Page 48 of The Duke's Virgin

“Enough.” Luka took my hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’ve convinced me. Where is your driver waiting? We need to get your luggage, yes?”

* * *

My brownstone wasquiet around us as I unlocked the door. Ricky brought up the tail end of the group, carrying Luka’s single suitcase in one hand while pulling the handle of my stacked set of luggage behind him. I’d argued my way into carrying the second suitcase so he wouldn’t have to make another trip. He needed to get home and rest, and I needed the same.

At least that was what I told myself.

But a few minutes later, after Ricky had deposited my suitcases in my room, then carried Luka’s suitcase to the largest guestroom, I found myself loitering in the kitchen. The french doors opened up to the backyard and a garden that was abloom with a rainbow of colors.

Luka stood there staring into the night, hands in his pockets, shoulders rigid.

“I love it out there,” I told him softly. “I mean, it’s not the royal gardens at the Luxembourg palace or anything, but it’s a nice place to find some peace in the middle of New York City madness.”

“It’s quite lovely,” he said, but there was an air of distraction in his voice.

“Have you learned anything new about Emmett?”

He turned, his whiskey eyes meeting mine. “Very little. I did put in a call to his parents. They’re at the hospital with him, but his father was so distracted, he couldn’t do more than tell me he’d come through another surgery. But I know where he is, so that’s more than I knew earlier.”

“That’s an improvement then.” Uncertain, my heart racing with things I just wasn’t equipped to handle, I told myself to go to bed, but the thought of going to my big, lonely bed by myself just held no appeal at all.

“Ricky put your suitcase in one of the guestrooms. But…” A fist of panic locked around my chest, squeezing the words so that they stopped in my throat.

Luka cocked a brow and took a step toward me. “But?”

In his eyes, I saw a slow-burning smolder flicker to awareness. My belly heated, and the sudden rush of adrenaline bolstered my confidence.

“But…” I angled my head toward the stairs. “My room is bigger. You’re welcome to join me.”

He closed the distance between us.

My breath caught as he reached up to tug on my braid.

“Are you looking for somebody to keep you company tonight, Stacia? I can’t claim to be in a patient, seductive mood if that’s the case.” He leaned, using his hold on my hair to draw my head upward until I met his gaze. He bent down and kissed me, hard, rough and impatient. “I won’t be a tender lover today if I join you. Have you changed your mind?”

“No.”

He dipped his head and murmured against my ear, “Say my name.”

“Luka.”

He kissed me again, swallowing down my moan. But when I went to press against him, he stopped me, his hands lightly gripping my upper arms and holding me back as he lifted his head.

Wordlessly, we stared at each other, unspoken things passing between us.

My heart sped up as he let go, then took the end of my braid, pulling the band off before slowly combing it free.

“I love your hair,” he said, voice low and husky. “For a few minutes, that first night, you lay next to me, your head on my chest and your hair spread around us like a veil, soft and smooth as silk. I keep thinking about that moment.”

He finished working my hair free, smoothing it down so that it spilled around my breasts.

“I want to see you wearing nothing but your hair, Stacia.” He reached for the top of my blouse, giving me time to pull away.

I didn’t.

I could hardly speak as he worked each button free, taking his time. Once he was done, he didn’t push the shirt free, though. Instead, he swept me up into his arms.

Gasping, I wrapped my arms around him.

---