Page 72 of Racing Hearts
“I probably shouldn’t say,” I said, leaning forward like I was about to whisper a scandalous secret. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass Luca.”
“Oh, come on,” Mark groaned. “You have to tell me.”
“Well,” I paused for dramatic effect. “MyItalianboyfriendlovesmac and cheese.”
Mark gasped in horror, and I just nodded enthusiastically at him, enjoying the moment a little too much.
“From a box,” I added in a whisper.
Luca approached, a mock-betrayed look on his face. “Amore, please tell me I didn’t just overhear you telling Mark that I lovemac and cheese.” Giggling, I lifted my cheek up for a kiss, which he aptly provided.
“Your girlfriend was just telling us about how you guys make homemade pasta together in your free time,” Mark added, no doubt looking for Luca’s reaction to see if he would be surprised at that comment.
“Well, let’s hope she told you off the record. I don’t think my Italian fans would appreciate knowing I think boxed pasta is homemade,” he quipped, winking at the journalist.
“A couple who cooks together, stays together, my mum used to say,” Mark said cheerfully. “So, Luca, how is it dating your teammate’s sister? Any arguments yet?”
Luca’s lips twitched—just for a second—before he masked it with a charming smile. But I caught it, caught the slight uncomfortableness in his posture.
Had Henri said something?
“Honestly, no,” he said with a refreshing laugh. “I’m almost surprised at how supportive he is of our relationship. Sometimes it seems suspicious.”
“Oh?” Mark asked, his interest clearly piqued by Luca’s last statement.
“He’s just always asking about what dates we’ll go on next and telling me about all the cute things Georgia sends him about me.” I felt myself dying a bit inside, but I batted my eyelashes at him playfully, keeping the bit alive. “I once joked that Georgia must have a ton of skeletons in her closet, because why else is her brother pushing her on me?”
Mark snorted, scribbling that gem down. I tried not to look horrified.
“Henri didn’t find it quite as funny,” Luca added innocently.
“Alright, kids, let’s finish strong. Time to get into the last rounds of clothing!” Lilah called out.
A stylist handed me the final look of the day, a tiny black evening dress with a plunging back. Luca was in another crisp designer suit, this one with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down, revealing his obnoxiously tan, sculpted chest.
“Lovely, lovely,” Lilah called out, “but let’s try something a little different. Have a little fun. Georgia, show us your back. Luca, hand on her lower back. Eyes on each other. Intimate. Romantic.”
I felt Luca grip my lower back tightly and look down at me with those gorgeous brown eyes. He pulled me closer to him, my body now flush with his front, my hands on his chest. Suddenly, this photo shoot felt a lot more intimate than I had anticipated. I caught his eye, and instead of the smug grin I expected, he gave me the softest smile.
Then he leaned down, voice low and sinfully smug. “Why so shy,amore? You weren’t this shy Sunday night.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue while my brain short-circuited just long enough for the photographer to call out, “Lovely, Georgia. Much better, you look so relaxed.”
My face flushed, my shoulders loosened. Luca Rossi, master of mind games. Luca knew exactly what he was doing. He’d seen the tension in my shoulders, the nerves in my fingers, and he cut straight through them with one devastating line.
Well, two could play that game.
I’m not sure what came over me, but all I wanted was to wipe that satisfied smirk off his face, and there was only one way I could think of doing that.
Luca froze for half a second. Then, he kissed me back like he’d been waiting all damn day for me to do it. His hands slipped lower, grazing the top of my ass, and the room erupted into delighted chaos. Cheering, clapping, camera shutters firing like fireworks. So much for subtlety.
And then, because Luca Rossi is incapable of acting normal for more than five seconds, he picked me up. Bridal style.
I screeched, grabbing at his lapels and praying to every deity that my dress hadn’t ridden halfway up my back. He kissed me again, slower now, deeper. The kind of kiss that made time bend a little, that made the lights dim and the sound fade, like we were the only two people in the world.
“Alright, you two lovebirds!” Lilah called out. “That’s a wrap!”
Luca set me back down, and I toppled as I tried to steady myself. My cheeks were undoubtedly flushed from the long make-out session—and the embarrassment of how public it was.
