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Frustration slithers through my chest. "You don't get it. I don't want a pretend marriage, Luca."

"I already said this marriage will be real in every way." He lets go of my hand and shoves the driver's side door open.

I have zero appetite, and the last thing I want to do right now is have dinner. Climbing out of the car, I slam the door shut, my eyes burning on Luca as he stalks around the front of the G-Wagon.

His features are tight with anger, his irises dark as night. "You want romance, I'll give you fucking romance," he mutters right before his arm wraps around my lower back, and my body's yanked flush with his.

My hands quickly find his shoulders, then I'm stunned out

of my mind as his head lowers. When I feel his breath on my

lips, his eyes bore into mine with so much intensity I forget

how to breathe.

Sweet Jesus.

Luca lifts his other hand and weaves his fingers into my hair, and the moment is so damn intense I can't even move as he closes the last of the distance and claims my mouth.

I swear the ground quakes beneath my feet. My thoughts and emotions instantly spiral into a chaotic mess.

There's not a single drop of willpower in me to push him away. Instead, my lips part, and the moment his tongue strokes

hard against mine, the ground gives way beneath me, and I fall into everything he makes me feel.

There's only the scent of his masculine aftershave, the feel of his lips, the sound of our breaths.

I've spent endless nights dreaming about Luca kissing me. Nothing prepared me for the real thing.

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