She hadn’t reached him there. No one had.
* * *
When Serena emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a voluminous terrycloth robe, she still felt raw. The bedroom was empty, and a lurch of something awfully like disappointment went through her belly to think that Luca had left.
And then she cursed herself. Hadn’t she told him to ‘leave me alone’? Why on earth would he want to have anything to do with a physically and emotionally wounded woman when there had to be any number of willing women who would give him all the satisfaction he might crave without the post-coital angst?
Still...it hurt in a way that it shouldn’t.
Serena belted the robe tightly around her waist and, feeling restless, went out to the living area. Her hair lay in a damp tangle down her back.
But when she looked out through the glass doors she saw him. He hadn’t left. Her heart stopped as something very warm and treacherous filled her chest.
As she came closer to the open doors she could see that he’d pulled on soft faded jeans. His back was broad and smooth, his hair ruffled. From her hands or the breeze? Serena hovered at the door, on the threshold.
And then Luca said over his shoulder, ‘You should come and see the view—it’s pretty spectacular.’
Serena came out and stood not far from Luca, putting her hands on the railing. The view was indeed exquisite. Rio was lit up with a thousand lights, the Sugar Loaf in the distance, and the beaches just out of sight. It was magical. Other-worldly.
‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ she breathed, curiously soothed by Luca’s muted reaction to her reappearance.
He said lightly now, ‘I find that hard to believe.’
Serena’s hands tightened on the railing. ‘It’s true. Before...I wouldn’t have noticed.’
She could sense him turning towards her and her skin warmed. Just like that. From his attention. She glanced at him and his face looked stark in the moonlight.
‘Did I hurt you? You were with me all the way and then...you weren’t.’
‘No!’ Serena blurted out, horrified that he would think that. ‘No,’ she said again, quieter, and looked back at the view. ‘Nothing like that.’
‘Then...what?’
Why wouldn’t he let it go? Serena wasn’t used to men who gave any consideration to how much she’d enjoyed sex—they’d usually been happy just to say they’d had her. The wild child.
Luca’s voice broke in again. ‘You’ve already come in my arms, so I know what it feels like, but you shut down.’
Serena got hot, recalling the strength of her orgasm when he’d been touching her in the jungle... But that had been different... He hadn’t been inside her.
And she hadn’t been falling for him.
The realisation hit her now, as if she’d been blocking it out. She was falling for him—tumbling, in fact. No wonder her body had shut down. It had known before she did. She’d been right to fear his total possession.
She looked at him, shocked, terrified it might be written over her head in neon lights. But he was just raising a brow, waiting for an answer. Oblivious.
Her mind whirling with this new and fragile knowledge, she whispered, ‘I told you...it’s been a while.’
‘What’s “a while”?’
Serena stared at him, wanting him to let it go. ‘Years—okay? A long time.’
Something in his eyes flashed. ‘You haven’t had any lovers since you left Italy?’
She shook her head, avoiding his eye again, and said tightly, ‘No—and not for a while before that.’
God, this was excruciating!
‘The truth is I’ve never really enjoyed sex. My reputation for promiscuity and sexual prowess was largely based on the stories of men who’d been turned down. I’m afraid I’m not half as debauched as you might think...a lot of talk and not a lot of action.’
Luca was quiet for a long time, and then he said, ‘I could tell you weren’t that experienced. But you were touted as one of Europe’s most licentious socialites and you didn’t do much to defend yourself.’
She sent him a dark glance. ‘As if anyone would have believed me.’ She looked out over the view and felt somehow removed, suspended in space. ‘Do you know how I learned to French kiss?’
She could sense Luca going still. ‘How?’
Serena smiled but it was bitter, hard. ‘One of my father’s friends. At a party. He came into my room.’
She let out a shocked gasp when Luca grabbed her shoulders and pulled her around to face him. His face was stark, pale. His reaction took her aback.
‘Did he touch you? Did he—?’
Serena shook her head quickly. ‘No. No. My sister Siena was there...we shared a room. She woke up and got into bed beside me and the man left. After that we made sure to lock our door every night.’
Luca’s hands were still gripping her shoulders. ‘Deus...Serena.’
He let her go and ran a hand through his hair, looking at her as if she was a stranger. On some deep level Serena welcomed it. The other thing was too scary. Luca looking at her with something approximating gentleness...
She saw a lounger nearby and went over and sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest. Luca stood with his back to the railing, hands in his pockets. Tense.
As if the words were being wrung out of him, he finally said, ‘It’s not adding up. You’re not adding up.’
‘What’s not adding up?’ Serena asked quietly, her heart palpitating at Luca’s intent look.
‘You’ve had nothing but opportunities to be difficult since you got here and you haven’t been. No one can act that well. A child who is medicated for being difficult, wilful...who grows into a wild teenager hell-bent on causing controversy wherever she goes...that’s not you.’
Serena’s heart beat fast. She felt light-headed. Faintly she said, ‘It was me.’
Luca was grim. ‘Was? No one changes that easily, or that swiftly.’
He came over and pulled a chair close, sat down. Serena knew her eyes had gone wide. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering, about to fall.
‘I want to know, Serena... Why were you put on medication so young?’
‘I told you...after my mother died—’
Luca shook his head. ‘There has to be more to it than that.’
Serena
