The girl stood by the bar and watched him. He looked her slowly up and down. He’d remembered her from the night before, and she was definitely one of the club’s assets. Wall Street bankers were difficult to deal with at the best of times, and were even more challenging for a young woman.
Wall Street wasn’t somewhere women were treated as equal to men. On that score, it was still about halfway through the nineteenth century. Considering how high-powered and senior most of the club’s customers were, Agostini had been impressed with the way she dealt with them.
That, he told himself, was the reason his thoughts kept turning over the picture of her looking back at him with her full lips about to part.
She fidgeted as he looked at her. He must have been staring, the way that he had been at the rest of the fixtures and fittings.
Tobin Grace shuffled out from his little office, his inner sanctum, scratching his head and rubbing his eyes. He stopped short when he saw Agostini. Stared like he might still be dreaming. Agostini thought that the old guy was losing it.
He looked at Agostini again, then at Princess. He started talking in a rush. “Princess, did you meet Mr. Agostini? He was here last night. I don’t know whether you saw him or not. Look, sweetheart, here’s the thing: Mr. Agostini and I have come to an arrangement. That is, Mr. Agostini has kindly…”
Agostini couldn’t stand much more of that. He cut across the old man and told Princess, “I’ve taken over the club. It’s mine now, all of it. The staff all work for me now, so that will include you.”
Almost like a reflex she said, “I’m not working for you.”
Evenly, Agostini told her, “As of last night, Ms. Grace, all of the staff work for me.”
“But I don’t get paid.” She stuck out her chin. And her chest. He got a rise out of that.
“Then may I tell you without reservation that, whatever may come to light in your performance reviews, your contribution is very cost-effective and your work represents great value for money. I only wish that Hotsteppa’s had more employees like you.”
“No.” She almost stamped her foot. With a little color in her cheeks and a spark in her eye, she was suddenly way more attractive. “I am not going to work for you. Not at any price, and certainly not for free.”
“You would if your daddy said you had to, though, right?”
“Well…” Her brow wrinkled while her eyes narrowed and danced uncertainly from Agostini to Grace and back again.
“So,” Agostini snapped at Tobin, “tell her.”
He began to mumble, “Princess, sweetheart, it’s just the way forward—at least for now. We’ll need to work with Mr. Agostini…”
Agostini cut him off again. “Okay, Princess? You got it?”
“No. Daddy, tell him.”
Agostini had had enough. He said, “Yes, Daddy, tell the nasty man that even though you owe money all over town and you’re so far underwater the bubbles have stopped, that you’ve got some magic beans concealed about your person that are just going to turn all of your creditors into happy cherubs and butterflies.”
He waited. “No? Okay, then. Listen up, both of you.” He looked hard from the girl to her father and back. “I’m your knight in shining armor. All the games and syndicates and the suppliers that the club owes, and that you personally owe money to, are all going to be happy and quiet and keep on supplying you, and they aren’t even going to break your head, not even a little bit, and all that you have to do is to let someone who understands business take charge—namely me—and give up on the illusion that this club belongs to you, when for the past year at least, it has been wholly owned by Affiliated Catering Supplies, Liq-R 2 Go, the landlord, and, most of all, Fat Tony.”
Princess clenched her teeth and her pulse rose as she listened. She didn’t care who this big-shot Wall Street Mafioso was, nor how desperately hot he made her by being near. He couldn’t just walk in and take Hosteppa’s away from Daddy and her.
The fire that his presence lit in the core of her was a maddening distraction, but she ignored it as much as she could. The hard line of his jaw and the strong hint of a powerful muscular frame under the tailored suit weren’t reasons to give in to his ridiculous demands. She glared at him as hard as she could.
He said, “Shouldn’t be so much of a surprise, Princess. Your daddy’s been gambling like a fool. Hanging paper all over town. Haven’t you, Mr. Grace?”
Her father’s face sagged.
“It’s going to be hard for him at first, getting used to doing what he’s told.” Agostini’s teeth flashed as he grinned. “That’s where you’re going to help, Princess.”
Princess narrowed her eyes at him. The trouble was, whenever his eyes flashed at her, watery tremors ran down the insides of her thighs and her knees weakened. He said, “You two are going to work with me, and you’ll do it with energy and enthusiasm.”
Her jaw tightened and jutted. She looked hard, right into the light of his hard blue eyes. “You can’t make us do any of that, Mr. Agostini, and I’m sure you know it.”
His voice was soft and low as he said, “I wouldn’t have said it if I couldn’t. You don’t want me to show you how I can do that.”
