Page 33 of Untouchable Queen
The colorful flowers she’s painted onto the fragile medium are as delicate as the shells themselves, and my eyes widen as I take in her artistry. “These are incredible,” I breathe.
“Which ones are your favorite?” Lucian asks.
“Do I have to pick?”
He chuckles, and when he reaches out, his fingers brush across a pair of earrings that caught my eye just moments before he pointed them out. They’re stunning with white lilies on a dark mother of pearl background.
“Pick however many you’d like.”
My first thought is to get a pair for Natasha. She’s not nearly as fashion focused as I am, but I’m sure she would love these. I pick a pair for Quinn as well—she might be Killian’s sister, but Natasha considers her family, so I do too. Then I pick a third pair for myself.
“Can I wear these now?” I ask.
“Of course,” the old woman says as she wraps the other two jewelry boxes in small paper bags with her gnarled fingers.
As we continue our stroll down the walkway to the beach, I can’t seem to stop smiling. Something about the casual sense of contentment in the small town, the welcoming and friendly Italian culture, puts me at ease, and I find it impossible not to let go of the stress and pressure of becoming the head of my family.
When Lucian takes my hand, interlacing our fingers so our palms meet, my heart skips a beat. He’s such a contradiction—so at ease and charming but capable of being shockingly ruthless and cruel. I still don’t know what to make of him, but I’m finding it harder and harder not to fall for him. It feels like he’s doing everything within his power to win my trust, and despite the loyalty I have for my father and my family, I wonder if continuing my battle with Lucian is really feasible in the long run.
He’s dangerously charming when he wants to be, and here, in the romantic atmosphere of Positano he’s close to irresistible.
The emotional breakdown I had yesterday feels like the distant past, and all that matters right now is this moment, the contentment I feel, the relief of not being constantly crushed under the weight of my grief and the responsibilities that come with my loss.
“You ready to put that new swimsuit to use?” Lucian asks as the beach opens up before us.
My lips part on a gasp at the beauty of it. I’ve never seen such black rocks on a beach before. They’re no larger than the palm of my hand, and as they get closer to the water’s edge, they gradually get smaller, smoother, more inviting to walk on with bare feet. I can feel the heat radiating off of them even from here, and the salty smell of the Mediterranean makes me giddy with anticipation.
“Yeah,” I agree.
Lucian pulls me in the direction of a building down the rocky beach and after renting a changing tent, an umbrella, and several beach chairs, he heads down to the water’s edge while I switch from my dress into the strappy white Brazilian one-piece swimsuit I simply couldn’t pass up. I keep my sandals on all the way to the edge of the water because the rocks are surprisingly challenging to traverse without them. And as I slip them off to step onto the wet pebbles along the shore, Lucian watches me from the water, his gaze burning with desire.
“Come join me,tesoro,” he says, his smooth voice deep and enticing.
A shiver races up my spine, and my feet move forward before I’ve even chosen to obey him. Then a jolt of surprise makes me tense as the chilly water rushes around my ankles.
“It’s cold,” I say, my tone stunned as my voice carries across the water.
“It’ll feel good to get out of the heat,” he encourages, wading toward me.
A bead of sweat trickles down my back, and I know he’s right, but more than that, I recognize that glint in his eye. If I don’t choose to enter the water willingly, he might just pick me up and throw me in—like he did at the pool.
Biting back my squeal of discomfort, I wade forward until I’m waist deep in the water. My nipples pucker through the thin fabric, my chest heaving as I take sharp breaths, trying to tell my body that the shock it’s enduring is nothing to worry about.
Lucian’s eyes travel appreciatively over my breasts, and he closes the distance between us, his chest rising from the water and glistening in the bright sun.
“You’re almost there,” he murmurs, wrapping his muscular arms around my waist, and I shiver as the wetness from his skin seeps through the fabric of my suit.
I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to the warmth that radiates off him even though he just stepped out of the frigid water. Lucian turns me, lowering me into the water with him, and I gasp, wrapping my legs around him as the cold water swallows me up to my neck.
“You know, the Mediterranean is more buoyant than the Atlantic because it’s so salty,” Lucian says, making the trivia fact sound sexy as he murmurs it to me.
I laugh as a shiver ripples through me. “Are you telling me that to distract me from how cold it is?” I tease.
“I’m telling you because it means we’ve got you,” he says softly, his strong arms holding me close as his eyes burn into mine. “The sea and me. You can let go and let me take the weight—just for a little while, if you want.”
Suddenly, the intimacy of the moment feels electric. The way Lucian’s holding me close, his lips mere inches from mine. His eyes intense and dark with longing. His words are so tempting, and they send an unexpected wave of relief through me—as if I needed to hear that I’m not in this alone.
The truth is, I’m terrified of my responsibility—not because I’m incapable but because I want to honor my father’s memory. I don’t want to let him down. And every day, I’m worried that I won’t be good enough. That one misstep might bring my father’s legacy crashing to the ground. I don’t want Lucian to take my father’s gift from me, but knowing that he won’t let me buckle under the weight fills me with unexpected gratitude.
