His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  “Leo, Is Mr. Williams easy to work with?” she asked. The chauffeur shrugged his massive shoulders.

  “I suppose that depends on who you are. For a pretty thing like you, I imagine he’ll be awful sweet,” he said with a knowing wink. “But, he is particular. When he hires someone to do a job, he wants it done in a very specific way. He also demands a certain...privacy that some may find on the paranoid side.”

  She nodded in silence. They drove for what seemed like hours before Leo glided down a lonely immaculate street that led into rolling hills. She admired the scenery as it passed, feeling the nerves in her stomach grow as the car manoeuvred through the green landscape. Finally, a magnificent house arose in the distance. A gasp escaped her before she could stifle it.

  “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “Mr. Williams likes to escape to his country home for weeks on end. When you work for him, he can meet you at his townhome in the city.”

  When she worked for him. She bit her lip. It seemed as if her position had already been decided, but her mother always told her to never get her hopes up. She smoothed her skirt as they approached the massive stone mansion. It almost seemed as if someone had transported a modest European castle to the outskirts of an American city.

  As they went through the gate, she noted an emblem of a crescent moon on the wrought iron center.

  “Midnight Den,” she whispered to herself.

  “What was that?” Leo asked.

  She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I was just talking to myself.”

  As they approached, she noted two men in black suits with earpieces walking throughout the property.

  “Do I need to get out my ID?” she asked Leo as she eyed the towering figures.

  “No, no,” he said with a chuckle. “Mr. Williams is often contracted by the military for various projects. Every man in his family served at one point, and then they transition into contract work. I wish I could tell you more, but even I don’t know. But no worries, the security is fielding terrorist intelligence, not historians.”

  They parked in front of the house in a horseshoe driveway that was paved with polished cobblestones. Her heels clicked against them as he led her up to the house. The same crescent moon was carved into the doors. Her heart skipped a beat when he led her into a lounge to wait.

  “My employer will be with your shortly,” he explained with a small bow. “Robert will be by with some refreshments.”

  She settled into the plush chair as his footsteps faded. While she admired a painting above the mantle, someone strode in.

  “Do you take cream in your coffee, Ms. Baxter?” The casual drawl made her jump.

  A handsome older man with a thin scar down one side of his face stood in the doorway. He was dressed in a suit, looking as if he’d stepped from a storybook as the butler.

  “Are you Robert?” she asked.

  “I certainly am,” he answered smoothly. “Is that a ‘no’ to the coffee?”

  “Oh, please! Black is fine, thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “My employer will be here shortly. I’ll bring the refreshments up shortly.”

  She stared off into space after he left, feeling pinpricks of anxiety all over her body. It was odd. All of Roman’s employees had called him “my employer” for the most part. It seemed odd that they wouldn’t address him as Mr. Williams. Her mind churned. She clutched the portfolio close to her chest, suddenly feeling bashful that a slit of her cleavage was showing beneath her thin gold necklace. Who exactly was Roman Williams?

  And why did meeting him feel like being introduced to royalty?

  “Josephine.”

  A deep voice shocked her from her thoughts, the second time someone had sneaked up on her. She jumped and whirled around. There was another entrance that she hadn’t noticed. From beyond the stranger’s shoulders, she could see that it was attached to a study. Her eyes came into focus on the body standing in the arched doorway.

  She inhaled sharply as his glittering gray eyes came into focus. His broad frame shifted beneath his sharp suit and a devilish smile spread across his face, rendering him both dashing and terrifying.

  “My name is Roman Williams,” he introduced in a velvety soft voice. “I only have one question before we begin. Are you afraid of the dark?”

  Chapter Three

  Job interviews had never sparked lustful feelings within her, but she’d never had a potential employer like Roman.

  “Your history is impressive,” he stated with a commanding tilt of his chin. His firm grip on her portfolio sent a shiver through her after she allowed herself the naughty thought of those strong fingers stroking her body.

  “I understand that you worked on the city’s restoration project two years ago?” he prompted and his question snapped her back.

  It’d been a project that she worked on after recently graduating college. As public interest projects went, most of the credit went to elected officials and her name wasn’t mentioned at all, despite her hours of hard work.

  “Yes,” she replied in a wavering voice. “How did you know that? I don’t remember mentioning it…”

  His smirk stoked a flame within her chest. “I have several associates in the public sector. You’d be surprised what a phone call can reveal,” he said. “Someone said you were incredibly dedicated to your work. Several sources have told me that your love for history is unrivaled. You don’t seem to be doing this work for anything but personal passion.”

  “I love history,” she admitted in a soft voice. “I’m dedicated to my interests.” A sweltering heat rose in the room. She skimmed her cool fingers against the back of her neck, a motion that he followed with laser focus.

  His eyes flashed. “What are you interested in, Josephine?”

  “Different things,” she admitted around the nervous knot in her throat. His eyebrows rose. The pause hung over her with a suffocating force. Yep, it was time to change the subject. “You asked me if I was afraid of the dark.”

