I thought back to the day and night we’d spent together. We’d talked nonstop about our dreams, our goals, our loves and hates. We’d talked about Luca’s tendency to overwork and how it was his way of hiding from his loneliness. We talked about my fears of winding up the same way as my boss, obsessed with success to the point of forsaking any kind of joy outside of work.
“Let’s go to a real beach resort in the Caribbean,” Luca had suggested after I’d jokingly ordered a rum punch at dinner. “You still have another two weeks off, right?”
I’d waved him off with a laugh. “I’m holding out for my honeymoon. I always wanted to honeymoon on a private island in the Caribbean.”
He’d cupped my cheek and leaned in to kiss it before whispering in my ear. “Then let’s get married so I can take you on that honeymoon.”
I’d shifted my head just enough to kiss his lips again, and we’d drowned in each other for another hour at least. It wasn’t until much later in the night, after more talking, more lovemaking, more shock at our easy connection, that we’d gotten drunk enough on each other’s company to actually do it.
I shifted on the bed and glanced at Luca’s sleep-mussed hair. “Didn’t you marry me so you can whisk me away to a proper beach resort?” I asked. “Show me a good time, hopefully decked out in nothing more than a teeny-weeny bikini?”
“I love you,” Luca said plainly, shocking the hell out of me.
I stared at him. “You can’t possibly,” I said weakly, terrified I was right.
Luca moved back to sit against the headboard before pulling me to straddle his lap. He cupped my cheeks. “I know it seems that way, and if you’d asked me this only a few days ago, I would have scoffed. But…” He sighed. “As soon as you stepped on that plane… my heart flopped around in a way I’ve never felt before. You… you’re magnetic. Funny and confident. Beautiful and easy to be with. I want more of you, so much more. Maybe there isn’t such a thing as love at first sight, but Curtis was right when he said successful businessmen use their instincts, and I—”
I shook my head. “I know you did not just invoke your cousin’s name when making a declaration of affection.”
He stroked my cheekbone with his thumb. “Marcel… I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’m desperate to keep you with me. But I will completely understand if you need more time. We can date, get to know each other better. Just… please don’t end it without trying. That’s all I ask.”
He looked so eager to try this thing, even if I hadn’t been half in love with him myself, I would have said yes just to keep from disappointing him.
Oh, who was I kidding? I wasn’t half in love. I didn’t know how to do things halfway. I was all the way, one hundred percent in it.
When I was with Luca, I felt cherished. He listened to me and really heard what I had to say. He respected my job and asked me detailed questions about it. He never once implied I should be doing something “more” or hoping for a promotion past being Grey’s PA. I loved my job. I loved being the crucial support to a successful man’s life and work. My job with Grey Blackwood made me feel respected, valuable, and productive. I’d never dated anyone who understood that and didn’t think the job was beneath me.
Until now.
“What if I don’t want to try?” I asked, quickly continuing before he could misunderstand. “What if I simply want to do it? Be your husband in all ways? Would you be ready for that?”
Luca let out a deep exhale and smiled softly. “So ready.”
“And you’re okay with my job? My travel and long hours?” I thought about my troubled boss. Grey was driven by demons from his past. A crushing heartbreak from years ago still dogged him, leaving him on a quest for revenge that was lucrative as hell but not at all healthy. If it weren’t for me, the man would have worked himself into an early grave already. Besides, I loved my job almost as much as I loved Luca, and I knew he wanted me to be happy.
“I travel a lot for my job too. But I own my own plane and work for myself, which means I can try to schedule my travel around yours. It might take some time to figure it out, but I don’t want to take over your whole life. I want as much of you as I can get without making you into someone you aren’t.”
I let out a happy sigh. “This is never going to work. Grey is going to lose his mind, and Jillian’s going to think we’re pranking her to get her back for the rent boy,” I said. “But damn, it’s going to be fun while it lasts.”
Luca’s arms tightened around me. “Since we’re in Vegas, I think a little bet is in order.”
I leaned in and kissed his jaw before nuzzling into his neck. “What kind of bet?”
“I’ll bet you our marriage lasts forever. So for every year we stay together, you have to get another paw print added to your tattoo.”
I sat up and looked down at the tiny single paw print over my hip. I’d gotten it as soon as I was old enough, and it symbolized my love of animals even though I didn’t have time for my own pet… yet.
“You’re on,” I said, moving my kisses down over his chest to begin a slow and thorough enjoyment of my marital privileges.
After happily taking his bet, I forgot all about it… until our first anniversary, when Luca had surprised me with a visit to a tattoo shop to get my second paw print.
Who would have imagined years later I’d have so many of them I would look like I’d been trampled by a giant tribe of tiny kittens?
Not me. Not ever. But I adored them. Because every one of those little inked paws represented a year of being loved by the sexiest, kindest man I knew.
And another chance to reminisce about how agreeing to become Luca Bernardi’s temporary PA had led me to my very real and permanent happily ever after.
Want more romance set in Luca and Marcel’s world and learn about how Grey Blackwood plans to get revenge on the man who broke his heart? Turn the page for a steamy preview of Hostile Takeover.
Hostile Takeover Sneak Peek
Grey
“Attack him where he is unprepared. Appear where you are not expected.”
~ Sun Tzu, The Art of War
“Must you always go in there looking like the Doom-Bringer?”
My personal assistant had a lazy drawl despite being one of the hardest workers I’d ever met. I shot him a look. “In this case, I am literally a doom-bringer. Do you expect me to go in there with pompoms and a cheerful chant about the joys of acquisition redundancies?”
We were striding down Ninth Avenue toward the Gallin building for my last and the ultimate takeover in the plan I’d concocted after that night at the Crosbie Country Club fifteen long years ago. York Capital was finally mine. It had taken me ten long years of planning and surreptitiously buying up stock here and there as the market and my own liquid capital allowed.
But it was finally here. The day I got to walk in and tell Warren York where he could shove it.
“Not cheer exactly, but you could at least fake a tear for all the people who will be losing their jobs through no fault of their own.”