Page 30 of Sins of the Father
He didn’t want to get used to it. He wanted to keep it, hoard it, even twist it if he must.
When she glanced back at him, eyes gleaming in the moonlight, Luc felt that same dangerous pull again—the one that whispered he could almost believe in the illusion of a wife, a home, a family that wasn’t carved out of blood and power.
Almost.
But illusions shattered, and he had long ago vowed never to bleed for one.
Luc caught up to her, and without hesitation, she slipped her hand into his. He stilled at the unexpected intimacy. When she glanced up, amusement danced in her dark-blue eyes.
“Relax,” she drawled. “This isn’t the love bug. Your hand is just warm.”
Amusement flickered through him despite himself, though her unguarded touch made him wonder what madness had driven him to let her in that far.
Mia faltered, head tilting. From farther down the beach came a burst of laughter—animated, youthful. “Is that Gabriella?”
“Sounds like it.” Luc’s gaze narrowed into the distance, though the figures were little more than shadows against the sand. Tension hummed through him as he tugged Mia deeper into the shadows, guiding her toward the sound. She didn’t question him, though her hand stiffened in his.
Gabriella walked beside one of her university friends, their laughter spilling into the night—reckless dares, wild escapades, the kind of carefree rebellion only possible for those untouched by consequence. Behind them, Carlos followed—silent, steady, watching. Luc’s eyes sharpened. He saw the way Carlos’s fingers twitched when Gabriella stumbled in the sand, how his jaw flexed when she teased about sneaking into an underground club in Naples. That wasn’t vigilance—it was possession. And that was a problem. A bodyguard’s loyalty should never turn into a man’s hunger.
Carlos had been Gabriella’s shadow since she was sixteen, assigned by Luc himself after an attempted kidnapping. Back then, his watchfulness had been purely professional. Now, Luc caught the lingering gaze at the curve of her neck—the hunger barely concealed beneath duty.
Luc’s grip tightened unconsciously around Mia’s hand. She gave a soft gasp. He ignored it, a cold fury coiling in his gut. He had trusted Carlos with his life, with his family’s lives. But trust in their world was a currency, and Carlos was spending it recklessly.
Gabriella was young, naïve. She didn’t understand that in their world, affection was just another kind of leash—the same one his mother urged him to fasten around Mia. But Luc refused to let his cousin be bound by anyone before her worth to the family was secured. Gabriella’s marriage would be an alliance, one that strengthened their reach. And if Carlos’s devotion threatened that, Luc would cut it out at the root. Luc’s gaze flicked to Mia, who was staring up at him with wide, questioning eyes, her expression unreadable in the silver wash of moonlight.
“Should they not be together?” she asked softly.
His gaze sharpened. “Is his attachment that obvious?”
Something unreadable flickered in her eyes before she turned back toward Gabriella and Carlos.
“No, of course not.”
Luc’s jaw tightened. He lifted his other hand, closing it around Mia’s neck in a ruthless clasp that made her go still beneath his touch. The fragile flutter of her pulse beat against his fingers like a bird’s wings caught in a snare.
“Do not ever seek to protect another man again,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“Oh.” Mia’s lips curved, startling him with the beauty of that small smile. “Are you supposed to fall in love as well?”
The words struck him like a blade between the ribs. He had not expected her to answer, much less with that bold, cutting softness.
That small smile lingered on her mouth, brazen despite his grip on her throat. As if she didn’t realize he could snap her neck as easily as a twig—or worse, as if shedidrealize and refused to flinch.
“I read somewhere,” she murmured, dark blue eyes glinting with reckless courage. “That jealousy is born of love—and that obsession and fury follow close behind. Since you’re furious that I defended a man I barely know… is it jealousy?”
Luc released her as if her words had burned through his skin. His chest heaved once, twice, battling the chaos unraveling inside him. Jealousy. Love. Words that belonged to weaker men, simpler lives. And yet—before he could stop himself—he yanked her against him, crushing her softness to the hard planes of his body. His mouth took hers in a violent, hungry claim. The kiss began as punishment, brutal and unyielding, but it shifted—deeper, hotter—until it became something raw, consuming, and dangerously close to need. Mia’s breath caught against his lips. For one heartbeat, she resisted, then she yielded, her arms winding around his shoulders, returning his kiss with an enthusiasm that made his blood pound hot and vicious through his veins.
Luc crushed his mouth against hers, heat igniting between them until thought itself burned away. She melted into him, arms winding around his neck, and he surrendered to the hunger clawing inside him. With a rough growl, he lifted her easily, her legs locking around his hips as if they belonged there. The rawness of it—her body pressed tight to his, every inch of her heat against him—made his blood thunder. He started toward a lounge chair, every step steeped in dark intent, when Mia broke the kiss. Breathless and trembling, she pressed her lips to his once more and whispered, “I would like to be married first.”
Luc stilled, the words slicing through the haze of lust.Married first. That absurd, delicate sensitivity could only have been bred in convent walls. A harsh laugh rumbled in his chest, though not aloud. Was he truly expected to wait? The thought almost amused him. Another part of him, darker and less patient, found it absurd. Would heaven itself strike him down if he claimed her before vows were spoken? Or if he simply took what was already his by right? She belonged to him. He could do as he pleased.
Then her fingers brushed his mouth—light, tentative, searching—as if she were trying to know him through touch alone. In the dark, her eyes lifted to his, unguarded and luminous. “I want you,” she confessed, her voice trembling but resolute. “I cannot hide from that knowledge. I have never desired anyone before you, Luc.”
Her throat worked on a swallow, her heart hammering against her ribs with such force he could feel it against his chest.
“I know you could ignore whatever I say, dismiss it as nothing… but I want to wait until our wedding night.”
For the first time in his life, Luc relented. He set her down carefully, his hands lingering at her waist, branding her with his restraint.
