Bound by Honor Page 32

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

Luca cancelled his plans for the next day and sent Matteo out to do whatever needed to be done. As a woman in our world, you quickly learned not to ask too many questions because the answers were rarely good.

Luca got ready first and when I walked into the kitchen dressed and showered¸ he was staring into the fridge with a frown on his face. “Can you cook?”

I snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never made breakfast for yourself?”

“I usually grab something on my way to work, except on the days when Marianna is here and prepares something for me.” His eyes scanned my body. I’d chosen shorts, a tanktop and sandals since it was supposed to get really hot today. “I love your legs.”

I shook my head, then walked toward him to peek into the fridge. He didn’t step back and our arms brushed. This time I managed not to flinch. His touch wasn’t uncomfortable and when he didn’t startle me, I could actually imagine enjoying it. The fridge was well stocked. The problem was I’d never cooked either, but I wouldn’t mention that to Luca. I grabbed the egg carton and red peppers, and set them down on the kitchen counter. It couldn’t be that hard to prepare an omelet. I’d watched our cook a few times in the past.

Luca leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as I grabbed a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Won’t you help me? You can chop the peppers. You know how to handle a knife from what I hear.”

That made the corners of his lips twitch but he pulled a knife out of the block and stepped up to my side. The top of my head came only up to his chest with my flat sandals. I had to admit I kind of liked it. I handed him the pepper and pointed toward a wooden cutting board because I got the feeling Luca would have started chopping right on the expensive black granite countertops. We worked in silence but Luca kept sneaking glances at me. I put a bit of butter into the pan, then seasoned the beaten eggs. I wasn’t sure if I needed to add milk or cream, but decided against it. I poured the eggs into the sizzling pan.

Luca pointed his knife at the chopped peppers. “What happens to these?”

“Shit,” I whispered. The peppers should have gone in first.

“Have you ever cooked?”

I ignored him and chucked the peppers into the pan with the eggs. I’d turned the stove to maximum heat and soon the hint of a burning smell reached my nose. I quickly grabbed a spatula and tried to flip the omelet over, but it stuck to the pan. Luca was watching me with a smirk.

“Why don’t you make coffee for us?” I snapped as I scraped the half burnt eggs from the bottom of the pan.

When I thought the eggs were safe to eat, I spooned them onto two plates. They didn’t really look all that tasty. Luca’s brows rose when I put a plate down in front of him. He sank down on the barstool and I hopped onto the one beside him. I watched him as he picked up the fork and speared a piece of egg, then brought it to his lips. He swallowed, but it was obvious he wasn’t too impressed. I took a bite as well and almost spat it back out. The eggs were too dry and too salty. I dropped my fork and gulped down half of my coffee, not even caring that it was hot and black. “Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”

There was a hint of amusement in Luca’s face. The more relaxed expression made him look so much more approachable. “Maybe we should go out for breakfast.”

I glowered at my coffee. “How hard can it be to make an omelet?”

Luca let out what might have been a laugh. Then his eyes flitted back down to my bare legs, which were almost touching his. He put his hand down on my knee and I froze with my cup against my lips. He didn’t do anything, just lightly traced his thumb back and forth over my skin. “What would you like to do today?”

I pondered that, even if his hand was very distracting. I was alternating between wanting to shove it off my knee and ask him to keep caressing me. “The morning after our wedding night, you asked me if I knew how to fight, so maybe you can teach me how to use a knife or a gun, and maybe some self-defense.”

Surprise crossed Luca’s face. “Thinking about using them against me?”

I huffed. “As if I could ever beat you in a fair fight.”

“I don’t fight fair.”

Of course he didn’t. “So will you teach me?”

“I want to teach you a lot of things.” His fingers tightened on my knee.

“Luca,” I said quietly. “I’m serious. I know I have Romero and you but I want to be able to defend myself if something happens. You said it yourself, the Bratva won’t care that I’m a woman.”

That got him. He nodded. “Okay. We have a gym where we work out and do fight training. We could go there.”

I smiled, excited about getting out of the penthouse and doing something useful. “I’ll grab my workout clothes.” I hopped off the stool and ran upstairs.

***

Thirty minutes later we parked in front of a shabby building. I was bursting with excitement, and I was glad to have something to distract myself from what had happened yesterday. Luca and I got out of the car and he carried our bags as we headed through a rusty steel door. Security cameras were everywhere and a middle-aged man sat in a nook that held a table and chair as well as a TV. Two guns were in his holster. He straightened when he saw Luca, then he spotted me and his eyes grew wide.

“My wife,” Luca said with a hint of warning and the man’s gaze jerked away from me. Luca put a hand on the small of my back and guided me through another door that led into a huge hall. There were a boxing ring, all kinds of exercise machines, dummies for fight and knife training, and a corner with mats where a few man were sparring. I was the only woman.

Luca grimaced. “Our changing rooms are men only. We don’t usually have female visitors.”

“I know you’ll make sure nobody sees me naked.”

“You bet I will.”

I laughed, and a few faces turned our way, then more until everyone was staring. They quickly returned to what they’d been doing before when Luca led me toward a door on the side, but they kept throwing badly disguised glances my way. A few of the older men called out a greeting to Luca. He opened the door, then stopped. “Let me check if someone’s in there.” I nodded, then leaned against the wall as Luca disappeared inside the changing room. The moment he was gone, I could feel the full force of the men’s attention shifting my way. I tried not to let them see how nervous their scrutiny made me and almost breathed a sigh of relief when Luca came back out, followed by a few men who pretended they didn’t notice me. I wondered what Luca had told them.

“Come.” He held the door open for me and we walked into a low ceilinged room filled with humidity and the smell of too many hard-working male bodies. I scrunched my nose up. Luca laughed. “We’re not catering to sensitive female noses.”

I grabbed by bag from him and walked toward a locker. Luca followed and set his own bag down on the scratched wooden bench.

“Aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” I asked, hands on the hem of my shirt.

Luca raised one eyebrow at me before removing his holster and then pulling his own shirt over his head, revealing his muscled tanned torso. He dropped his shirt on the bench, then reached for his belt, still that challenging look in his eyes.