But fury was burning a hole in his gut and all he could think about was how she’d disobeyed him. How she’d appeared at the meeting like it was no big deal, bending over in that tight little skirt, showing her ass off as she arranged the cups and poured the coffee before strolling calmly out.
As if she hadn’t just set him on fire with one glance.
She had to know what she’d done. And she had to pay for it.
He was tired and foul-tempered and furious. His groin ached, and if he wasn’t careful, everyone in the entire room would know exactly what she’d done to him. How dare she do that him, and in a board meeting no less.
Fuck, he didn’t care what he’d promised Ivan. He was going to fire her so fast her head would spin.
Picking up the remote, Lorenzo threw it over the boardroom table to his surprised brother, who caught it in a reflexive movement.
“You tell him,” Lorenzo said curtly, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Excuse me gentlemen. I have an urgent staffing issue that can’t wait.”
There was an eruption of sound as he turned and left the room, his father’s deep voice calling after him, but he didn’t turn. Instead he headed straight for the elevator and was back on the hundredth floor in less than a minute.
As he stalked by Stacey’s desk toward his office, he ordered, “Tell Kira I want her in my office. Now.”
“But you have Mr. Delaney and Ms. Chadwick from—-”
“They can wait.” He didn’t even look at the two people sitting in the waiting area. He wasn’t interested.
Right now, nothing was more important than getting Kira Constantin out of his company, out of his head, and out of his life.
Going into his office, he started in the direction of his desk, intending to sit, then found himself pacing back and forth in front of it instead, the intensity of the emotion pumping through him too hot to allow for sitting still.
She seemed to take forever to arrive, and by the time his office door finally opened and she came in, he was about ready to explode.
Kira shut the door with a kind of deliberate care that only pushed his fury higher. Then she stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, not looking at all as terrified as she should be considering he was going to give her the dressing down of her life before firing that pretty ass of hers.
In fact, her chin was lifted, and those big, deep blue eyes of hers held nothing but a stubborn defiance. “Before you say anything,” she began.
But he was already heading straight for her, coming fast and not stopping. Making her give a gasp and stumble back on the high black pumps she wore. And even then, he didn’t stop, not until he’d backed her up against the door of his office.
Then he put one hand on either side of her head, caging her against the wood at her back.
“You’re fired,” he meant to say. But he didn’t.
Because now he was close to her, that warm, sensual perfume of hers was wrapping around him again and yes, it was the one he’d smelled in the kitchenette the day before. He’d been right about that. And it wound through his brain, making his heart race even faster, carrying with it a rich flower scent and something else, something delicate and musky and hot. Something inherently female.
Her.
All the words vanished from his head.
She’d been getting under his skin, pushing him, infuriating him, teasing him all week and all without even being in the same room as him. And then, when she had been in the same room, all she had to do was look at him, and he was on fire, his control in pieces. In front of the board. In front of his fucking father.
It was unacceptable. She had to be taught a lesson.
So he didn’t tell her she was fired.
He bent his head and crushed her mouth under his instead.
* * *
Kira barely had time to take a breath before Lorenzo’s mouth came down on hers, and then she found herself pushed right up against the closed door, the hard heat of his body plastered against every inch of her.
For a moment she froze, too shocked to do anything more.
Then everything seemed to explode, an instant and intense hunger licking up inside her, igniting like a huge, dark bonfire.
The new Kira, the woman she was trying desperately to be, shouted a warning to push him away, not let him touch her. Not let him put her precious self-control at risk, because if she did, all her hard work over the past six months would have been for nothing.
But it was difficult to hear that Kira over the roar of her own desire.
Since she’d been a kid and he’d shown her kindness, shown her how to make that paper crane the day of the garden party, she’d been fascinated with Lorenzo de Santis. And as a teenager, that fascination had only gotten more complex, become tangled up in the passion she’d seen his eyes as he’d looked at the woman in Bryant Park, as he’d kissed her.
She’d seen his passion flame that day, a passion she’d wanted for herself.
Because it felt like she’d been born cold and only he could warm her.
Well, she had that passion now, and the low hum of desire that had hit her the moment she’d locked gazes with him upstairs had risen to become a scream that was drowning everything out.
She should really stop and think about why he was always so angry with her. Why he was pushing her up against the door and kissing her so suddenly when just days before he hadn’t even wanted to set eyes on her.
But her brain wouldn’t work, the self-control she’d practiced so diligently since the accident breaking apart under the ferocity of the need that filled her.
She felt like a starving woman stumbling over a feast set out just for her.
Her hands lifted to his face as if they had a will of their own, her fingers pushing into the thick black silk of his hair, glorying in the softness of it against her skin. Then she held on as she opened her mouth, his tongue pushing between her lips in a hard, hot demand that wanted nothing less than her total surrender.
Somewhere in the back of her head, the Kira who was trying to do better screamed louder then fell silent, flattened under the sheer weight of desire.
