But, for Hallie, everything else became a blur. Even her friends were forgotten.
All she could see was...him.
Cristiano Moretti was broad shouldered, dark and powerful, outwardly civilized in a perfectly cut tuxedo, but with a five-o’clock shadow on his hard jaw and glittering black eyes that hinted at a ruthless, brutal soul. Looking at him, Hallie shivered, caught between longing and fear, overwhelmed by memory of the night he’d seduced her. The night her whole world had changed.
As a trusted maid at the Campania Hotel New York, she’d occasionally been assigned the enviable task of cleaning and tidying the Italian tycoon’s exclusive penthouse, used only when he was in town. Dusting pictures of Cristiano’s gorgeous face as he stood beside famous politicians and celebrities, Hallie had developed a serious crush. She’d actually imagined that Cristiano wasn’t just insanely handsome, he was also honorable and good.
Wrong.
She blinked now, looking at him. The way he smiled. So casual. As if he had not a care in the world. He was so arrogantly handsome, king of the world in his tuxedo, apparently off for a night on the town with a beautiful model. While she’d spent the last year struggling, looking for a new job when she was pregnant and trying to find a cheap place to stay in New York City.
For the last year, he’d been enjoying himself—swilling champagne, as Lola had said. He really had forgotten Hallie even existed.
As Cristiano turned to speak to the woman pouting beside him in a gold lamé minidress, Hallie breathlessly handed the stroller’s handle to Lola.
“Keep an eye on Jack.”
The blonde frowned. “The man will want to meet his own son.”
Hallie set her jaw. “I will tell Cristiano in my own way.”
“You’re being irrational,” Lola began, but Tess put her hand gently on Lola’s arm.
“Let Hallie do it.”
Hallie flashed the redhead a grateful look.
“Fine,” Lola said, drawing back stiffly.
Swallowing hard, Hallie went toward Cristiano, planting herself in the middle of his path through the lobby. Her heart was pounding wildly.
It was funny, really. If she’d known when getting ready for the single-moms group that afternoon that she’d end up facing her old lover, she might have put on lipstick and worn something nicer than an old faded sundress that fit her post-pregnancy body. He’d probably take one look at her and wonder how she’d ever ended up in his bed in the first place. Well, there was no help for it now. And it wasn’t like she would ever, ever, ever want to sleep with him again. Ever.
Putting her hands on her hips, she tried to hide her nervousness as she waited.
His bodyguard tried to smooth his way, holding out his arm. “Excuse us, miss.”
Then, from behind him, Cristiano’s eyes caught hers.
For a split second, he went completely still. Then his jaw tightened. “It’s all right, Luther.” He came forward. “What are you doing here, Hallie?”
He remembered her name. She was almost surprised. She hated the shiver that went through her at having him so close, towering over her in his tuxedo, nearly touching her. His dark gaze seared through her. She found herself wanting to blurt out everything, to tell him not just that she’d had his baby but that he’d broken her heart.
She forced herself to say, “I need to talk to you. In private.”
His expression became distant. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I have something important to tell you.”
“Tell me now.”
“In the middle of the lobby?” Hallie’s cheeks went hot. She could feel people watching them. Even the model, standing nearby in her high heels, was looking down at Hallie with scorn. They were all probably wondering why such a frumpy girl would dare talk to Cristiano Moretti. For a moment, Hallie’s nerve faltered. She wanted to run away, to forget the whole thing.
Then she saw her friends watching from the other side of the lobby. Saw her sleeping baby cuddled in the stroller. That gave her courage. “It’s important.”
“Not interested.” But as he turned to go, she stepped in front of him.
“Either you speak with me privately right now,” she said, determined, “or I’ll make a scene in this lobby you can’t possibly imagine.”
Cristiano stared at her for a long moment, as if assessing her. Then he held up his hand, halting the bodyguard’s intervention.
“Go ahead to the gala, Natalia,” he told his date. “My driver will take you. I’ll see you later.”
The woman’s pout intensified. She glared at Hallie, then said, “All right, darling,” and sashayed out of the lobby hips first, as if she were on a catwalk at New York Fashion Week. She was so obviously a model that even the sophisticated patrons of this luxurious hotel turned to watch her go. So did Hallie, a little wistfully. What would it be like to get that much attention wherever you went? She would be able to get an audition at the Blue Hour, for one.
“Follow me,” Cristiano said, turning on his heel without waiting to see if Hallie followed.
She glanced nervously back at her baby and friends. Then, biting her lip, she went up the sweeping staircase, following the man she hated most on earth, to face him alone in his lair.
* * *
Cristiano Moretti’s jaw was tight as he went to the wet bar in his private office on the second floor.
Lifting the lid off the crystal decanter, he glanced back at Hallie as she followed him hesitantly into the high-ceilinged room with its dark oak panels. “Scotch?”
Hallie shook her head, her beautiful brown eyes wide.
Turning back to the bar, he poured himself a short glass over ice. He could almost feel her vibrating with anxiety behind him. He put the lid back on the decanter, then drank the Scotch in one long, slow gulp. He realized he was playing for time.
