Page 22 of Unrelenting (Ruthless Temptations #1)

TWENTY

Lucia

After hearing nothing from Lorenzo over the past week, apart from the occasional text, I should be mad as hell when he shows up at my apartment. But I can’t bring myself to slam the door in his face.

He looks kind of cute in an I Heart New York baseball cap and a Paris, Je t’aime t-shirt worn under his signature black leather jacket.

If those weren’t enough of a clue to where he’s been, then the Saks Fifth Avenue bag and box of La Duree macarons he’s carrying would point me in the right direction.

“Nice outfit.”

Lorenzo grins. “I thought you’d appreciate it.” He leans in to kiss my cheek. “Did you miss me?”

“Not even a little.” I stand aside to let him in.

“Liar.” He treats me to a boyish grin as he heads for the living room. “I went to the restaurant. Stefan said you were taking the night off. You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, just tired.”

The past couple of days the long hours in the restaurant have been getting to me more than usual. I feel washed out. Perhaps I’m coming down with something.

“Has something happened while I was away?” Lorenzo looks concerned.

“No. It’s been quiet.” That, in itself, worries me a little. I haven’t heard anything more from that creepy lawyer but I know he’ll be back. “There’s nothing for you to worry about, Lorenzo. I’ve just been working too hard. Suki put her foot down and sent me home.”

My second in command can be really bossy when she wants to be. She was worried about me, but I know she also wants the chance to run the restaurant without me looking over her shoulder.

“I brought you something.” Lorenzo hands me the black bag and the box of macarons.

“I love La Duree.”

“Me too. You should probably eat the pistachio ones before I get my hands on them.”

Grinning at the thought of having to fight him for the pistachio macarons, I open the Saks bag and peak inside to find a skimpy black lace garment. I take it out of the bag and examine it.

“A teddy?” It’s beautiful but definitely designed to reveal more than it conceals. “It seems you like things spicy as well as sweet.”

“Damn right I do.” Lorenzo shrugs off his jacket and sits on the sofa, leaving room for me. “You can model it for me later.”

I don’t sit next to him, but choose the armchair instead. “Let’s see how this evening goes.”

“Sure.” If Lorenzo is put out that I don’t sit next to him, he doesn’t show it. “Do you want to order pizza and watch a movie?”

“Only if you want to tell me why it was okay to walk out on me at your mother’s house.”

“I will, but let’s order the pizza first.”

As much as I love a pizza with prosciutto and arugula, the thought of eating that doesn’t appeal right now.

“Actually, I’d prefer Chinese food tonight.”

“That’s good for me. Tell me what you want and I’ll send Daniele to get it.”

“The place I like has an app. We can order on that.”

Lorenzo shakes his head. “No, I don’t want a credit card with my name on it linked to your address.”

I know it’s not because he’s worried about my reputation. He doesn’t want anyone to come to my apartment looking for him.

Though I think he’s being overly cautious, I appreciate it’s a way of keeping his business away from me.

“I can pay for it, and you can send me the money.”

“No. I don’t want some stranger coming to your apartment. I’ll send Daniele.”

As he takes his phone from his pocket, I throw my hands in the air.

“Okay, then. Tell him to get some Sichuan beef, dumplings, tofu with preserved eggs.”

“What the fuck is tofu with preserved eggs?” Lorenzo grimaces as if he can already taste something he doesn’t like.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it.” I’m not so sure he will but I’m going to make him try some all the same. “Ask him to get some chicken with chili, Char Sui pork, fried rice and some noodles. You pick which kind.”

Lorenzo looks up from the message he’s writing to Daniele and raises his eyebrows. “You want to leave some food for the rest of the city?”

I snort indignantly. “It’s for us to share. I like a little taste of different things. Whatever’s left over, I’ll bring down to Maurizio.”

Lorenzo smirks, like he knows I’m trying to get a rise out of him. “Who’s Maurizio? Some stray dog you feed?”

“No, he’s the guy in the apartment below.”

