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And as she sat in her economy seat and stared out the window, she tried to come to a place of acceptance with the fact that she was never going to see Luca Salvatore ever again.
CHAPTER SIX
OBSESSION WAS LUCA’S strength and weakness. It was what enabled him to put his head down and work tirelessly to find a solution to whatever problem was pressing against him in the world of medicine. It was what had delivered his success to him—both financial, and in terms of scientific discovery.
It was also what crippled him now.
He could think of nothing but her. After launching the greatest medical discovery of his career, he could not think of medicine. He could think only of Polly.
It was unacceptable. Never in his life had a woman bewitched him so. Never had a woman commanded his mind and his body in such a fashion. It should not be so. And yet it was.
He could not account for why he was so obsessed with her. It had been sex. Nothing more. It was extremely common for him to not be able to remember the physical details of his lovers after the fact. He could remember the rush of release, but not the specifics. His brain simply released them, because they were not important.
The details of Polly’s body, of the way she had cried out his name, the way that she had clung to him, haunted him.
He could not forget.
He had never wanted to forget quite so much.
He cursed his brain, and the way that it was put together, which was not something he had done since he was a very small child.
He had taken all of his weaknesses and turned them into strengths. He had dominion over them. Except in this. Except with her.
It was good that she was gone. It was good that she had gone to Milan, to marketing. And he had done as he had promised. He had written the most sterling recommendation letter for any person that had ever existed. Because he was a man of his word.
He was. In spite of what she thought about him. In spite of what she had said about him seeing her only as a thing.
He fought the urge to sweep everything off of his desk. His brain was cluttered, and his surroundings were not, and yet, he found that everything bothered him right now. Even his notebooks.
Because of her. This was all because of her. Her breasts, her lips. Everything. The way that she cried out his name, the way that she had clung to him after.
Then she had run away.
Her audacity. She could have stayed.
Yes, he had told her that she would have to make her own way home, but clearly in the aftermath of their sexual encounter, he wouldn’t have held her to that.
Clearly.
Clearly.
But then, she didn’t want to feel anything for him. She thought the absolute worst of him. And perhaps he had no right to feel unhappy about that. He found that he did. He swept his notebooks onto the floor, picked up his coffee cup and threw it at the wall. It broke. The mess was not satisfying. The broken mug was not satisfying.
Nothing was Polly.
Nothing did anything to ease the ache inside of him, not even his research. If he saw her again he would...
Why leave it to chance? He should offer her her job back. Offer her twice the amount of money. He couldn’t function without her. It had been eight weeks. And he was no closer to feeling like he could manage himself than he had been when she left.
Yes.
He would go to Milan and offer her her job back. He would not call. He would show up in person. And then he would be able to work out his obsession with her easily. Because she would not be a fantasy living like a ghost all around him at all times.
She would be back in her physical form. And she would be his assistant again. Which would put up a barrier.
That was the problem. The lack of rules surrounding Polly anymore meant that his mind was free to dwell on the sex. He would simply restore her as his assistant and all would be well. Yes. That’s what he would do.
He had chartered his private plane for Milan only moments later.