  “You said that you weren’t,” he recalled with a nod. The curve of his lip twitched higher.

  “Why did you ask me that?”

  He chuckled, a deep delicious sound that filled the room. “You need guts for this job.” The formality in his voice waned, replaced by something wicked. “I’m an awful guy to work for, honestly.”

  She hummed with disbelief. “I find that hard to believe. Leo and Robert spoke highly of you,” she said with a shrug.

  “They have to love me,” he said with a lazy grin. “They’ve been with the family for a long time, you see.”

  The idea of having generations of servants was too foreign for her to comprehend. She wouldn’t know what to do with a maid if she were rich enough to have one.

  After several minutes of sitting together, something dawned on her. The air of elite mystery faded from Roman the longer they talked. His posture had grown more casual; his tall, muscular body leaned into the chair instead of sitting ramrod straight. When he tilted his head to gaze at her, her tightly wound nerves almost snapped from the added tension.

  She searched for a word to describe him. Overall, his tall, thick build said he was more suited to playing professional football rather than sitting behind a desk. But something else lurked, just beneath the surface, almost like an internal aura.

  Dangerous, her mind unexpectedly supplied. She bit her lip at the sudden revelation. He smiled, amused and calm, across from her and she found herself wondering if perhaps he could read her mind. She definitely hoped not.

  “If you work for me, I want my work to be your only focus. You’ll be living here with me in my country home until the project is finished. I have several locations all over the city that I want you to explore,” his explanation brooked no room for negotiations. He demanded what he wanted and expected her to agree to his terms. That told her that he was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  His face held a blank, brooding expression while she simply
studied him. Confidence washed off him in large, rolling waves. He wasn’t a man to take refusal lightly. Yes, she wanted this job; however, she wondered if perhaps she could get what she wanted as well.

  “Can you agree to my terms?” he asked after a few moments of prolonged silence; a sudden impiety marring his face. “I don’t tolerate deception or slacking off. You should know that I’m very good at discipline.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. She wanted to ask just what kind of discipline he administered but felt like the question could be taken as flirtation and that was the last thing she wanted to do with her potential new boss.

  So, she nervously shifted her eyes to her lap and smoothed at invisible wrinkles until she’d worked up the nerve to add her own request. She had no idea what she’d do if he declined.

  “If I do this, may I research the Midnight Den?” she asked forcefully.

  His response was the arching of one brow and nothing more.

  “You can research what I allow you access to, but you’ll be required to sign a non- disclosure agreement,” he relented. “But if you try to publish anything with information that I haven’t approved, then I will bury you in lawsuits.” His words carried the underlying threat plainly.

  “Okay,” she said, swallowing the hard lump in her throat. “Deal.”

  His gray eyes burned into her. “Good. I hear Robert coming with the coffee. Let’s discuss details after paperwork. Josephine?”

  “Yes?” she leaned forward.

  He grinned maliciously, but his face held a supreme seriousness that made the fine hairs on the nape of her neck stand at full attention.

  “Don’t fall in love with me.”

  Chapter Four

  Josephine worked best in the early morning hours. She composed four neat stacks of texts that she’d pulled off of Roman’s library walls and devoured them, making notes in the journal next to her along the way. After two hours of being seated behind a long, mahogany table, her legs begged her for a break.

  She obeyed and walked along the wall that sported a sprawling window. Her eyes flickered to a funny glint in the reflective glass.

  She turned on her heel and walked over to a small shelf that contained a few carved figures, but her attention was stolen by a small bit of gold. Her fingers itched to touch it.

  Upon closer inspection, she saw it was a pendant with the same symbols as those marring the front gate and door, the marking of the Midnight Den. She brushed her hand over it and found the surface was cool, but pulsing with a humming energy she was reluctant to call her own imagination. Suppressing rational thought, she lifted it into her hands for a closer study.

  The symbol was carved deeply into the surface with the crescent moon dipping down, as if it were a separate piece that could be pressed downward. She glanced around the room and towards the open door that led to the hall.

  Feeling confident that nobody was around, she pressed it gently and to her surprise, it moved fluidly.

  She yelped when a pinch of pain unexpectedly struck her finger, and then watched as a tiny stream of blood poured out of the injury. Her eyes shot back to the pendant and she realized her wound was caused by a hidden blade that had been released when she’d depressed the button.

  The blade was small, but the nick stretched across the meaty pad her finger. She groaned as the red liquid pooled and dripped on the floor, a surprising amount for what appeared to be such a minor wound. She cursed and set the pendant down, trying her best not to smear blood on it.

  The sound of rushing footsteps echoed in the hallway. She’d barely lifted her head when Roman came barrelling in, his eyes wild. A worried glare pinched his face and as he approached her, she noticed his labored breaths.

  “I heard you scream,” he muttered darkly. “What’s wrong?”

  “I accidentally cut myself,” she explained timidly and lifted her bloody finger. “There was a golden pendant with a hidden blade in it. I didn’t realize it was booby-trapped until after I pressed it.”

