The Temporary Wife: Luca and Valentina’s Story (The Windsors)
The Temporary Wife: Chapter 8

Valentina isn’t at her desk when I walk into the office, and I check my pocket watch, my head throbbing. It’s nine in the morning, so she’s likely in a meeting by now.

I run a hand through my hair, the weekend’s events running through my mind. I fucked up. I never should’ve said any of that shit to her, and I certainly shouldn’t have touched her. I’m neither impulsive nor emotional yet seeing her with Joshua pissed me off beyond reason. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. All I could think about was making her mine before he ever even had a chance with her. It was irrational and so unlike me that even I can’t figure out why I acted that way.

True remorse fucking guts me when I see the pink sticky note on my desk, two tablets on top of it and a glass of water beside it. For your inevitable hangover, it reads. How did she know? I haven’t spoken to her since the wedding, so how did she know that Lex, Dion, Zane and I were out drinking all weekend? I suppose she knew that’s what we would’ve done, since Dion isn’t in town often. She knows me better than anyone else, and it fucking kills me.

Eight years, and you still don’t know me at all. Those words have haunted me all weekend, interspersed with entirely different thoughts. I’ve been fucked up over her, my mind replaying the way she looked at me, the way her pussy felt and the way she moaned my name. How the fuck am I ever supposed to forget that? How could I look at her and not want more?

I grab the pills and pop them into my mouth, praying my head stops throbbing soon, so I can replace a way to apologize to Valentina. I don’t know what possessed me to lash out at her the way I did.

Throughout the years, she and I have never had a true argument — in part because Valentina never let it get that far. I have no idea how to handle this situation. I can’t even remember the last time I apologized to anyone at all. How do you even apologize for what I did? Is it at all possible to go back to the way we used to be?

I watch through my glass office wall as she finally walks toward her desk, a stack of documents in her hands. She looks painfully beautiful today, in that cream-colored dress and that red lipstick. I’m fucking done for, because all I can think about is wanting to smear that lipstick of hers. If I hadn’t intervened, would she have gone home with Joshua? Would it have been his name on those pretty lips of hers? Violence thrums through my veins at the mere thought of her in his arms.

I lean forward and bury my face in my hands. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never once intruded in her life. I have no idea if she has a boyfriend, or if there’s anyone special in her life, but I know that logically, I haven’t left her with enough time for any of that. Why do I suddenly care about things I never even used to wonder about, and how do I stop? My usual list of reasons to despise Valentina Diaz rings hollow today, yet I force myself to go through it in a desperate attempt to control the way she’s made me feel.

1. I’d be a fool to lose her as my secretary because she’s the single best employee I have

2. She’s friends with my sister and sister-in-law

3. My grandmother adores her, and she’d be furious if she found out

4. She was forced on me and likely is one of my grandmother’s spies

5. I’ll be marrying someone else

Yeah, I don’t give a fuck about any of that if it means I can get another taste of her. This is exactly why I’ve stayed away all this time. Deep down, I always knew one touch would be enough to hook me.

My finger hovers over the call button on my desk, but a sudden bout of nerves prevents me from clicking it. What in the fuck? When have I ever been nervous?

I press it, and Valentina looks up, her eyes replaceing mine through the glass. “Can you come in?” I ask, my tone far harsher than I was going for.

She nods and rises to her feet, her eyes never leaving mine as she walks in. She doesn’t look mad or affected in any way, and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Good morning, Luca,” she says, that irritating polite smile on her face. Just once, I want to see her laugh for me the way she laughed for Joshua.

“Valentina.”

She stares at me expectedly, and I lean back in my seat, unsure what to say. “What can I do for you?” Her tone is so polite, so distant. This is the Valentina I’ve always known, but I’m starting to realize that I’m the only one who gets this cold and detached version of her. I want her on her knees in between my legs, her pretty lips wide open and lust lighting up those beautiful eyes of hers. I want to witness her unravel, piece by piece, until she’s lost in desire the way she was last weekend.

I grit my teeth and try my hardest to dismiss the thought. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, my voice soft.

Her eyes widen, and she crosses her arms. “If anything, it should be me who apologizes.” She looks away for a moment. “I’m sorry for leaving early when you’d ordered me to attend as your date. I failed in my duties.” She looks back at me and forces a smile. “You were right. I forgot my place. I’d gotten so comfortable around your family and in social situations such as Ares and Raven’s wedding, that I forgot that I don’t belong in your world. I never will. I’ll never be more than a replaceable employee, someone who would only ever be a mistress, but never a wife. That’s what you accused me of, isn’t it? Wanting to be Joshua’s mistress, despite him having neither a girlfriend nor a wife?”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and my eyes drop to her trembling fingers. Her voice is firm, but her body betrays the pain I inflicted. How do I make this better? How do I earn her forgiveness?

“I heard your warning loud and clear, Luca. I overstepped, and my behavior could reflect badly on you. The last thing you need is rumors about your executive secretary attempting to replace a sugar daddy. That is what you’re worried about, isn’t it?” She smiles humorlessly. “I truly, sincerely, apologize. This reminder is exactly what I needed. It will never happen again. You needn’t worry about me embarrassing you any further. I won’t risk losing my job.”

Fuck. What the fuck have I done? “Valentina,” I say, unsure what exactly to tell her. “I didn’t… you’re misunderstanding.”

“Am I?”

How do I deny her words without admitting that I was merely jealous? I’m in no position to be jealous of who she dances with, yet that’s exactly what happened. I couldn’t stand the idea of her being in his arms, of her laughing with him when she barely smiles at me. Joshua doesn’t date women exclusively, and he has no intention of ever getting married. I don’t want to see her with anyone else, but least of all with someone like him. He’d never make her his girlfriend or wife — he’d play with her feelings and discard her.

I’ve worked hard to keep a certain amount of distance between us, and each and every day, I remind myself of the countless reasons I should despise her instead of want her… but I don’t think we can ever go back to the way we used to be. Not now I know how she looks when she comes for me.

“I need you to know that I have the utmost respect for you, Valentina. You are, without a doubt, the most valuable resource Windsor Finance has. I was out of line, and if anyone overstepped, it was me. I said things I didn’t mean, and if I could take back my words, I would. Hell, it isn’t just my words I’d take back. It’s my actions too. I don’t think I’ve ever regretted anything quite as much as I do that night. I care about you more than you might think, and the last thing I ever intended to do was hurt you.”

How could I have touched her when I know that I can never have her? There’s only one way I get to keep her in my life, and it’s as my employee, nothing more. I can’t risk jeopardising our precarious working relationship any further.

She flinches and grits her teeth. “You’re not the only one who regrets it, Luca,” she tells me, the anger draining from her voice, leaving only remorse. “I’d much rather we never speak of this again.”

She runs a hand through her hair and scoffs, her anger returning with a vengeance. “And Windsor Finance’s most valuable resource,” she repeats, a mocking smile on her face. “Right. That’s exactly what I am to you, huh? How could I, for even one single second, have forgotten?”

Fuck. Fuck. “I didn’t mean it that way,” I rush to tell her.

Valentina’s eyes flash with anger. “You seem to be saying and doing a lot of things you allegedly don’t mean,” she retorts. “Perhaps you should consider refraining from saying anything at all.”

She’s telling me to shut the fuck up, huh? “I…”

“You have a meeting in ten minutes,” she interrupts, pure fury in her eyes. “I will email you everything you need for it.”

Then she walks out, leaving me staring after her. How did I manage to make things even worse?