Page 33 of Saint
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just tired from the spa.”
"Well, go freshen up. Dinner’s in an hour.”
I flee to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. My hands shake as I peel off my clothes, wincing at the tender spots where Luca’s fingers dug into my skin. I should be horrified by how quickly this has happened, by how completely I’ve surrendered to a man I barely know. A man with dangerous connections behind his saintly reputation.
Instead, I’m already aching for him again.
The hot spray of the shower hits my skin, and I close my eyes, instantly transported back to the spa. I can almost feel Luca’s broad chest pressed against my back, his teeth grazing my earlobe as he whispers filthy promises. My hand drifts between my legs, finding myself still swollen and sensitive.
I turn, facing the shower head, and adjust the nozzle to a pulsing stream. The water hits my swollen, aching clit with perfect pressure, and I gasp, bracing one hand against the tile. My other hand slides up to pinch my nipple, imagining it’s Luca’s teeth there instead. I rock my hips against the spray, shameless and greedy for release.
“That’s it, baby girl,” I hear his voice in my head as clearly as if he were here. “Show me how wet you get thinking about being on your knees for me.”
I come with a muffled cry, my entire body convulsing, juices running down my inner thighs despite the shower spray. As the intense waves of pleasure finally recede, reality crashes back in. What am I doing? What have I agreed to?
But the thought of backing out, of never feeling Luca’s hands on me again, makes me physically ill. I’ve never wanted anything—anyone—the way I like him. It’s like he’s rewired my body, my brain, my very soul to crave him.
I dress with unusual care, selecting a midnight blue dress that hugs my curves without being too obvious. The fabric feels cool against my still-flushed skin as I apply makeup, trying to disguise the love-bitten look that screams “thoroughly fucked.”
My reflection stares back at me, eyes too bright, lips still slightly swollen from Luca’s kisses. I look different somehow. Claimed.
The dinner gong sounds, and my stomach lurches. I take one last look in the mirror, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself. “Just act normal until he gets here.”
The grand staircase feels a mile long as I descend, my hand trailing along the polished banister. I can hear my father’s booming laugh from the dining room, the clink of expensive crystal. Just another political dinner at the governor’s mansion. Except tonight, everything will change.
“There she is!” Dad’s voice rings out as I enter. He crosses the room to kiss my cheek, whiskey on his breath. “My beautiful girl. How was the spa day with your mother?"
“Enlightening,” I manage, avoiding Mom’s gaze.
“You look lovely, darling,” he says, guiding me toward the table where several men in suits are already seated. “Come meet Senator Bradshaw and his chief of staff.”
I shake hands mechanically, smiling and nodding at all the right moments while my mind races ahead. When will Luca arrive? What will he say? How will my father react?
“Lily, the senator was just asking about your studies,” Dad prompts, his hand squeezing my shoulder a little too tightly.
“Oh, I?—”
The doorbell chimes, cutting me off. Every nerve in my body goes electric. He’s here.
Dad frowns. “Are we expecting someone else, Jill?”
Mom looks equally confused. “Not that I’m aware of.”
The butler appears at the doorway. “Sir, Mr. Luca Ravello is here to see you. He says it’s a matter of some urgency.”
My father’s expression shifts from annoyed to intrigued in an instant. Luca Ravello doesn’t make social calls, especially not during dinner hour. His presence means business—usually the kind that involves large campaign donations.
“Show him in, Phillips,” Dad says, straightening his tie. “Gentlemen, this is an unexpected pleasure. Ravello is one of our state’s most prominent businessmen and philanthropists.”
I can’t breathe. My hands are trembling so badly that I have to clasp them in my lap. The room seems to tilt slightly as footsteps approach.
And then he’s there, filling the doorway with his imposing height, those piercing blue eyes immediately finding mine across the room. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored black suit that makes him look even more devastatingly handsome than I remembered. His mouth quirks up in that secret smile meant only for me.
“Governor Moore,” Luca says, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “Forgive the intrusion. I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t important.”
Dad rises, extending his hand. “Ravello! Always a pleasure. Join us for dinner?”
