Desire Me

17- The Importance of a Name

I carry the sleeping Lucy up the steps and into my private jet. It took us little over an hour to have everything prepared for this trip and all the while my Lucy rested.

The next few hours are going to be unbelievably challenging for her and I know she needs to rest as much as she can now.

"Good evening sir," my captain smiles and greets me as I shake his hand, " I hope you have a pleasant flight."

I nod my head and shift Lucy to my other shoulder, I can feel the captain's eyes drift over to the unconscious woman on my shoulder, but he doesn't ask. They all know never to ask.

Striding to the seats, I carefully lay Lucy down and then strap her in. Pausing for a moment, I stare down at her beautiful face. Her complexion is pale and delicate with a few deep brown moles on her cheek and forehead, I want to kiss all of them whenever I see them.

I stroke her cheek briefly before straightening up and hardening my expression just in time as my men walk in.

Marco and Mattia stroll in, deep in conversation until they see me standing, staring at them. Instantly, the friendly atmosphere dissolves and they stand to attention waiting for my orders.

Yes, I am close with both of them, they are like my brothers and we would die for each other, but make no mistake, I am the boss here and when my father dies, I will be the boss everywhere.

"Why are we here today capo?" Marco asks as his eyes land on Lucy.

"Her father is dying and this is the only way she can say goodbye."

Mattia and Marco look at me in surprise but they decide to keep quiet, maybe because of the throbbing vein of warning in my neck.

"Right." Marco clears his throat and they both quickly take their seats.

Lucy stirs next to me as we are flying over France, for a moment her eyes are full of confusion and fear, but as soon as she sees me next to her, her face relaxes.

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she sighs happily and looks up at me.

"I'm so lucky to have you." Lucy mumbles.

My stomach tightens at her words and I suddenly realise the reality I have been running from for days, I'm falling for this girl.

I don't want to.

I shouldn't.

It will only end one way.

But I can't stop the way my heart seizes in my chest as she smiles at me. The way my stomach drops when she kisses me.

I'm in deep, and what's even scarier, I don't care.

"I'm the lucky man, Lucia."

Bending down, I kiss her lips softly and then pull away. My phone buzzes in my pocket so I reluctantly shift Lucy off my shoulder so I can reach for it.

With my phone still buzzing from a call from my father, I watch, entranced, as Lucy walks to the bathroom on the other side of the plane.

Finally, I can bring myself to pull my eyes away from her as I answer the phone.

Immediately, my ear is full of fast, raging Italian from my father.

"Why are you taking the plane! What are you up to, Enzo Russo? You know that plane is not to be used for your whims."

"Father," I clear my throat and wait for an interlude in his anger, "it's not for my personal entertainment, a girl needs it to say goodbye to her dying father."

"Girl? What girl? Who is this girl Enzo, she better not be trouble."

My eyes flick over to where Lucy is talking to Marco, I can tell from her eyes that she's trying to read something from him. I make a mental note to ask her about it later.

"No," I smile briefly, "she's no trouble. An English girl with a pure heart and a kind soul."

"And what, just what is her name?" My father demands, my words have clearly not placated him, nor his paranoia.

"Lucia Greene."

Even down the phone I can picture my father stilling at my words, at the name I have given my girl.

"Is that her given name?" My father prompts.

"No." I admit, rolling my neck before shifting my legs out of the way for Lucy to sit back in her seat, "but it's the one I have given her."

My father hangs up without saying another word. I sigh and rub a hand over my forehead as pain blossoms at my temples.

Soft fingertips replace my own as Lucy gently massages at my temples, pushing the headache from my thoughts.

"Grazie." I murmur, leaning forward to rest my head on her shoulder lightly.

"You're stressed." Lucy states, her lips echo kisses over my forehead and hairline.

"And you're grieving." I state, not enjoying her pity when she herself is so lost and aching.

"You don't like sympathy, do you." Lucy says, her tone full of soft smile as her hand runs through my dark hair.

Shaking my head, I inhale deeply and the sweet smell of jasmine and coconut fills my nose.

Reluctantly, I pry myself away from her sweet presence and smile down at her. Lucy is shifting in her seat, arching her back and then huffing again.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" I ask, concerned by the discomfort on her face.

"I'm just tired of sitting." She replies with a delicate wave of the hand, "nothing to worry about, Enz."

Smiling at the nickname, I lean down and whisper in her ear, "I can solve that, love. Come with me."

Taking her hand in mine, I pull her up with my hands landing on her hips. Lucy smiles at me as I lead her down the plane.

I see her eyes widen at all the wealth which adorns this place, my whole life, but she looks past it, and looks up at me with a smile.

Pressing a button, a screen door slides away in front of us revealing a bedroom with a king sized bed front and centre.

Lucy's eyes widen, but she remains uncharacteristically quite. My guess is that she is lost in memories and goodbyes that are fast approaching.

We both lay down on the bed, side by side, hand in hand, our eyes staring up at the ceiling as our breathing fills the room with soft sound.

"Talk or peace?" I suggest, not wanting to force her out of her thoughts, nor leave her in a spiral of distress.

She hums softly to herself, "talk."