All week she’d been trying hard to stay out of sight, to prove to him that she could obey orders and do a good job. Then, today, Stacey had told her that she had to serve the coffee in the boardroom, because Stacey had an important conference call. Kira had almost refused, because of course she’d known Lorenzo had been in there, but she’d promised him she’d do what she was told, and so she’d sucked it up, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her.
Yet he had. And she’d felt it the very second his attention locked onto her, the intensity of his gaze making her whole body hum like she’d been plugged into a power socket. It had been all she could do not to spill coffee all over the expensive carpet of the boardroom.
She’d turned to look at him just before she’d gone out of the room, an impulse that soon proved to be a mistake. Because his eyes were silver and the expression in them was so full of heat and fury it had felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She’d stumbled and had barely managed to make it out of the meeting room with her dignity intact.
She’d been furious with herself after that, for letting herself be so susceptible to him, and when the order had come from Stacey that he’d wanted to see Kira in his office, she hadn’t wanted to go. But she’d forced herself, justifications for her presence at the meeting tangling in her head. Then she’d seen him pacing restlessly in front of his desk. And when his head had come up, she’d seen that silver in his eyes flash, jagged and hot, and she’d forgotten everything she’d been going to say.
Then he’d begun to come toward her, fluid and fast, and she’d forgotten the entire previous week.
He was the gun going off right in front of her.
He was the bullet slamming her against the wall.
Kira gripped him tighter, her head tilting back, gasping as he pushed his tongue deeper into her mouth. He tasted so good, rich and alco
holic. Like a hit of brandy in a perfect hot chocolate. So damn delicious.
He kissed her harder, his teeth grazing her lower lip in a short, sharp bite that sent a shudder of reaction straight through her. She arched helplessly against him, loving the feeling of being crushed between the door and his hard, hot body, kissing him back with as much hunger and desperation as he was kissing her.
She could smell him all around her, sandalwood and musk, and the spicy, masculine scent of his skin. And she felt half out of her mind with the need to touch him, taste him, run her fingers all over him and discover whether he was as hard and muscled as he felt under those impeccable tailored suits.
You should stop this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this.
Dimly, she knew that. This was a mistake, and the last thing she should be doing was making more mistakes, especially when she’d made so many already. But the hunger had taken hold. This need had been dogging her for years, and finally he was here. Finally, that cruel, beautiful mouth of his was on hers and she couldn’t let him go, she just couldn’t. And, Jesus, maybe she had to do this. To have him so she could finally exorcise this terrible fascination she had with him.
Maybe if she did this, she could be free of it.
Maybe then she could finally focus on the things she was supposed to.
She let go of his head, reaching for his tie, clawing at it to unknot the fabric and pull it away, get the buttons of his shirt undone so she could at last touch his bare skin. Put her mouth to his throat and taste him.
Suddenly he shifted, knocking her hands away and pressing her harder against the door, pinning her there with the weight of his body so she couldn’t move. His hand came up and his fingers closed around her throat, forcing her head back against the door.
She sucked in a shocked breath, the heat of his palm burning against her neck like a hot coal. His grip wasn’t painful, and she could breathe. But it was firm enough that she couldn’t get out of it.
A tremble shook the entire length of her body, the sensation of being pinned somehow intensifying everything, drawing her nipples into tight, hard peaks beneath her blouse, and making the ache between her thighs begin to throb insistently.
He leaned in close, the lines of his beautiful face drawn taut with fury and hunger. It glittered in his eyes, too, and she couldn’t look away.
She’d never been this close to him before, never been so near that she could see that his irises weren’t simply dark charcoal gray, but were fractured and crystalline with a much lighter silver. The effect was amazing, and with his long, thick black lashes and the straight dark lines of his brows, startlingly beautiful.
“You broke the rules,” he said softly, the cold edge in his voice feathering over her heated skin, making her shiver yet again. “You didn’t do as you were told.”
Kira fought for breath, trying to hold his gaze. He may have sounded cold, but there was nothing but furious heat in his eyes. It made her whole body tighten. “I . . . didn’t mean to.” Her voice sounded raw and shaky, but she couldn’t get it to sound any firmer. “S-Stacey told me—”
“I don’t give a shit what Stacey told you,” he snarled, leaning even closer, raw anger and white lightning swamping her. “You broke the rules. You made me fucking hard in front every single board member in that room. In front of my fucking father.” His thumb at the side of her neck moved slowly up and down, stroking her. The gentleness of the touch was so at odds with the rage in his voice she didn’t know quite how to process it.
Lorenzo leaned farther in, putting his mouth near her ear, his breath whispering over the sensitized skin of her neck, raising goose-bumps. “You know that that means, don’t you, Kira?”
The stroking of his thumb was insanely distracting, adding yet another sensation to the mix already flooding her. She wanted to do so many things to him, but he was holding her completely still. Containing her.
She loved the feeling.
“N-No,” she whispered, even though part of her did.
“It means,” he murmured, a note of heat in his cold, dark voice, “that now you have to pay.”
Her breathing hitched, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She was shaking, and she couldn’t seem to make herself stop.
