“Annie, isn’t it?” He asked, a welcoming smile on his face.
Annie wasn’t put at ease by his practiced kindness. Lincoln Barrett had been handpicked by Giac to run Amicus because he was almost as shrewd and terrifying as Giac himself.
“Yes. Good afternoon, Mr. Barrett,” she said, nodding curtly and thanking the heavens for her lucky escape. She moved towards the door, ignoring the continued gaze of Donna Mills. The woman was legendary in the building for her ability to sniff out scandal. Pregnancies, divorces, affairs; nothing stayed secret for long, once Donna had a hold of the information.
She half expected Giac to stall her again, but he didn’t. She made it through the door, and pulled it closed behind herself with relief.
Three years had passed in the blink of an eye, and she was yanked back in time, to the feelings and sensations that had driven her younger self to desperation.
* * *
“I wasn’t aware you knew our Annie,” the blonde woman asked testily, as she eased herself into a chair to his right, crossing her long, stocking clad legs at the ankles.
Giac had spent his life keeping his emotions private. “We met several years ago, when I acquired Amicus.” He said in a tone that did not invite further speculation.
Unfortunately, Linc was not easily dissuaded. “She’s a stand out member of the legal team,” he said, his approval obvious. “I have often noticed her working late. Far later than most of them, who knock off a whisker before five.” He lifted his eyes heavenward.
Giac didn’t want to talk about Annie. He didn’t even want to talk to Annie. His body was burning with a renewed need for her. More intense than he’d felt before. Three years had passed, but his desire for the woman had gone nowhere.
“I’m surprised she works so hard with a man like Thomas Jones waiting for her at home,” Donna said with a knowing wink at her boss. Giac watched the familiar way they interacted with a strange sense of foreboding. If Linc was screwing his secretary, he would be livid. Generally, Giac was a stickler for keeping business and personal relationships separate. Everywhere except with Annie Carlton.
“The painter?” Giac hated himself for asking. He’d been to an exhibit of the man’s at MOMA only two months earlier. Carrie had insisted on his accompanying her.
“You’ve heard of him, of course,” Donna continued with a nod. “Hottest new thing on the art scene.”
Beneath the table, Giac screwed his hands into fists. He’d heard of him, and he’d seen him. The man was young, good looking, in that weak, trendy sort of way, and probably perfect for Annie. His impressionist style works were a breath of fresh air in a modernist art world, groaning under the weight of Pro Hart imitators.
Giac focused on the matter at hand. He was well trained to hone his mind to whatever required his attention at the time. But there was a small part of his brain ticking over the problem of Annie. And it was a problem.
He had come to believe that he’d imagined the force of their attraction. That nothing could really be as good as what he remembered. But that hope and fantasy had disappeared the minute he’d seen her again.
Now, he knew he wanted her. Needed her. And he knew he would have her. No one else mattered besides them. He simply needed her to understand that.
CHAPTER TWO
“Giac,” she giggled, as he lifted her easily over his shoulder and carried her through the plush penthouse. “Put me down! I can walk!”
“You might have sprained your ankle,” he contradicted darkly, keeping his hands on her legs with effort. He longed to run his palms up her body, to feel her back, her ass, to touch her everywhere; inside and out.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, playfully punching his strong back with her fist. “If you put me down I’ll show you that I’m not hurt.”
He didn’t listen. “I don’t know what you were thinking, jumping into the fountain like that.”
Her laugh was like a fine bead of crystal in the wind. Dainty and exciting, and oh so fresh and alive. “I was hot.”
“The fountain is not for swimming in,” he muttered, thinking again how beautiful she’d looked as she’d lifted her long, flowing skirt around her thighs and leaped into the shallow water. Only to twist her ankle and falter in the shallows, so that he had had no choice but to reach for her and hold her to his body. It was then that he’d known. They would be together. Wild horses would not halt the attraction.
The flirtation that had been simmering between them for over a week had been driving him wild. Literally making him feel like a caged animal at night, desperate and hungry. She was all he could think of, and phone conversations with Carrie had been a duty he increasingly wished to avoid.
“Oh, pish,” she retorted, her polished British accent at odds with the behavior Giacomo had come to count on in Annie. He could only describe it as completely free spirited. Her predilection for summery dresses and bright accessories against the background of the incredibly stilted office of Amicus Incorporated had pulled him in. Her bright smile, shining eyes, clear skin, and the way she seemed to laugh with him even when they were discussing something as bland as UK tax law had left him with a sinking feeling of adoration.
“Pish?” He teased, though his mood was dark. For he knew what was about to happen, and it would be a death knell to the life he had planned. A nail in the coffin of the man he had hoped he could be.
“Yes. You know. Nonsense. Absurd. Boring.”
He winged his brows together as he shouldered through the doors at the end of the corridor. He made straight for the bed, and dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of it. She ran a hand through her curtain of dark hair, pushing it away from her eyes. He saw the moment she realized where she was. The laughter in her eyes sparked into something far more dangerous.
That was the point in time when he could have turned back. But he did not. Giac lowered himself to his knees, sinking into the thick white carpet, and took her ankles in his strong hands. He removed her shoes and slid them under the bed.
