueful chuckle, returning to the subject of dinner. “Tonight, we have dinner reservations in the private section at Cafe Zoetrope. I think you’ll love the ambience.”
At the mention of filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola’s San Francisco restaurant, Katherine stilled the anxious fidgeting of her fingers on her matching clutch. I pretended not to notice how her breath had become shallow and her eyes had widened. “The actual Cafe Zoetrope?” she asked breathily.
I pretended ignorance. “You’ve heard of it?”
“I think I read something about it online,” Katherine hedged, not willing to divulge her true pleasure at my choice. This woman would concede no easy victories. Under normal circumstances, I would enjoy the challenge, but I needed a win.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said, her gaze dipping with a bashfulness that I found incredibly alluring. “You didn’t have to do all this, but I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”
My pride swelled. Being able to coax a smile from Katherine’s supple lips was the best feeling in the world, but it made me greedy for more. I wanted to throw diamonds and whatever else she might want at her feet if it meant earning genuine happiness from her. “It suits you. The blue compliments your skin tone perfectly. You should trust me to always know what will make you shine.”
The budding warmth fled from her eyes as she looked away. “I like to figure out for myself what works and what doesn’t.”
Damn it. My damn arrogance would be my downfall when it came to Katherine. Swallowing my pride, I said, “Of course. I’m humbled that you agreed with my choice.”
She shot me a quick, rueful glance as if to say, You? Humble? And I wanted to admit, Yeah, hard pill to swallow, but I’m truly trying. However, I said nothing. I didn’t trust my mouth not to fuck it up.
We arrived at Zoetrope, entering through a private door reserved for VIPs and members of the Coppola family, and were seated at a cozy table surrounded by memorabilia from Coppola’s films throughout the years.
In spite of my gaffe only moments prior, Katherine was entranced with my restaurant choice.
“This is incredible,” she breathed, her eyes sparklin
g with wonder. “I love his films and his spirit. This is a man who never gave up on his dreams and goals, no matter that to others he seemed to fail several times. I’m in awe of that kind of grit and talent. And entrepreneurship! I mean restaurant, winery, filmmaker, father...the man is an inspiration.”
And I’m in awe of you.
She caught me watching her, her smile faltering before she asked, “How’d you know I would love a place like this? I’ve never told you about my fascination with Francis Ford Coppola.”
“I pay attention to the things that matter to you,” I answered. “You own every one of his movies on DVD, and you once mentioned that you wanted to take a trip to California to see his winery.” Not to mention, I knew she’d recently sent her résumé to the winery’s marketing department.
Her cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink. “You remember that?”
“Of course.”
It’d been a casual comment, but when she’d talked about Coppola, my jealousy had flared. I’d wanted to be the sole reason her face lit up like a Christmas tree. I’d been too young to appreciate that learning what made my woman tick was a gift, but then, I’d fully taken for granted that Katherine was mine and always would be, so I hadn’t spent much effort in ensuring she was happy.
The waitstaff, impeccably trained, took our orders and left us to ourselves. The wine helped ease the tension, but I was suddenly agitated. Too many thoughts racing through my head. Too many pitfalls to stumble onto and break my neck.
Confidence had always been my strength, my armor. My fear that none of my usual tricks would work left me flailing with a flimsy strategy, and with the stakes as high as they were, I couldn’t afford to make stupid mistakes.
I needed Katherine in my bed, but it had to be timed perfectly. Each time I pushed and pulled away, I drove her frustration higher so that when I finally got between her legs, she’d remember why we were so good together.
Bone-melting orgasms were going to be my secret weapon to cracking open that locked heart.