His grin falters. “You want to take food I paid for down to some other guy?”

“Yeah. He gives me gifts all the time. You see those roses.” I point to the vase on the table in the corner. “He gave me those.”

“Did he now?”

“Yes, and he asks me to dinner at least once a week. I think he likes me.”

“Is that so?” Lorenzo snarls. It seems I’ve flipped his caveman switch.

“Mmm-hmm.” I relish the darkening look on Lorenzo’s face. He really is a possessive asshole. “Of course, he’s not really my type. I’m not into nonagenarians with mobility issues.”

As I laugh, Lorenzo blows out a breath. “I am so going to spank your ass for that later.”

“I might let you,” I say as he finishes sending his message to Daniele. “But first you need to explain what happened the other day.”

“Okay. Have you got any wine?”

“Does this conversation require wine?”

Lorenzo raises one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Most conversations are better with wine.”

If a glass of wine is what it takes to get him to open up to me, I’m happy to oblige. I get up and go through to the kitchen.

There are six bottles on my wine rack, three each of two different varieties that a sales rep gave me to try in the hopes I’d offer them at the restaurant.

“I have a very fine Merlot,” I say, popping my head through the door to the living room, “or a Chenin Blanc.”

Lorenzo wrinkles up his nose. “Nothing local?”

“You own a vineyard. If you want something local, bring your own bottle next time.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Pick whichever you prefer.”

I grab a bottle of Merlot, two glasses and a corkscrew. A full-bodied red wine should help us relax. I take the bottle through to Lorenzo and hand it to him along with the corkscrew.

“You do the honors.” I place the glasses on the table in front of him and take a seat on the opposite end of the sofa to him, drawing my legs up under me to make myself comfortable.

Lorenzo uncorks the bottle and sniffs it suspiciously before nodding as if he’s decided it’s passable. He pours two glasses and hands one to me.

“A toast.” He raises his glass. “To the most beautiful woman in Italy.”

“Not the world?” I form my lips into a petulant pout.

Lorenzo grins. “I never realized what a fiend you are for compliments.”

“A girl likes to know she’s special.” I sip the wine and shudder. “Oh, is it off?”

Sniffing his wine, Lorenzo shakes his head, then drinks a little. “Tastes fine to me.”

“You’re sure it’s not sour?”

“I don’t think so.” Lorenzo furrows his brow as he looks at me with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” I set my glass down on the coffee table. “So, tell me what happened at your mother’s house. Is she ill?”

“Marco didn’t tell you anything when he took you home?”

“Oh, he told me lots, mainly about tennis. I now know more about Matteo Berrettini than I ever needed to.”

“Marco is passionate about his sports. Just be glad he didn’t get around to talking about football. He’s a Lazio supporter.”

Lorenzo’s shudder of horror tells me he’s probably an AS Roma fan but I don’t want to discuss sports right now.

“Remind me to never ask him about that.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Now, stop trying to distract me and tell me about the other day.”

“Lucia….”

“No, Lorenzo. If this is going to work between us, you have to talk to me.”

He narrows his eyes. “You know, that goes both ways, Lucia.”

“I know, but I promise there’s nothing to tell. I’ve had too many late nights at the restaurant, that’s all.” I smile to reassure him. “Now, tell me about your mother. Is she ill?”

Lorenzo nods and shakes his head at the same time as if he’s unsure how to answer. “She’s fragile.” He draws in a deep breath. “You’ve heard the rumors about how my father died.”

“That Damiano killed him so he could take over?”

“That’s only partly true. Damiano killed him but it was because our father was an abusive asshole. He beat our mother so badly she ended up on life support.”

“Oh, god, Lorenzo. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs as if he doesn’t need pity. “She was unconscious for a time and when she woke she wasn’t the same. She’s forgetful, easily confused. There are days when she can’t get out of bed without one of the staff cajoling her. She gets terrible headaches, you know the ones with the….”

He gestures with his hand, waving it around his eye.