“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes searching his face.
“Making sure you’re okay,” he said, running his hands over one ankle. The inspection was far from clinical. His fingers probed and touched, gliding over her skin, rubbing the soft soles of her feet.
“I’m fine, honestly.” She said, trying to be sophisticated, when her heart was threatening to burst from her chest, it was beating so hard.
“The first time I saw you, I knew this would happen,” he said thickly, skimming his hands up her calves, to her thighs.
Annie sucked in a deep breath. “Knew what would happen?”
“This.” He claimed her mouth with an intensity that branded her soul.
It was what she had wanted from that first moment, too. He’d been talking to the entire legal team, explaining what the changes in ownership would mean for the staff, when their eyes had locked across a very crowded meeting room. He had carried on, as if unaffected, but Annie had found it hard to get her breathing under control. She had intended to leave the meeting room as soon as she could, but her manager had kept her talking, which made her easy prey for Giac Medici. He sought her out, and made her fall in love within five minutes.
She groaned, lifting her hands and running them through his crop of dark hair. Of their own accord, they dropped lower, to his shoulders, and she was pushing at his shirt, desperate to make contact with the chest she’d been drooling over for a week.
He pressed his body against hers, so that she fell against the thick mattress. He ground his hips to hers, watching as she felt his arousal hard, firm and demanding against her clothed abdomen.
“Giac,” she whispered, thinking of all the reasons she should put an end to this.
“Annie,” he mocked quietly, staring so hard into her eyes that surely he could see every facet of her being.
“Is this crazy?”
“Si,” he smiled wolfishly at her, but his hands on her shoulders were insistent. He slid the el
astic straps of her dress down, pulling at it roughly, his need to see her as great as hers to see him.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were small enough that she didn’t need one. His breathing was ragged as he ran his fingers over her nipples, then his mouth.
Her hips lifted in spontaneous response. Her insides were slick with an unfamiliar clench of moisture. He shifted the dress lower, then removed it completely, tossing it into the corner of the room.
It hit the wall and slithered to the ground. As it hit the carpet, Annie felt the final door close on any thought of stopping what they were in the midst of.
Her underwear, whilst practical and sensible, was nonetheless, the sexiest thing Giac had ever seen. He slid it away impatiently, his arousal straining almost painfully against his boxers as he looked at her, naked and perfect, on his enormous bed.
Her skin was the color of vanilla ice cream, her eyes like sea moss. Her lips were pink and heart shaped, and her hair was as black as night, as soft to touch as silk. As for her body, he hadn’t known it was possible for a woman to be slender yet voluptuous, diminutive but toned. She was so very alive, so completely intoxicating. “You take my breath away,” he whispered, keeping his eyes locked on hers.
“I need to see you.” She responded thickly.
“Then undress me,” he challenged, his eyes dark and stormy.
Self conscious of her nudity, Annie slid shyly from the bed. “I… are you sure?”
His face flared with amusement, only there was nothing funny about it. This was a darkly desperate situation, and even he, Giacomo Medici, renowned for his self-control, was powerless to stop what was happening. “I’ve never been more certain in my life.”
She darted her tongue out and licked her suddenly dry lips. Her fingers shook as, one by one, she unbuttoned his thick, cotton business shirt. She started at the top, and worked her way down, and as her fingers grazed his stomach, his muscles bunched beneath her touch. Tentatively, she pushed the shirt at the shoulders, until it fell from his well-built frame.
And he was every bit as strong as she’d fantasized. His chest muscles rippled beneath his golden tan, his arm muscles were pronounced. She gulped.
“You do not need to be nervous,” he said, watching as she pulled at his belt, and fumbled with the opening of his pants.
“I’m not,” she promised. “I’m just… overwhelmed.”
His eyes flared at her honesty. It was the perfect word for how he, too, felt. Along with blindsided, mystified, and side swiped.
“How old are you, cara?”
She bit down on her lip. “Twenty one.”
“So young.”
“How old are you?” She smiled distractedly as the pants finally gave way and dropped to his ankles. He stepped out of them, and then pulled off his own boxers. He was so impatient. So desperate for her.
“Older than you.”
Renewed guilt bubbled in his gut. He ignored it. So what if he was twelve years her senior? Twenty one was still old enough, he told himself. She was no teenager.
“How old?” She persisted.
“Old and wise enough to know how to drive you wild,” he promised huskily, lifting her up easily and putting her back on the bed. She went willingly. Her body was quivering with anticipation. She watched as he rolled a condom over his arousal, her heart racing for all sorts of reasons.
“You always drive me wild,” she murmured, reaching her hands up and running them down his face. He saw the emotion in her face. He would come to despise himself for not recognizing that she was in love with him, then. He acted with no thoughts for her emotions, and the guilt had become immense. But in that wonderful, heady moment, there was no guilt, and no shame; just pleasure to be had.
He kissed her again, because her mouth was irresistible, and her legs lifted, wrapping around his waist. She pulled him towards her, unconsciously clenching her thighs so that his arousal was teasing at the heart of her soul.
“Giac,” she called into the palatial bedroom, her voice shrill with desire.