But then, Hallie Hatfield had been Cristiano’s biggest mistake. And at thirty-five years old, with his scandalous past, that was saying something.
He turned to face her. “Va bene,” he said shortly. “We are alone. What do you want?”
Hallie swallowed, blushed, hesitated. He could see her trying to formulate her words, but she didn’t have to say anything. Cristiano already knew why she was here.
She’d come to demand money.
Silently he cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid?
He’d known this would happen. He was just surprised it had taken a year.
Hallie must have spoken with a lawyer who would have pointed out her excellent case for suing him for wrongful termination. His emotions had gotten the better of him the day he’d had her fired, because he’d never done anything so foolish, before or since.
Looking at her, he could almost understand why. Hallie had big, soulful eyes a man could drown in. And her curves! In a loose cotton sundress, her body was even more lush than he remembered. Her dark hair fell in waves over her full breasts, almost down to her tiny waist.
Cristiano could still remember how it had felt to have her in his arms, the sensation of her soft body sliding beneath his as their naked limbs tangled in the very bedsheets she’d made just an hour before.
He’d seduced her. There could be no doubt of that. Coming back to New York a day early, he’d heard her sweet, husky voice singing from the bedroom of his penthouse. Her wistful, heartbreaking melody had filled him with longing for things lost. Things he’d never had. Things he’d never dared even dream of.
Then he’d seen her, waving fresh sheets in the air with her arms spread wide. An incredibly beautiful, sensual brunette with an hourglass figure, leaning over to make his bed. Even that black housekeeping uniform had looked indescribably erotic on her.
A shocked sound had come from the back of his throat. She’d turned and looked at him. A tumble of emotions had cascaded across her beautiful face. S
urprise, fear, delight. For a moment their eyes had locked, and he’d forgotten his own name.
Then he’d forced himself to give a casual smile. “You’re not my usual housekeeper.”
“Camille had to go home early today to be with her grandson, but she warned me not to let you catch me,” she stammered. “I’m supposed to be invisible.”
Coming forward, his eyes devouring every inch of her, he’d murmured, “You’re anything but invisible. What were you singing?”
“Just an Appalachian folk song.”
“It’s beautiful.” Coming close enough to touch her, he’d whispered, “So are you.”
Her cheeks had gone rosy, her lips parting in unconscious invitation as she stood beside his enormous bed.
He’d reached for her.
Cristiano knew who was at fault. He’d wanted her. So he’d taken her. Without thinking of the consequences. If he had, he would have stopped himself. It was one of his rules: never sleep with employees.
But that wasn’t the worst rule he’d broken. Hallie wasn’t just an employee. She’d also been a virgin. Virgins were off-limits. He didn’t toy with women who might mistake sex for love and become a problem later.
He’d known she was a virgin from the first time he’d kissed her, when he’d felt the tremble of her sweet lips. He’d felt her hesitation, her shyness, her inexperience. And he’d known. Somehow, this incredible woman was untouched.
It hadn’t made him stop. He was a man who put few limits on his own behavior. But he had a code of honor. In Hallie Hatfield’s case, he’d recklessly blown through his own rules like dynamite through a brick wall.
So it was no wonder he’d broken a third rule, afterward, and fired her for sleeping with him.
That wasn’t the reason he’d given her supervisor, the head housekeeper, of course. But it had been obvious to Hallie. And clearly her lawyer, too.
But now, as Hallie stood across from him in his private office, biting her full, delectable lower lip, it was hard for him to think about lawyers when all he wanted to do was pull her back into his arms.
For a year, he’d done his best to forget her. He’d told himself he had. Now he knew that was a lie.
“Why are you here?” Cristiano demanded in a low voice.
“I came to...came to tell you...”
Her husky voice trembled, stopped. She looked at him.
Turning away, Cristiano set down the crystal lowball glass heavily on the dark wood bar. He clenched his hands at his sides to keep himself from the temptation of pulling her into his arms and kissing her to see if her lips were still as delicious as he remembered. He was drawn by the sweet sin of her mouth. Of her body. Of her deep brown eyes, luring him into their depths.
Possessing her once had not been enough. After he’d had her that night, he’d just wanted more. It didn’t help that, naked and soft in his arms, she’d looked up at him in bed as if she were half in love with him already. She’d lured him like a siren to give him more than just his body. More than just his money.
But sex and money were all he could give any woman.
So he’d sent her away, tossing her from the warmth of his bed when his body was still aching for more. After she’d gone, he’d still longed for her, like a sweet, forbidden poison. First thing the next morning, he’d contacted her supervisor and arranged to have her fired. For her own good. And his.
But he had never stopped wanting her. And now, as he stepped toward her, his breathing was hard. And not just his breathing.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I need to tell you something. Important.”
“So you said.” Cristiano’s voice was low as he looked down at her. He came closer, almost close enough to touch her. His mind was scrambling for rationalizations as to why he should.
Perhaps if he slept with her just one more time...