  His gaze flew to her hand and a strange expression flitted across his face. Her stomach dropped as his eyes clouded like a sky just before a thunderstorm. His soft grey orbs deepened to an almost black.

  “Let me look at that,” he commanded hoarsely and took a step toward her.

  She regarded him nervously as he approached. “Roman? Are you okay?” she asked with a frown. He took another step towards her. The odd look on his face her pause, but her body was betraying her. Her core swelled with desire as her eyes processed the hunger in his face. His handsome features were contorted into a dazed, raw expression that shook her to the bone.

  He’d moved so close that their chests were nearly touching now. He gripped her hand with a gentle force and raised her finger to his mouth. She inhaled sharply when his tongue ran out to lick up the blood. When she tried to pull away, his other hand came up and cupped the small of her back. He pressed her into him, the friction causing her to gasp in pleasure. His gaze flew to her. She felt heat in her cheeks as she realized the arousal in her own sound.

  But, his lips found a new expanse of her skin to torment. He pulled her into a searing kiss. When she gasped this time, his tongue slipped in and her skin erupted with pleasure. The faint hint of metal haunted his lips, but the feeling of his body against her own was the only thing she could concentrate on.

  She shouldn’t be doing this, but she was. Her mind had gone offline, disconnected completely as an unfamiliar part of herself fought for dominance. Their kiss was filled with passion, burning her from the inside out. Her bit her lip and she let out a strangled moan.

  Suddenly, he pulled back. The hazy look in his eyes had cleared. He stared at her and she felt her bottom lip swell with delicious pain, longing for him to kiss her again.

  “Josephine,” he whispered breathlessly. Her blissful fog dissipated as she realized the fear brimming beneath his handsome face. His hands gripped her by shoulders as he leaned in with a scowl. “Forget that ever happened,” he demanded and then was gone.

  She stared, blinking owlishly as if waking from a dream, at the doorway he’d left through. Her mind reeled with confusion.

  She’d just kissed her new boss. Or he’d kissed her. She pressed a hand to the side of her face, feeling her skin turn clammy. Minutes passed. She hovered like that for nearly a half hour before realizing that the shadows had changed in the room and she was running out of time. Work always brought her back and she needed to be grounded.

  Each stack of books needed to be tackled. She ripped a text open with a forceful movement and let her eyes run free over its pages. On the second book, she finally felt her breath start to return to normal. Her chest rose and fell as she nestled back into the routine of research.

  Still, his eyes haunted her; the feeling of his raw energy as it pulsated from his body, sliding across hers like an electrical shock. She closed her eyes and remembered the way his lips felt against her own. Her blunt teeth worried at her bottom lip and she realized it was still swollen from where he’d nibbled earlier.

  She absently toyed the spot with her tongue as she grabbed another book, trying to shake the striking memory from her brain.

  She’d never seen a man that wild before. His eyes were all she could think about when she drifted off to sleep that night.

  Chapter Five

  It’d been a full day since she’d seen Roman after the incident in the library. She watched her face turn pink in the mirror as she brushed her hair. The early morning light filtered in through a window in her guest room. She glanced around the room, a luxurious room that was a far cry from her cozy apartment. On the vanity, she’d placed a few picture frames of her family and friends. The uncertainty of how long she’d be staying here haunted her.

  How long did she have to find the document? He hadn’t given her a specific date, but he seemed to be anxious about it. What he needed it for, he hadn’t disclosed to her. She frowned and fingered the soft skin of her cheek, warm against her chilly fingert
ips. Would he even want her to stay after what had happened between them?

  Her phone buzzed with a message from Clara asking how things were going. Josephine heaved a sigh and put the phone away, making a note to reply later when she had a clearer mind. She stared at her computer bag that was sitting on her made bed.

  Acting on impulse, she sat down beside the bag and pulled the computer into her lap. She opened the lid and booted the device up, nervously watching the door as the machine took its sweet time.

  The mansion might’ve looked pre-Internet, but the connection was surprisingly fast. She quickly typed “Roman Williams” into the search bar and watched as the results flew up; pages upon pages of references to the elusive man. Unsuccessfully suppressing the guilt, she began clicking on news reports.

  “Roman Williams Lunches with Models,” she read aloud from a gossip magazine. She raised her eyebrows when she saw a photo of Roman lounging with two gorgeous blondes. Their legs were longer than she could ever hope for. She found a more reputable newspaper article from the city about his sponsorship of various projects.

  “He’s given a lot to historical projects,” she muttered aloud and scanned over the pictures of him with a few professors from the local university that she recognized. Although his face was posted alongside models or famous socialites half of the time, she noted that he seemed happier in his photos at public work events. She whistled in surprise when she found a picture of him, with his wry smile, among some colleagues that she’d studied with at university.

  How had she’d never come across him? Clara knew about him before she had. Maybe she should’ve spent more time outside of the library. With a tired groan, she put her computer away.