Page 31 of Hard Lessons

“I... oh...”

Luca must have put the pedal to the metal because the BMW took to the main road at a roar, sliding between other cars into the fast lane then whizzing up to a hundred miles an hour.

His eyes were visible in the rearview mirror, a lock of his dark hair hanging in front of his right one and his eyebrows pulled low. They were thin slits, his eyes, so dark they appeared bottomless.

Serena squirmed.

She was alone with Luca Morretti.

At his mercy.

Worse than that, she was at the mercy of his fury. Oh, he could get rough and tough with the best of them, but that was business. This was something entirely different. This was her. This was his heart, his pride...

I’ll swallow blood before I swallow my pride.

She was reminded of his tattoo and leaned to see it. He was gripping the steering wheel.

Yep, there it was. On his beautiful body. His arms were so thick and strong. Clearly prison hadn’t stopped him from working out. If anything he was more beefed up than when he’d gone in. Wider and more solid.

“You might as well settle in for the ride,” he said, glancing in the mirror and his gaze connecting with hers.

“I don’t want to go on any damn ride.” She tugged at her hands. They were expertly bound. She had no chance of getting free.

“Tough. You’re on it.” Luca paused. “We’ll be late, after midnight most likely.”

“Why the heck are we going to Scotland?”

“As Paulo said, it will suit our needs.”

“Wedon’t have any needs.Ineed to get to the airport.”

“You might as well give up on that, Serena, it’s not happening. No airport for you, not today, tomorrow, or the next day.”

“You can’t just take me like this. Against my will.” She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

“Clearly I can and I have.” He reached for the radio and flicked it on. “Now be quiet. I want to enjoy my first hour of freedom.”

Serena glared at the back of his head. How the hell had he got out a week early? Had Giovanni pulled strings? Had her brother known and if so why hadn’t he told her?

I should have left London months ago.

She mentally kicked herself. But her friend Karen had had an extravagant baby shower, plus the summer sales had been on, oh, and the Caravaggio exhibition at the Tate. That was the trouble with London, there was always something happening.

Staring out of the window, she beat down the rising sense of panic that was now warring with her anger. What did Luca have planned for her in Scotland? She’d bet the hundred thousand pounds in her bags that it wasn’t to go for a romantic stroll in the Highlands, or take in the sights of Edinburgh and Loch Lomond.

Green hills rolled into the distance, road signs for places she’d heard of but never been to slipped past. The sun started to dip to the west, shadows stretching over the hills and the traffic thinning.

Eventually Luca spoke again. “You hungry?”

“No.”

“Why lie?”

“I’m not. I don’t want food.”

“It’s been hours. It’s time for you to eat.” He indicated and took a slip road toward a sign for Leeds.

“And you don’t think someone might wonder what the heck is going on when you take a woman with her hands bound into a restaurant?”

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