Page 12 of Saint
His response comes almost immediately, making my heart leap into my throat.
Luca: I’ll be waiting, baby girl.
Baby girl. Two simple words that make my knees weak. I’ve never been anyone’s baby girl before—I’ve been “sweetheart” to my father, “darling” to my mother, “Miss Moore” to everyone else. But baby girl... that’s something altogether different. Something that makes me press my thighs together against the sudden ache.
I apply one last coat of lipstick—red, bold, nothing like the pale pink gloss I usually wear—and grab my small clutch. Keys, ID, a hundred dollars cash, and a tube of lipstick. That’s all I’m bringing into Luca Ravello’s world tonight.
The hallway is mercifully empty as I slip out, my heels clicking against the linoleum. I take the back stairs, avoiding the main lobby where someone might see me and remember later. The Governor’s daughter doesn’t wear dresses that barely cover her ass or heels that make her legs look a mile long. The Governor’s daughter doesn’t sneak out to meet men twice her age who look at her like they want to consume her whole.
But tonight, I’m not the Governor’s daughter. Tonight, I’m just Lily—a woman following the pull of something dark and hungry that’s lived inside me for years, something I’ve never dared to acknowledge until I saw it reflected in Luca’s eyes.
The night air kisses my bare shoulders and slides between my thighs like cool silk, raising goosebumps that tingle with each hurried step. I press myself into shadows between street lamps, the distant bass from a nightclub pulsing in rhythm with my thundering heart. My nipples harden against the thin fabric of my dress—from the chill or from anticipation, I can’t tell anymore. Every car that passes makes me flinch, headlights threatening to expose this version of myself: lips swollen from nervous biting, pupils dilated with want, the scent of that seductive perfume mingling with the musk of my own arousal.
St. Augustine’s comes into view, its stone façade illuminated against the darkening sky. And there, leaning against a sleek black car that probably costs more than my entire education, is Luca. Even from a distance, I can feel the weight of his gaze as it lands on me, trailing down my body like a physical touch.
I falter for a moment, my stiletto catching on a crack in the sidewalk. My pulse throbs in my throat as memories flood back—his silhouette at my father’s fundraiser, champagne glass dangling from long fingers, his gaze sliding over me like warm honey. At the same time, politicians’ voices fade to white noise around us. This is madness. But instead of retreating, my legs carry me forward, each step more deliberate than the last, thefabric of my dress whispering against my thighs as I move toward him like a compass finding north.
As I get closer, the night air slides between us like silk, carrying my perfume to him. His jaw tightens, nostrils flaring slightly as he inhales. His gaze travels from my ankles up my legs, lingering at the hem of my dress, then climbing higher to where the fabric clings to my hips, my waist, the swell of my breasts.
“Lily,” he says when I reach him, my name like dark honey on his tongue. He stands so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body, though he doesn’t touch me. His breath whispers against my ear. “You look... unexpected."
“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?” I ask, aiming for confidence despite the tremor in my voice.
His mouth hovers near my temple, close enough that I can almost taste the whiskey on his breath. “Deliciously unexpected.” He opens the passenger door, his fingers brushing mine as he takes my hand. “Last chance to walk away.”
I meet his gaze, finding my courage in the heat I see there. "I’m here, aren’t I?"
“So you are.” He gestures to the open door. “Get in, baby girl. The night is just beginning.”
I slide into the leather seat, the dress riding up my thighs as I do. I don’t pull it down, and I don’t miss how his eyes track the movement before he closes the door. My heart hammers against my ribs as he walks around to the driver’s side, every instinct screaming that I’m making a mistake.
But as he slides in beside me, filling the car with his presence and that intoxicating scent of expensive cologne and raw masculinity, I can’t bring myself to care. Whatever consequences come from tonight—and there will be consequences, I’m not naive enough to believe otherwise—they’ll be worth it for the chance to discover what happens when the Governor’s perfectdaughter steps into the darkness with a man who promises to corrupt her.
Chapter 10
Luca
I signalmy driver with a slight nod, watching him divert his eyes from Lily’s legs as he closes the door behind us. Smart man. The Bentley purrs to life, and I press a button to raise the privacy partition.
“Change of plans,” I tell her, my voice rougher than intended. “We’re not going to a restaurant.”
The dim interior lighting catches on her lips—Christ, that red is killing me—as she turns to face me. “Where are we going then?"
“My place,” I say, observing and gauging her reaction. “I have a chef preparing dinner for us.”
A flash of uncertainty crosses her face, replaced quickly by something bolder. “Your place? That’s... presumptuous.”
I laugh, the sound low in my throat. “I’m a presumptuous man, baby girl.”
She shifts in her seat, the movement causing her dress to ride higher. My fingers itch to touch the exposed skin of her thigh, but I keep my hands firmly on my own side of the seat, for now.
“You’re not what I expected,” I admit, watching the city lights play across her face.
“What did you expect? The Governor’s perfect little princess?”
"Something like that.” I reach across the space between us, not to touch her, but to adjust the temperature control. The proximity makes her breath catch. “Instead, I get a woman who buys fuck-me heels and wears a dress that’s practically begging to be ripped off.”
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. “Maybe I’m tired of being what everyone expects.”
