Page 52 of Hard Lessons

“Since when did we ever use an orange bathroom with green tiles and threadbare towels?”

“Since now.” He looked around as if seeing the room for the first time. “Since this became the place I made you see sense.”

“Sense!” She snapped the plug’s chain and a gurgle chugged up from the base of the tub. “You’re the one who needs to see sense.”

“We’ll see.” He reached for another towel. “Here, dry off. I’ll go make us a hot drink.”

Serena glared at him as he left the room. He really was on a different planet to her when it came to what he thought was going to happen here.

Make her see sense. As if.

Serena dried off then sought out her robe and added a slick of moisturizer to her face. She couldn’t find her brush, which had been beside the bed.

When she went into the living room, the scent of coffee was welcoming.

“Sit.” Luca gestured to a soft bucket chair he’d pulled up to the fire. On it was a cushion with an image of a pheasant. “Your coffee is there.”

“Thanks.” She reached for it and sat beside the fire, which was now roaring, orange flames licking upward and dancing in the wind whistling down the chimney. “Is the weather always like this in Scotland?”

“No idea. Never been here before.”

He sipped his coffee then reached for her brush on the table by the window. “Here, let me.”

She didn’t comment as he began to brush her hair with tender strokes, teasing out the knots and tangles.

Without her realizing, a long low sigh breezed from her chest. With it went the stress of running, of him catching her. The fight.

His hands on her, the tender way he touched her, cared for her. It was a balm to her nerves. As she sipped her coffee she could almost forgive him for his bombastic, infuriating ways.

“When I was behind bars I thought of your hair often,” he said quietly. “The way it looks spread on the pillow as you sleep. How you pile it high to show off your beautiful neck.” He paused. “The way it tightens around my fingers when we’re fucking and I pull your head back.”

As if to prove the point, he fisted her hair, contracting his fingers and tugging the roots.

She gasped, a strange loss of focus coming to her eyes, as if her vision was swimming. It was such a possessive hold, one that in the past had told her an orgasm was coming. That her man was claiming her. Taking what he wanted and giving them both what they wanted.

“Luca!”

“That’s right—Luca. The only name you’ll ever gasp. You’re mine, Serena, so now say you’re sorry for running from the cottage.”

She pressed her lips together to hold the apology in. It was right there, stacked up on her tongue. But she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Not after what he’d done yesterday. Taking her the way he had.

“I mean it, now. Say you’re sorry.”

“No.” She clenched her fists.

His fingers contracted further in her hair. “Do you want me to add another hundred spanks to the two hundred you’ve still got coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll do whatever the fuck you want, the way you always do.” She paused. “I thought you fucked me as punishment for running.”

Wasn’t that what he’d said?

“I did but I want an apology too.” He’d tipped his head, his mouth by her ear. “Say sorry and we can move forward.”

“To the other penances you have in store.”

“I won’t say it again.” His voice was low and dangerous. “You have five seconds.”

She set her cup aside, clamped her lips and folded her arms, despite the fact her scalp was smarting.

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