His Lost-and-Found Bride

She slid her hand into his and he pulled her towards him as the boat rocked on the water.

This was fate. It had to be.

And who was she to fight fate?

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE ROOM WAS bathed in the pale light of morning.

It wasn’t what he expected—not at all. Last night he hadn’t paid attention to anything around them. They’d barely managed to close the apartment door behind them before they’d stumbled through to her bedroom.

Lucia’s room wasn’t the stark white of the guest bedroom along the corridor. It was sumptuous and opulent, furnished in the colours she’d used to favour when painting. Purples and golds with a tiny flash of red. It suited the general feel of the apartment—the whole place still had the hint of a palace about it. And the beautiful décor and furnishings in the room were more personal—more Lucia—than the room he’d stayed in.

Lucia was still tangled in his arms, her head resting on his chest and her dark locks fanned out on the purple bedding. Her breathing was slow and steady. The early morning light and noise from the Grand Canal hadn’t woken her yet.

He didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to breathe in case it disturbed her.

This was perfection. This was exactly the way things should be between them but he knew he would have to destroy it all.

It would be so easy. So easy to say nothing at all and ignore the huge elephant that sat in the corner of the room every time they were together. But Logan didn’t want only part of Lucia. He wanted all of her. He’d waited this long. And if he couldn’t have all of her...

His hand reached up and stroked her head. They would have to spend the next few months working together in Tuscany. They could flirt, laugh, love and sleep together and make a poor attempt at having a relationship.

But the truth was that any attempt would be futile until they’d spoken about Ariella Rose. They had to start from scratch. They could only build this relationship once they’d grieved together for their daughter. And he still didn’t know if Lucia was capable of that.

His phone beeped on the table next to the bed. The noise stirred Lucia from her peaceful sleep and she woke gradually.

Her arm drifted across his chest. She was smiling as she woke, as if she were in the middle of some alluring dream.

Her eyelids flickered open, revealing her dark brown eyes surrounded by thick black lashes. All traces of last night’s make-up had vanished. Lucia didn’t need any. Her flawless skin and naturally red lips were enticing enough.

His stomach clenched as he waited for anything—any trace of regret about last night. ‘Good morning, beautiful,’ he said softly.

She smiled and closed her eyes again, pushing her naked body closer to his. Her fingers started tracing circles on his chest. ‘Good morning, handsome,’ she said sleepily.

Some of his tension dissipated. He could leave this. Say nothing. Stroke his fingers across her skin and pull her beneath the covers. It was the biggest temptation in the world right now.

And while it might offer some temporary sanctuary and pleasure it wouldn’t take him to the place he ultimately wanted to be.

Somehow he knew it didn’t matter how he phrased the question—he already knew how she would react.

It was horrible—knowing that the path they would have to tread would be a painful one. But he was ready for it. He’d been ready for it for the past twelve years.

‘How are you feeling?’

She pushed her head up onto one hand as she lay facing him. Her face still had that relaxed, sleepy, dreamy quality about it. It was the most chilled he’d ever seen her.

‘I’m fine.’ She smiled. ‘How are you?’ There was a teasing tone to her voice—as if she wanted to take this to a whole other place.

His fingers wanted to reach out and touch her soft skin. It took all his will power not to move and instead to clench the purple sheet in his fist.

‘We need to talk, Lucia. You know we need to talk.’

The muscles around her neck tensed. She turned her head away from him. ‘No, we don’t.’

It was an immediate, instinctual reaction. He knew that. He pushed himself further up the bed. The sheet moved with him, pulling from Lucia’s skin. She made a grab for it. It was amazing how a few words could make you feel naked all over again.

He sighed. ‘We have to work together, Lucia. We’re going to be in Tuscany together. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.’