Modern Romance July 2015 Books 5-8. Louise Fuller

worry, I’m not going to come near you.’

      ‘You’re in a very good mood.’

      ‘I know,’ Luka said. ‘I thought it would be hell but I’m really enjoying myself. I like seeing your father free and I love watching you edgy and able to do nothing about it.’

      Then he did the cruellest thing.

      He kissed her on the tip of her nose and two minutes later he was asleep.

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      LUKA WOKE UP AND for the first morning in his life it was the right face on the pillow next to him.

      He examined her beautiful face and he looked at where one breast had fallen out of her nightdress. Their legs were loosely entwined, hers over one of his and beneath the other.

      She was loyal, she was fierce and she matched him.

      He knew their dance, even if it had only been a short one.

      He knew the steps, for their souls were familiar.

      And she would never forgive him for what his father had done.

      If she did, it wouldn’t be for long. In the heat of the moment his father’s sins would be raised and then hurled at him in her, oh, so Sicilian way.

      And he would not live like that.

      He wished it were different.

      If he could change one thing about her, would he, though?

      It would be like trimming the corner off a work of art, or like removing one letter from the alphabet and watching one’s words fall apart.

      ‘Why are you staring at me?’ Sophie asked as her brown eyes opened to his.

      ‘Because you’re in my bed and there is not much else to look at.’ Then his eyes drifted down to her exposed breast and he gave a lazy smile as she tucked herself in.

      ‘See,’ Luka said, ‘it’s rude when I rearrange myself, but not when you do.’

      ‘Hard again, Luka?’ Sophie smiled.

      ‘That’s for me to know,’ Luka answered, and didn’t even roll over as she climbed out of bed and went to her wardrobe.

      She had no idea what to wear. Bella had made her plenty of stunning clothes but none were very practical for making coffee so instead she took out one of his shirts.

      ‘How’s the phobia?’ Luka asked. ‘Last time you put on one of my shirts there were ten policemen in the bedroom. You seem remarkably calm—no flashbacks?’

      She didn’t bother answering him. Instead, she went to make coffee and didn’t look up when Luka came through. He was wearing a suit and looked ready for the office.

      ‘I thought you’d take today off.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I thought—’

      ‘I have an office here in Rome and I have a lot of work that needs to be done. Anyway, I thought it might be nice for you to have a day with your father, without being on edge with me here.’

      ‘I’m going to take him in some breakfast,’ Sophie said.

      ‘The doctor is coming at nine to check up on him,’ Luka said, and he put a credit card on the bench.

      ‘What’s this for?’

      ‘The caterers and things.’

      ‘I can cover that,’ Sophie lied. She really had been intending to spend the day cooking and doing what she could to prepare for tonight.

      ‘Please, don’t say you will get this. You asked me to go along with things as if we were together. Well, that is how it would be. Book the caterers, get the garden looking beautiful. I have never heard of your business so I don’t know how easy it will be for you to arrange things with no notice. Use my name, you won’t have a problem’

      She didn’t have a single one.

      It was strange to have the world at your fingers, courtesy of the Cavaliere name.

      Except people didn’t jump in fear when she rang and said that she was organising a last-minute gathering; instead, they seemed genuinely happy to help.

      And so she enjoyed herself amidst the saddest of times.

      The columns of foliage and scented trees were decorated with tiny lights that would come on at sunset. A string quartet had been arranged and the food had Sophie’s mouth watering even as she made her selections.

      Hearing her father cough and struggle to catch his breath, Sophie knew this would all be over, long before the credit-card bills came in.

      ‘What’s this?’ Paulo asked.

      ‘A new shirt and suit.’ Sophie smiled. ‘They just need you to try it on so they can take it in.’

      Yes, to Sophie, Luka’s life was charmed.

      And so she had a beautician come to Luka’s home and sat on a velvet chair in the bedroom as her thick black hair was spun into heavy ringlets and her eyelids were painted a smoky grey.

      ‘Red lips...’ the beautician said, but Sophie shook her head.

      In her bag, still there, was her once-used lip glaze.

      She wondered if it would all have dried up but, no, it went on easily.

      ‘Just touch it up through the evening,’ the beautician said. ‘And try not to play with your hair or the curls will drop.’

      Sophie chose her dress from the selection Bella had made. A simple black dress that went with the shoes she had worn on the day she had walked into his office was her choice. She tried it on and let out a small hiss of frustration. The front was far too low and as for the back there wasn’t one.

      Luka walked in as Sophie stood staring in the mirror, trying to fathom if she’d be safe without a bra.

      He saw first her back, glossy and brown, with black ringlets snaking down it. He looked down and saw the muscles of her calves drawn lean in high heels and he walked over, anticipating her slight jump as he came into view in the mirror.

      ‘I’m sorry about all this,’ Sophie said.

      ‘Don’t be sorry.’ Luka shrugged. ‘I agreed to go along with this. Of course your father would want a special night.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      He looked at her lips and told himself he was imagining things because they were the very lips he had kissed that long-ago day. He looked down at the gape of unrestrained cleavage and thick nipples that jutted from the fabric.

      ‘I forgot to pack my backless bra...’

      ‘Those bras are the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.’

      She could feel a shiver on her back, so light she thought it might be his finger, but she realised he was holding a drink with one hand and removing his tie with the other.

      It was the nerves on her spine that were leaping in hope.

      ‘I’ll change,’ Sophie said, turning to go to the wardrobe, except Luka didn’t step aside and she walked slap bang into him.

      His drink he held steady.

      It was her heart that seemed to spill on the floor.

      ‘You’ll wear that,’ Luka said. ‘You’ll wear what turns me on.’

      ‘Why?’ Sophie demanded. Why the hell would he do this to them?

      ‘Mortification of the flesh,’ Luka answered. ‘It’s my new game.’

      He undid his shirt and she could