Married For His Secret Heir. Jennifer Faye

sun painted the sky with streaks of orange, pink and purple. But tonight Luca was in no mood to appreciate nature’s beauty.

      In the weeks since he’d last seen her in Paris, he’d convinced himself that everything about their evening together had been blown out of proportion by the champagne. He just couldn’t accept that he was attracted to his childhood friend. He couldn’t allow that to happen, because they could have no future.

      He wasn’t into commitments.

      Not now. Not ever.

      But there was something about Elena that pulled at him...even to this day.

      And then he remembered how he’d woken up the morning after they’d made love and heard Elena sniffling. The sound had ripped him apart. No one had ever cried after spending the night with him. And the fact that it was Elena, of all people, made the situation so much worse.

      He hadn’t moved for an indeterminable number of minutes. Her muffled sobs had sliced through him. Clearly she’d thought their night together had been a mistake. Unable to think of anything to say to comfort her, he’d continued to breathe deeply as though he’d still been asleep. Each breath had been painful, as his entire body was tense. The memory was still so crystal clear.

      He had done that. He had made Elena cry. And he felt awful.

      If only he hadn’t let things get out of hand. But he’d thought she’d been having a good time. Still, he should have resisted kissing her. He should have made their friendship the priority. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have realized there would be no coming back from holding her all night long.

      He swallowed hard as the limo glided through the estate to the palace. The ride only took a couple of minutes, but with Elena so close to him, time seemed to stand still. For the first time, he wasn’t sure what to say or what to do.

      Boy, he’d really messed things up between them. He resisted the urge to rake his fingers through his hair. He needed to look his best for the professional photos his sister would undoubtedly insist upon.

      On second thought, this date is not a good idea.

      Not good at all.

      “Are you sure about this?” Elena asked.

      “Yes.” Liar.

      She arched a brow. “You don’t sound certain.”

      This was where he should reach out and squeeze her hand to reassure her, but instead he didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself to touch her. The images of their night together were still in the forefront of his mind.

      He’d really mucked things up. The truth was he didn’t want to be Elena’s escort, but when her mother had mentioned Elena’s return to the island, he’d been caught off guard. And when her mother had mentioned the party, Luca had spoken without thinking.

      And now, well, all he wanted to do was sweep Elena into his arms and pick up right where they’d left off back in Paris. He wanted to feel her eager lips beneath his—ready and willing.

      He halted his thoughts. This wasn’t like him. When he ended a relationship, he moved on without looking back. With Elena there had been no moving on. Since that night, no other woman had interested him.

      When he closed his eyes, it was Elena’s face he saw. It was the memory of her lips that tormented him. How was he ever supposed to get her out of his system?

      So he didn’t dare look at Elena right now. He refused to act on those desires. She’d made it abundantly clear that she regretted their night together—no matter how hot and steamy it had been.

      He just needed to focus on something else—anything else. His mind drew a blank. Perhaps he should start a conversation. Yes, that was a good idea. But what should he talk about?

      “I was surprised to hear you were back on the island.” There—that sounded normal enough.

      She shrugged. “I didn’t have much choice, considering I thought my mother truly needed me.”

      “I take it she exaggerated her injuries?”

      Elena nodded. “By the sound of her on the phone, she was on death’s door.”

      Luca smiled. “I can imagine.”

      “What does that mean?” Elena suddenly sounded protective of her mother.

      “I just meant that your mother would do anything to get you home.”

      “And how would you know? You’re here even less than I am.”

      He shrugged, not certain he wanted to admit that he talked with her mother often enough. At first, Elena’s mother had concocted any excuse possible to call him, but as time went by, he got used to hearing from her. He actually looked forward to it, because she would fill him in on all of Elena’s accomplishments.

      “I just remember how she used to be—always wanting you to stay close to home.”

      Elena shrugged. “She finally accepted that my future wasn’t in Mirraccino.”

      “Speaking of which, how did you get time off from your new campaign to fly here?”

      Elena glanced away. “I...ah, had a break in my schedule.”

      There was something more she wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t push. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him when she was ready. The fact she was even speaking to him, he took as a positive sign. Maybe there was hope for their friendship after all.

      The car pulled to a stop in front of the palace. Though he’d been staying here since he arrived a couple of days ago, he didn’t want to attend this dinner any more than Elena. But he refused to disappoint his sister. He’d already hurt her enough by leaving home and allowing extended gaps between visits. He knew Annabelle wanted her family reunited, and now that their mother’s killer had been caught, she thought it would fix everything.

      It wouldn’t.

      Luca had witnessed too much. Experienced too much. And he couldn’t be the son that his father needed—and perhaps deserved.

      But now that Annabelle was getting married, hopefully she’d stop longing for the family she’d lost. When a family member was murdered, it seemed for the most part that families reacted in one of two ways. The horrific event either drew them together—the family against the world. Or it splintered them apart—each finding their solace in a different way. His family had been the latter.

      Luca’s car door swung open, interrupting his thoughts. It was for the best. He didn’t want to dwell on how he’d disappointed his sister repeatedly over the years. Tonight was to be a celebration. And he would put on his biggest and brightest smile, which shouldn’t be too hard since their father, the duke, was not to be in attendance. Tonight was an informal gathering of friends and some family. Annabelle wanted her groom to meet the people who had meant a lot to her while she was growing up.

      An enormous wooden door with brass fixtures swung open. An older gentleman in a black-and-white tux stepped outside to greet them.

      Elena put her hand on Luca’s arm, pausing him from getting out of the car. She leaned over and whispered, “That’s so strange.”

      “What is?” Luca glanced around, but he didn’t notice anything amiss.

      “That the butler is there to greet me—well, us. That’s never happened in my whole life.”

      Luca smiled and shook his head. “I’m glad it makes you happy.”

      “It does.”

      Luca alighted from the car and turned back. He held out his hand to help Elena to her feet. “So what do you think?”

      “I think that no matter where I go, this palace is the most beautiful building.” Her gaze focused on the palace and not him. “What do you think? You’ve traveled even more than me. Have you ever seen anything so amazing?”

      Luca