Got her out of his system...
Stop, he told himself furiously.
Hesitating, Hallie licked her full, pink lips. He nearly groaned. Was she purposely taunting him?
“This...isn’t easy to say,” she whispered.
Gritting his teeth, he glared at her. “Let me say it for you, then. I already know why you’re here.”
Her caramel-brown eyes went wide.
“You know?”
He set his jaw. “You never cashed the check.”
Hallie blinked, furrowing her forehead. “The check?”
“The morning after.”
Her cheeks colored and she looked away.
“No,” she said in a low voice. “I ripped it into a million pieces and threw it in the trash.”
“Because you knew, even then, you could demand far more.”
Hallie looked at him sharply.
“I can?” she whispered. “You’d give me money, just for asking? Why?”
“You want me to admit it aloud?” He pulled her roughly against him. She gasped as his hands suddenly moved over her waist, her hips.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for a microphone.” But even through the thin cotton of her sundress, touching her waist and hips without crushing her lips with his own felt like torture.
“Let me go,” she breathed, not moving.
He released her. Stepping back, he leaned against the marble fireplace, folding his arms and keeping his voice very cold. “Who is your lawyer?”
“My lawyer?”
“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have one. You knew I’d want to keep this quiet. I’m not proud of it.”
Her eyes widened. “Of—of what?”
“It would hardly improve the public image of my company if the CEO is sued for sexual harassment.”
“Oh.” Biting her lip, she looked away, staring for a long moment at the wall of leather-bound books he never read, and the leather reading chair he never sat in, both brought in by an interior designer to make his office look like a nineteenth-century gentleman’s study. And all Cristiano could think right now was that he wanted to bend her back against the enormous dark wood desk, kiss her senseless, pull off her clothes and...
He had to get rid of her before he did something else he’d regret.
“Just tell me the amount,” he said tightly.
“The amount?”
“How much?”
Licking her lips, Hallie said, “I want...the same amount as before.”
“A hundred thousand dollars?” he said incredulously.
“I’ll never bother you again. I give you my word.”
Cristiano could hardly believe she’d ask for so little. Far less than he’d pay if they went to trial. Less than he paid his lawyers for a month. Was it some kind of trick? Or had she been given bad advice by the worst lawyer in the world?
Searching her face, he warned, “You’d have to sign a nondisclosure form.”
“I’ll sign anything you want,” she said meekly, folding her hands in front of her like a nun at prayer.
Now Cristiano was really suspicious. “And a statement admitting that you were fired for cause.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’d say it was your own fault you were fired.” He gave a careless shrug, even as he watched her closely. “The reason can be anything you want. Tardiness. Stealing.”
“Stealing!” Hallie repeated indignantly. Then her expression deliberately smoothed over and became meek again. “I will admit to being late. Yes. I was very, very late.”
Something in Hallie’s tone when she said I was very, very late rang true. And yet he knew it was not.
The morning Cristiano had decided to fire her, he’d asked the HR department to review her file, hoping to hear a legitimate reason she deserved to be let go. “Oh, no, sir,” the HR head had chirped. “Miss Hatfield is one of our hardest-working employees. She wo
rks late and volunteers to work holidays instead of employees with kids. And she’s never late!”
So he’d given the task of firing her to her supervisor, instead. Handing the head housekeeper a sealed envelope with a big check, he’d explained to the woman that he’d found Hallie intrusive and her singing annoying. The head housekeeper, whom Cristiano had never spoken to directly before, hadn’t asked the same questions HR would have. She’d just followed his order.
So why would Hallie accept a hundred thousand dollars now, in lieu of a settlement that could have brought her millions? And want it so badly she was actually willing to defame her own character for it?
What kind of incompetent, useless lawyer would ever advise her to do such a thing?
Cristiano could barely restrain himself from telling her what a bad deal she was making. But his goal was to be rid of her before she caused him any more damage—personally or professionally.
“Fine.” He turned to his enormous desk. Pulling out a standard nondisclosure agreement usually given to high-level executives, he pushed it across the desk toward her and scribbled something on a separate piece of paper.
“Might as well keep the lawyers out of it, and save us both time and trouble,” he said carelessly. “Sign these and I’ll write you a check.”
Hallie looked at him sharply. “Give me the check first.”
“What?” He gave a low laugh. “You don’t trust me?”
“No.” She looked at him with quiet determination. “Because I know what kind of man you really are.”
His back snapped straight. “What kind is that?”
“You seduced me—” her dark eyes glittered in the shadows “—then had me fired. You took my job away, just to avoid the inconvenience of seeing me.”
She was right. And he hated her for it.
“And now we both know what kind of woman you are,” he said coldly. “The kind of woman who is willing to lie about herself for a hundred thousand dollars.”
Her deep brown eyes held his, then dropped.
“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I suppose I am.” She squared her shoulders. “But I’ll still need the check before I sign.”
“Fine.” Turning away, he got his checkbook out of the safe. Scribbling the amount and signing it, he handed it to her.
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