“An aura?” I suggest.

“Yes, an aura. She also has days when she barely eats or drinks.”

“I had no idea.” The woman I saw appeared a little frail, and it was clear she was forgetful since she kept asking about Gabriele, but I didn’t think much of it.

“She was in one of her brighter moods yesterday. She enjoyed meeting you, but then she started thinking about Gabriele.”

“He hasn’t visited her in a while?”

Lorenzo presses his lips together. He’s clearly angry with his brother. “Months.”

I’m not sure whether to ask him about Gabriele but I guess if he doesn’t want to talk, he can tell me so.

“Is it true your brother was badly injured?”

“Yes. He was ambushed one night. Two of the cowards held him while the other cut him with a broken bottle. His face is…” Lorenzo closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. “He was the pretty one among us, the one the girls flocked to.”

Looking at Lorenzo and even the darkly handsome Damiano, it’s hard to imagine their brother was any better looking than they are.

“Anyway,” Lorenzo continues, “I went to see him after I left you, to tell him he needs to visit Mamma.”

It’s apparent from the tension in his shoulders that his encounter with his brother didn’t go well. “Is he not going to go see her?”

“No and worse than that he refused to see me. He left me standing outside like some delivery boy.”

The sadness in Lorenzo’s eye as he thinks about his brother is devastating.

“I’m sorry, Lorenzo. Families suck sometimes.”

He gulps down the rest of his wine and refills the glass. “Does your family suck?”

“No, mine are great. My dad’s an engineer and my mom’s a graphic designer. They live in Berlin.”

“Yes, you mentioned visiting them there.”

I smile, pleased Lorenzo remembered that. “I have two sisters. Allegra lives in Sicily with her husband. She’s an architect, and Fabiano does something in town planning. Sofia teaches high school math in Bologna.”

“Such a normal family,” Lorenzo says.

“Yes, we’re pretty boring.”

He shakes his head. “Normal isn’t boring.” He sets down his wineglass. “Tell me about you and Adriano Rossini. How did you end up going out a man like him?”

The question surprises me. I don’t remember telling Lorenzo about my relationship with Adriano but it isn’t exactly a secret. A lot of people know we were together.

As much as I hate talking about Adriano I guess I have to since Lorenzo shared painful details of his family life with me.

“We were in the same class at high school.”

“You were high school sweethearts?” Lorenzo asks.

“No, but school is how we knew each other. We met again at my twenty-first birthday celebrations. I’d just got back from studying in England. We ended up dating for a couple of years.”

“Until he got arrested?” Lorenzo asks.

“Yeah. He stabbed some poor kid in a nightclub, jumped him from behind. It was a cowardly thing to do.” For some reason that has always bothered me more than Adriano almost killing a complete stranger.

There’s something deeply dishonorable about the way he acted.

“There was no way I could be with him after that.”

What I don’t tell him is that Adriano had tried to convince me to lie for him, to say the kid had assaulted me and he was only defending me.

It wouldn’t have worked. I wasn’t even at the club that night. The prosecutors would have seen the lie for what it was and I’d have ended up being charged with obstructing justice or perjury, or something.

Lorenzo looks pensive. “You know I’m no saint, Lucia. I’ve committed many violent acts.”

“And I’m not okay with that, but I accept it’s a part of your life.”

“Why?” Lorenzo tilts his head to the side as he searches my eyes for an answer. “Why is it okay for me but not for Rossini?”

“I don’t know. I guess I like you better.”

Unlike Adriano, he’s not a petty thug and Lorenzo has never given me cause to think he would hurt me. Adriano never put his hands on me during our relationship, but his temper scared me.

Lorenzo nods. He looks like he wants to probe further but thankfully the buzzer for the apartment rings.

“That will be Daniele with the food.”

As Lorenzo gets up and goes to answer the door, I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption.

A frightening realization hits me. I don’t just like Lorenzo better, I love him. How the hell have I let this happen?