He groaned. As he moved inside her, he knew he was closing some doors, and opening another, fantastic, life changing experience.
He froze, as he met an unmistakable barrier. “Annie?” He broke their kiss to stare down at her, his face ashen.
She flushed, shaking her head from side to side. “I’m fine. Don’t stop.”
He wanted to remonstrate with her; to ask why she hadn’t said anything. But Annie lifted her hips again, taking him deeper into her heavenly core. He swore as he thrust inside her. “I do not want to hurt you,” he promised against her ear.
“You won’t,” she smiled slowly, as the brief, sharp pain that had punctuated her first time with a man subsided. It left in its place only pleasure, and she reveled in the tide of enjoyment that was spreading through her body.
He moved with greater care than he knew he had the strength for. He watched as her body spasmed, her face colored, and she cried out, as a fierce orgasm ripped through her. She was so heavenly. He wanted so much more from Annie, but he was terrified of hurting her. It was then that he knew how serious he was about her. He had a real problem on his hands.
“Are you okay?” He asked, holding his own orgasm at bay with effort.
“Okay?” She grinned up at him, in a way that made his heart ache. “I’m so much better than okay. I had no idea…”
He growled, lowering his head and nipping her sensitive flesh at the top of her breast with his teeth. She yelped and writhed at the same time. “You should have told me,” he said, moving into her once more.
“I didn’t think this was going to happen,” she pointed out, though speech was becoming difficult.
“Didn’t you?”
She blushed. “I hoped… that’s not the same thing as knowing.”
“No.” He thrust into her again, deep and hard, watching, fascinated, as she thrashed beneath him, her body wild with pleasure and sensation.
“That feels amazing,” she cried out, as again, he pushed into her hard, demanding total supplication.
“I was gentle with you, when I realized it was your first time. Now I truly want to own you,” he whispered. “Will you let me show you what our bodies can do?”
Excitement and adrenalin charged her body. She nodded wordlessly. When he thrust into her this time, she realized how much he’d been holding back. Her insides stretched to accommodate his length, her body bucked against his in immediate response to the foreign invasion. But her heart was thudding with pleasure and her mouth was wide, making strange, gurgling noises of delight as he drove her nearer and nearer to the edge.
“Come here,” he said firmly, breaking the connection only so that he could pull her towards the edge of the bed. He re-entered her from a standing position, lifting her buttocks off the mattress with his strong hands. He held her half aloft while he took possession of her. She had no idea how loudly she screamed when her body tipped over into an abyss of unimaginable pleasure. He followed her, his cry animalistic as he finally allowed himself the release he craved.
It took several moments for his breathing to return to normal. Finally, he looked down at her. She was so beautiful. The shred of anger and resentment he’d been feeling, at having unwittingly been pulled into service to relieve Annie of her cumbersome virginity, disappeared entirely.
“You should have told me,” he said again, reaching down and taking her hands in his.
She nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. “Are you… was there a problem?”
“A problem?” He pulled at her wrists, easing her into a standing position.
“I mean… didn’t you, um, enjoy that?”
His laugh was thick with surprise. “That is not what I meant.” He frowned, his heart unmistakably tender. “I enjoyed being with you, Annie Carlton. Very much.” Too much, he silently added. It was a feeling he knew he would never forget and always want. “But your first time should be special, not like this.”
“O
h.” Her hurt was so obvious, he might as well have stabbed her. He winced.
“I mean… Hell.” He dragged a hand through his thick hair and looked at her beseechingly. For the first time in his adult life, he was lost for words. “With someone you love. You know. A boyfriend.”
“Oh.” She said again. “I understand.”
“No.” He shook his head, swallowing past the pain that hurting her caused him. “You don’t.” He groaned, pulling her against his chest and stroking her hair. He could feel the frantic racing of her heart, and for some reason, it made him think of her as vulnerable and fragile. And she was. Completely vulnerable to a man like him. A man who was supposed to be getting married in just over a month. He thought of Carrie, and felt nothing. Nothing beyond loyalty and companionship, anyway. The woman in his arms caused his body to reverberate at a different frequency; he’d never known anything like it.
“This can’t go anywhere,” he said, to remind himself rather than her.
“Oh.”
It was the third time she’d made the small, pathetic noise of acceptance, and he laughed despite the weight in his heart.
“Come. Let’s have a spa.”
Annie moved to follow him, but doubt was clouding her mind. What had she just done? Heck, it wasn’t like she had been saving herself. But she’d never thought she’d lose her virginity in a one night stand with a billionaire, who had no intention of sticking around, even for a little while.
She winced at her own stupidity, regret making her feel stupid. She dropped his hand and stopped walking. “No.” She shook her head. She’d slept with him in the heat of the moment, but sanity was returning to her now. “I… I should actually go.” She scanned the room, and saw her dress crumpled in the corner. She ran to it and scooped it up, shaking it out and pulling it on without pausing. She strode down the corridor, fully aware that he was following her, and not caring. Nor did she care that she’d left her underwear somewhere in his apartment. She needed fresh air, immediately.
The Medici Mistress: Nothing and no one would stop him from having her. Page 2