Yes, God, yes. She’d been angry before, because it hadn’t been her fault, but now her anger had changed, become something else. Now all she was conscious of was a terrible, insatiable need to prove herself to him. To show him that she was capable of being good, that she could follow the rules, that she wouldn’t disappoint him or let him down. And not only that she wanted to, she was desperate for the chance to do so.
This isn’t folding paper cranes, and you’re not ten years old anymore.
No, but she didn’t care. She’d take responsibility for her mistake. She would pay. She would pay whatever price he wanted her to.
She could feel his mouth so close to the delicate skin under her ear, his breath like the touch of a flame. His scent was everywhere, and the astonishing heat of his body was making her crazy. “How?” she forced out. “Are you g-going to fire me?”
He turned his head a little more, his thumb resuming its stroking movement up the side of her neck to the base of her jaw, then down again. “No.” His mouth was so close to her ear she almost felt the touch of it. “I’m not going to fire you.” Another minute shift of his body, his hard, muscular thigh pressing suddenly between hers. “I’m going to fuck you. Right now. Right here. Up against this door.”
Kira inhaled raggedly, a jolt of shock going through her. And then, right behind it, a blinding surge of desire, so intense she could hardly breathe.
His grip on her jaw firmed and with easy strength, he turned her head away from him, exposing her neck. “Can you deal with that, Kira?” His mouth pressed to the skin below her ear, and she gasped at the sensation, fire streaking through her. “Because that’s my price.”
She closed her eyes, her breathing getting shorter, faster. “Y-yes.”
“There will be rules, of course.” His teeth against the side of her neck, biting her, a sharp nip that made her groan. “There are people out there waiting for me so you’d better be quiet. You’d better not make a sound.”
She opened her mouth to agree, then at the last minute, gave a shaky nod instead.
“You will not touch me.” Lorenzo’s voice was icy with authority and it should have cooled her, calmed her, but it didn’t. “And you will not come until I tell you to.” Again his teeth against the sensitive side of her neck and another sharp bite that had her jerking in his hold in reaction. “Do you understand?”
She nodded, trembling all over.
“Prove yourself to me. And maybe . . .” Another sharp nip to her earlobe. “Just maybe I’ll keep you on.”
He didn’t let go of her jaw, keeping her head turned away, but she felt his other hand move, his fingers trailing down the exposed line of her neck and then farther down, to the curve of her breast. She inhaled sharply as he followed that curve, finding the hard outline of her nipple beneath the fabric of her blouse and circling it gently.
She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering at the electric intensity of the sensation, trying to stifle the moan that gathered in her throat. His fingers lingered for another taunting second before they moved down, and she had to bite her lip to stop from protesting as they slid over her waist and hip, and down over her thigh.
He was watching her, she could feel it, and part of her wanted to hide from him and not let him see what he was doing to her, not show how desperate she was. Yet there was another part of her that just didn’t care. That gloried in her own need.
That wanted him to know.
“So far, so good,” he murmured, and she felt his fingers curl under the hem of her skirt. “But now I’m going to make it harder.”
And with one smooth movement, he jerked up her skirt.
Chapter 6
Lorenzo barely knew what he was doing. The icy control he exerted over all aspects of hi
s life had disappeared entirely, overwhelmed by the insistent desire that had him by the throat and refused to let go.
He knew this was a bad idea.
He knew that getting close to her and forcing her up against the door was a mistake, kissing her an even worse one.
If she’d shoved him away, yelled at him, and looked at him with outrage, he would have ended it instantly. But she hadn’t. She’d gone all soft and hot, and he’d tasted hunger in the sweet heat of her mouth. Then she’d grabbed at his tie, clawed at his shirt, arched against him and gasped, just as hungry for him as he was for her.
Which meant her fate was sealed and his along with it.
He would allow himself this one indulgence and with any luck it would get rid of this insane, distracting need once and for all.
He didn’t care about the people waiting for him in the room outside. He didn’t care that his secretary was merely a yard from the door.
He didn’t care that he was at work and that he’d never done anything like this in his office before.
The only thing that mattered was the fury inside him. The desire to make her pay for what she’d done to him. To show her the consequences of not obeying the rules he’d set. And to watch her prove herself to him, prove herself worthy.
He didn’t know why he wanted that, he just did. And he was going to have it.
His own breathing was nearly as fast as hers as he pulled the tight fabric of her skirt right up to her waist. Her legs were bare underneath it, the heat of her body seeping through the wool of his suit pants as he pressed harder against her, keeping a grip on her jaw.
Her smooth skin was so warm against his fingers, the soft heat of her throat against his palm. He could feel the tension in her neck, could see it, too, in the rigid way her tendons stood out as he held her head turned against the door at her back.
But he didn’t let go. The exposed vulnerability of her bare neck and throat made him want to bite her, nip her, lick up the salty/sweet taste of her. He indulged himself, leaning in and inhaling that taunting, teasing scent. Flowers and the light musk of feminine arousal. It went straight to his head, made his cock rock hard.
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