“You can’t just come in here and take this club away from my daddy, the man who built it out of nothing.”
He took a step toward her and all her breath left her. A dull shock pounded through her as his eyes locked with hers and he said, “I can take what I want. I can and I do.”
Her father’s eyebrows pointed as he said, “Let’s work with him, Princess.”
She looked from one man to the other. Why her father wouldn’t stand up to Pierce Agostini she couldn’t understand, but if he wouldn’t do it, then she would. Firmly she said, “No.”
Agostini turned his head to her. “Final answer?”
Her body shook. “Final answer.”
“Not the choice I would have made for you, but okay. Here’s how it will be. Mr. Grace,” Agostini reached out and took Princess’ arm, “I’ll take Princess. I won’t hurt her while you do what I need in the club, and I won’t hurt you as long as she behaves herself in my custody.”
She pulled , tried to yank her arm back, but his grip was much too strong for her.
In a panic, sensations flew through her. Alarming sensations, but thrilling, too. Maybe alarming because they were so very thrilling. Then he spun her, grabbed her waist from behind, and lifted her like a rug.
Princess felt as helpless as a small child, powerless and unable to resist as Agostini carried her like a rug up the spiral steps. She flailed and kicked, but it made no difference.
Her hands clasped and clawed at his arm but it did her no good. As she screwed up her face, ready to yell with all of her might, she knew it was useless. Better to conserve her energy.
In the dazzling daylight, when he carried her out onto the sidewalk, Princess struggled harder and she shouted to passers-by. Nobody paid her much attention, though. A middle-aged woman nudged her husband. He looked around and for a moment it seemed like he would raise his voice. Or a hand. Or something.
When the man looked up into Agostini’s face, he put an arm on his wife’s shoulders to turn her and usher her away. Just another girl being carried off against her will in New York. She imagined hearing them mutter, What are you gonna do?
One of the black bouncers held open the back door of a blue Bentley. Agostini slung Princess inside, onto the back seat. Her frantic breath was knocked out of her as she landed on the black leather and sank into its smooth softness.
Prince climbed in after her. Even before he was fully on the seat, before the big goon had shut the back door behind him, her feet, her knees and fingers lashed out.
“Comfortable?” he asked her with his eyebrow cocked. Princess pulled at the nearby door handle. It was locked. She beat on the tinted window to no effect. She spun round and pummeled her fists on Agostini’s chest.
He watched her with a detached amusement. There have could eve
n have been a trace of admiration in his tight smile, but then he seized her wrists.
At the touch of his skin against hers, a shock drained all the strength from her. Like a massive flashbulb went off in the core of her. She trembled inside as he drug her face right up to his and said, “Enough.”
Her face was trapped close to his. His cologne, the smell of his expensive suit and his own musk filled her head. Intense sensation flooded her body. Briefly, in that moment, she was still.
With alarm, she recognized a scent of her own, rising, hot and strong. His nostrils flared and his eyes gleamed hard. She knew she shouldn’t have the dark thoughts that swelled within her and she fought to push them down.
His voice was quiet like a chill breeze. “Don’t you realize that I can make very bad things happen to your daddy?” She bit her lip and managed to tug with her wrists.
His grip tightened and he spoke through his clenched teeth. “You’re collateral. You’re here so that he’ll cooperate with me.” She wrenched her arms and brought a knee into the side of his thigh. He held her wrists even tighter, and it hurt. “It would be a shame if bad things happened to your daddy, or to Hotsteppa’s, because of you, wouldn’t it?”
He took both of her wrists in one hand and held her so easily that it made her tremble. He pulled her body down and held her across his thighs. Her breasts were crushed against his tight, muscular legs.
His heavy hand pressed firmly on her back and fastened her onto his lap. Still, she writhed and struggled.
“Do you want me to spank you?” There was a cruel amusement in his voice now. “Like a naughty schoolgirl? Is that how we’re going to play this?”
She almost stopped moving. The weight of his hand on her back, the strength of him as he held her down. Something in the suggestion that he might spank her was very thrilling, and in a way, that troubled her. With her eyes screwed shut, Princess chased the idea away. Whatever that feeling was, she didn’t want it. Especially not now.
Pinned to his hard thighs, she couldn’t see above the seat. The big car rocked gently as it swayed through the Manhattan traffic, but she couldn’t see out to get any idea of where they were going.
It was hot where she was, and breathing into the leather upholstery didn’t help. She asked him, “You really believe what you said back in the club? You think you can just take whatever you want?”
