Pretending with the Greek Billionaire(57)

Are you fighting with your father?

What was the argument about?

Does he approve of your marriage?

How does he feel about your fiancée?

Things looked like they were getting heated in there. Care to comment?

Constance! Constance! How does it feel to have Luca’s father hate you?

Luca! Did he threaten to cut you off if you married Constance?

Your fans want to know! Do you have a message to share?

Yeah…he’d love to tell everyone to fuck off and get out of their faces, but he refrained. Barely.

Luca shoved through them, for once not worried about trying to make a good impression. Constance trembled under his arm. He needed to get her out of there. They made it to his car and he ushered her in, running around to get in the driver’s side. This time, he didn’t take it nice and slow so they could get their shots of the happy couple leaving. He revved the engine to serve as warning, lurched forward a foot or two to show he was serious, and then he applied foot to pedal and got them out of there.

They were followed, of course, but they couldn’t pass the gates of Luca’s estate. He ground to a halt as close to the door as he could get and hurried around to help Constance out of the car.

“I don’t feel so well,” she murmured.

Her face had gone pale as the white linen dress she wore. Luca wasn’t taking any chances. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside, ignoring the vultures screeching at them from the other side of the gate.





Chapter Sixteen

Constance sipped at the water Luca handed her and then put it down, taking a couple deep breaths.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I freaked out. I …I just need a break. I want all this to stop. Just for five minutes. Something.” Constance knew she was whining like a two-year-old but she couldn’t help it. If one more camera went off in her face, she was going to scream. How the hell did Luca deal with this every day of his life and not go completely insane?

He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest in a gesture so tender it made her heart twist. Sometimes, most times, he was a total ass, but there were moments like this where a different person seemed to peek out. She sank into him, letting him soothe her. His hands rubbed down her back, his lips moving against her hair as he mumbled in Greek to her, interspersed with kisses so sweet she wanted to cuddle against him and never move.

He tilted her face up so he could meet her gaze, smoothing her hair out of her face. “Omorfí koritsi mou,” he said, surprising her with the sweet term of endearment. His beautiful girl. It drew a smile from her and she pressed closer to him. He kissed her, his lips gentle, almost chaste.

“Come on,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “Let’s get out of here.”

Relief flooded through her. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a spot I know where they won’t find us.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. She had to jog a little to keep up with his long stride.

“What about the kids?”

Luca stopped and pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly firing off a text. He received a response a few seconds later and grabbed her hand again. “They are still at the beach with Joe and Mrs. Ballas. Joe’s getting ready to build a bonfire for s’mores. They have them covered for the night. Let’s go.”

They were in a part of the house she hadn’t been in before. Luca pushed open a door and flipped on the lights. They were in a garage, a fully stocked garage. Constance’s jaw dropped at the assortment of designer cars and motorcycles neatly lined up on the shining concrete surface of Luca’s custom garage. Each vehicle in there probably cost more than she made in a year. What in the world did he need with so many of them on this tiny island?

She gawked at each shiny new specimen, not really noticing where he was leading her until they came to a stop in front of a shiny black and chrome work of art—that Constance would get on over her dead body.

“That’s a motorcycle,” she said.

Luca’s eyebrow rose. “Very good.”

“You don’t expect me to ride on that thing?” She rode a moped, sure, but that was a little scooter. It was like a toddler’s tricycle compared to the massive piece of equipment in front of her.

He pulled a helmet out of a compartment in the back and handed it to her. “Yes, I do.”

He kicked a leg over the bike and sat down and somehow that small act made things tighten low and deep in her belly. What the hell was it about a motorcycle that made a man so freaking hot? Luca was insanely attractive to begin with, but sitting with that impressive hunk of machinery between his legs, his jeans taut over his thighs, his shirt doing nothing at all to hide the well-sculpted body it covered made her want to straddle him herself.