Promised For Truce

Chapter 18

The humming of a song ceased at the feel of Luciano's clean cuffs, the fabric comfortably hot from the iron. Last time she had seen the dress shirt, blood soaked the white into a red. Nina shook the memories away from that night at the hospital. She continued hanging the other ironed clothes on the rack and sang to the music playing in her head.

Nina had a good idea about what occurred during their hospital visit. After all, ever since, the streets had been quiet without a single Irish soul prowling around.

"You never fail to let me know where you are."

Nina snapped her mouth shut as soon as she heard him and prayed for her blush to die out.

I want to disappear. Forever if possible. More importantly, what is up with his timing? Does he have some sort of radar that tells him when I sing and snort like a pig?

"How else are you supposed to find me in this maze of a house? I do it on purpose."

Luciano left the door of the dressing room open, moved to stand next to Nina and put his heavy watch with the rest of his collection.

"Is that so?" he said with a faint lilt. "Is your blushing also on purpose? Because if so then I applaud you for it."

Nina returned her focus on sorting her husband's clothes, not wanting to indulge in his attempt to make her feel even more flustered. Instead, she casually remarked on how early he had come home. Nina began turning her head to face him but suspended the movement when she saw him undressing.

Toned muscles. Dark hairs dusted on his chest. Veins snaking down his arms.

"Yes, I am," he drawled and threw his black dress shirt on the pearl-grey ottoman bench. "Do you want a greeting kiss?"

The fingers on Nina's chin demanded she looked at him. His tone conveyed his suggestion to be half-hearted, just like every other time he proposed they do anything remotely sensual. Always expecting the answer to be the same. No. Luciano's body language betrayed the front he put up. It could easily be overlooked but he had turned toward her, his head tilting by a margin to catch her flowery scent.

Nina's heart fluttered in her throat, her cheeks once again warming. Her voice seemingly trapped inside her mouth.

"You do," he said as he noticed the cracking of her mask. Luciano diminished the empty space between them and let his touch trail the outline of her jawline. "Then what's holding you back? You already did it once before."

I'm not sure. What do I even look like through your eyes? You look disappointed with me. Am I right? I know I'm not what you want me to be but I don't know how to change. I don't know where to begin. I'm a failure – one with no spine but pretend to have one.

His left arm rested against the wall, supporting his weight and partly trapping her. "You're quiet, Nina."

When the skin around her jaw became colder and her throat heated, Nina's breath hitched. Luciano's hand acted as a velvet band; heat searing into her from the contact. While his grip was loose, he could still feel her swallowing.

"What do you want me to say?"

"You should know by now." His caress shifted to the valley between her breasts and ended at her waist.

The movement was slow and charged – excruciatingly so. Tingles spread around the places he had touched her.

"I don't think my thoughts will pique your interest."

"I'm sure they will."

"I'd prefer not to waste your time with them."

A low laugh passed by his lips, completely and utterly devoid of any mirth. "Whatever it is that is going around that pretty little head of yours, you're doing it to yourself."