The rumble of his chuckle vibrated from his legs and though her body. He told her, “It’s a proven fact, Princess.”
“In the way that you’ve just taken me?”
“To get what I need from a person, I’ll take what they love best. They’ll give me whatever I want to get it back.”
“And that’s why you’ve taken me?”
“I took you from your daddy because I need to have his nightclub.”
“So, what will you take from me, Pierce Agostini?”
“I don’t need anything from you, Princess.” She heard the smirk in his voice as he turned to look in her face. He was handsome like the devil.
“So, are you telling me that while I’m in your power, you don’t plan to amuse yourself by taking me?”
“I have no wish to ‘take’ you, Princess. I’m sure many have tried, few, if any, succeeded, and most—if not all—probably regretted it.” His hand held down her back more firmly.
“No, I don’t want to ‘take’ you.” He paused. Then a cruel smile darkened his face. “Although it could be fun to watch you break.”
Princess tried to shift her body but it only made her breasts press harder onto his thighs. Her breath trembled and her chest felt tight. “Why do you need Hotsteppa’s, Mr. Agostini?”
After a pause, he said, “I’m not a Bond villain. I’m not going to reveal my evil schemes to you and say, ‘mwa-ha-ha,’ so that you can break free and thwart them with your skill and cunning.”
Princess shook her head. Some days, she thought, nothing goes right.
A firm and distinctive stirring was definitely going on beneath her. Below her breasts, inside the fabric of his suit pants, something heavy and strong started to heat and uncoil.
She wished she could scoot down and bite it.
Pierce suspected that Princess only gave up struggling to conserve her energy. They traveled in silence the next twenty minutes. All that he heard was her breathing and the muffled sounds of traffic outside the Bentley as it swung and sailed through the slew of Manhattan traffic and swept north toward the park and home.
He kept her held down. He told himself that it was mainly so that she didn’t see the route they took. He knew that it was an excuse and that it wouldn’t bear much examination.
From the penthouse, anyone who had the slightest familiarity with Manhattan would know exactly where they were. It was probably true of just about any penthouse, but the one he was using was right on the west side of the park, so it wouldn’t be any kind of a challenge to pinpoint on a map.
He needed to restrain her—she’d proved that already—but he didn’t want to admit to himself how much he enjoyed the pressure of her body on top of him. His cock hardened, but that was only normal. She was a strangely beautiful woman.
While his response was natural, there was a note, a pitch, that he had not experienced before. It felt something like a forgotten song or a beautiful memory.
They drifted by the Time Warner Center and up along the side of the park. Pierce cleared his throat and said, “Callaghan, we better go in from the garage. No sense in risking her going wild in the lobby.”
Callaghan nodded once. Pierce asked the girl, “Do I need to carry you to the elevator, or can you walk unaided?”
When she said, “I’ll be a good girl, Mr. Agostini,” with a low chuckle in her voice, it made his cock really harden. Little minx. He was sure that her laugh was not genuine. She was trying to play him, he was certain of it.
He breathed in deeply as she pushed her warm, soft tits down harder against him. He would need to watch her. She was clever.
Under the high glass tower of Park Place Pinnacle, Callaghan drove the Bentley down into the darkness of the garage and pulled up smoothly in front of the elevator. Calhoun stepped out and around to open the back door.
As soon as the door opened, she burst out like a champagne cork. Calhoun sprinted after her. She was fast, though. Callaghan jumped out the driver’s side and chased around wide to her right.
She saw Calhoun and Callaghan to either side of her and she scurried, keeping low, then darted behind a row of dark SUVs.
Agostini lost sight of her. Calhoun and Callaghan prowled wide, and they kept their arms out as they crouched and craned to peer under the vehicles.
They heard a scuffing sound and looked up. She was two rows of vehicles away, halfway to the entrance and dashing for the upward slope. They turned and ran after her, but she was too far ahead.
As she made it into the light and the slope slowed her run, Agostini strolled out from behind a van and scooped her up like a loose football. He smiled and ignored her struggles and her shouts as he hauled her back to the elevator.
Over Princess’ howls of protest, Calhoun laughed and said in his broadest County Kerry brogue, “Will I carry your baggage for you, sir?”
Callaghan said, “Sure, you read her like a book.”
Pierce shrugged as he stepped into the elevator with her thrashing under his arm. “She had to make for the entrance. Where else would she go? All I had to do was get there before her.”
Perfectly Bad: a bad boy romance Page 2
