I walked farther into the apartment and tilted my head up. Glass banisters allowed a clear view of the upper floor: a bright gallery with several doors branching off of it.
An open kitchen took up the left side of the living area, and a massive black dining table marked the border between dining and living area. I could feel Luca’s eyes on me as I took everything in, approaching the windows and peering out. I’d never lived in an apartment; even a roof garden didn’t change the fact that it was a prison that rose high above the city streets.
“Your things are in the bedroom upstairs. Marianna wasn’t sure if you wanted to put them away yourself, so she left them in your suitcases.”
“Who’s Marianna?”
Luca came up behind me. Our gazes met in the reflection in the window. “She’s my housekeeper. She’s here a couple of days per week.”
I wondered if she was also his mistress. Some men in our world actually dared to insult their wives by bringing their whores into their own home. “How old is she?”
Luca’s lips twitched. “Are you jealous?” He rested his hands on my hips and I tensed. He didn’t pull away, but I could see anger crossing his face. But I also noted that he didn’t answer my question.
I stepped out of his hold and headed for a glass door leading out onto the roof garden. I turned to Luca. “Can I go outside?”
His jaw was tight. He wasn’t stupid. He had noticed how quickly I’d shaken off his touch. “This is your home now too.”
It didn’t feel that way. I wasn’t sure it ever would. I opened the door and stepped outside. It was windy, and distant honking carried up from the streets below. White lounge furniture took up the terrace, but beyond it a small well-kept garden stretched out toward a glass barrier. There was even a square in-ground Jacuzzi big enough for six people. Two sunchairs were set up beside it. I strode toward the edge of the garden and let my gaze wander over Central Park. It was a beautiful view.
“You’re not thinking about jumping, are you?” Luca asked, gripping the banister beside me.
I tilted my face up to him, trying to gauge if this was his attempt at humor. He looked serious. “Why would I kill myself?”
“Some women in our world see it as their only way to gain freedom. This marriage is your prison.”
I appraised the distance between the roof and the ground. Death was certain. But I’d never considered killing myself. Before doing that, I’d run. “I wouldn’t do that to my family. Lily, Fabi and Gianna would be heartbroken.”
Luca nodded. I couldn’t read his expression and it was driving me crazy. “Let’s go back inside,” he said, putting a hand on my lower back and steering me into the apartment. He closed the door, then turned back to me. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes, but I’ll be back in a few hours. I want to take you to my favorite restaurant for dinner.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Like a date?”
The corners of Luca’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “You could call it that. We haven’t been on a real date yet.” He wrapped an arm around my middle and pulled me against him. I froze, and the lightness disappeared from his eyes.
“When will you stop being afraid of me?”
“You don’t want me to be afraid of you?” I’d always thought it would make his life easier if I was terrified of him. Would make it easier to keep me in check.
Luca’s dark brows drew together. “You are my wife. We’ll spend our lives together. I don’t want a cowering woman at my side.”
That really surprised me. Mother loved Father, but she also feared him. “Are there people out there who don’t fear you?”
“A few,” he said before lowering his head and pressing his lips against mine. He kissed me without hurry until I relaxed under his touch and parted my lips for him. I raised my arm and hesitantly touched the back of his neck, my fingers brushing his hair. My other hand pressed against his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles. He pulled away.
“I have half a mind to cancel this fucking meeting.” He rubbed his thumb over my lips. “But there’s still more than enough time for this later.” He glanced at his watch. “I really need to go now. Romero will be here when I’m gone. Take your time to look around and make yourself comfortable.” With that, he headed for the door and left.
For a moment, I stared at the door, wondering if anyone would stop me if I walked out of this building. Instead I moved toward the staircase and walked up to the second floor. Only one of the white doors was ajar, and I pushed it open. The master bedroom opened up before me. As with the living area, an entire wall was made up of windows overlooking New York. The king-sized bed was facing them. I wondered how it would be to watch the sunrise from bed. The wall behind the bed was upholstered with black fabric. At the end of the room a doorway led into a walk-in closet, and to its right I could see a freestanding bathtub through the glass wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom.
I walked toward it. Even from the bathtub you could watch the city. Despite the glass wall, the washbasins and the shower weren’t visible from the bedroom, and the toilet was in its own small room.
“Aria?”
I gasped. My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly followed the voice and found Romero on the gallery, carrying my bags. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said when he saw my face. I nodded. “Where do you want
