Taught by the Tycoon

by Shelli Stevens

  For the past few years she’d loved her job, but now she dreaded that journey into work. Whether on the subway from her place, or in the back of Damiano’s Rolls Royce from his. The dreading work bothered her more than she liked to admit.

  Damiano was silent on the drive today. His mind seeming preoccupied with something else. She hoped it was something as simple as a business deal being difficult, and not him winding down on his interest in her.

  She was paranoid, and she knew it. But she was in love with him and done denying it to herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before things ended between them, and she was watching for the signs of his waning interest. Tonight’s drive made her uneasy.

  “Everything all right?” she asked with forced lightness.

  He seemed to make himself relax and squeezed her closer to him. “Sí. Things are fine, Dolcezza.”

  She didn’t quite believe him, and was about to press on, but her phone buzzed with a text. After detangling herself from him, she pulled her phone from her purse and spotted the text from Lexi.

  You moved out?

  What on earth? Was her friend just calling her out on being gone so much?

  She typed a quick reply.

  No, just staying at Damiano’s tonight. I’ll probably be back on Saturday night.

  Barely a minute passed before there was a reply.

  Okay, then we were robbed and only your stuff was taken. It’s all gone, Rachel. Seriously.

  “This is crazy.” She shook her head and her stomach knotted. “My stuff is missing from my apartment.”

  Beside her, Damiano’s chest rose in a slow breath. “Merda. I had hoped to tell you first.”

  She cast him a sharp glance as unease slid through her. “Tell me what? Did you have something to do with this?”

  “I had your things brought to my home this afternoon.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me? Why would you do that?”

  “Because you’re living with me now.”

  Chapter 22

  That took the air right out of her. Hope and confusion swelled inside her chest. Was this just some roundabout, chauvinistic Italian way of showing her that maybe Damiano loved her? That he wanted something more permanent and official? If it wasn’t, he needed to seriously work on his communication skills.

  “You can’t just move me into your penthouse, Damiano. It’s something we would need to discuss first,” she reproached, trying to sound unconcerned, but this made her a little uncomfortable. “Besides, I can’t just abandon Lexi like this.”

  “I’ll pay for your share of the rent for as long as she wishes to stay there. The whole rent if she’ll allow me.”

  Her breath locked. “What? No. Did you hear what I just said? You just don’t move someone out of an apartment and into your home—which how did you even do that?—without discussing it first.”

  “It’s all irrelevant.” He shook his head and sighed. “I didn’t think our affair through, Dolcezza. You have to admit your reputation, and mine, has suffered at work.”

  “I don’t let any of that bother me. It’s just harmless water-cooler gossip.” It was a lie, and they both knew it.

  “I was careless,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “In more than one way.”

  She pulled away, needing a bit of distance to gather her thoughts. “You’re talking all cryptic and ominous, and I don’t care for it much. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

  The car came to a stop in the heavy traffic. Horns blared around them.

  He turned to look at her, his gaze narrowed and his stare cold. “When did you last have your cycle?”

  She blinked, feeling a self-conscious blush steal through her. “You can’t be serious.”

  “We’ve been making love for weeks now, and I’ve realized you haven’t had one that I’m aware of.”

  She hesitated, trying to place the last time. “It wasn’t all that long before Italy. Are you worried?”

  “We didn’t use a condom when we were there.”

  She was confused for a moment, struggling to remember. Then the memory came “It was only for a moment, and then you put one on.”

  “It only takes a moment.”

  Her chest tightened. “Look, I’m not pregnant.”

  He arched a brow, his gaze still shockingly cold. “You should’ve had your cycle by now though. Am I wrong?”

  “Not necessarily,” she explained tentatively. “I’ve always been irregular. Sometimes going several weeks past when I should have one. I should’ve gone on the pill to regulate my cycle, but I’ve just put it off.”

  “You could be pregnant.”

  “Technically, yes, I suppose, but I doubt I am.” She gave a laugh of disbelief. This conversation was strangely surreal.

  “I have a test for you to take waiting at my house.”

  “Of course you do. Is that why you’re moving me in? Because you think I’m pregnant?”

  “It will be easier to move you in now, rather than wait until after we are married.”

  The words literally took a moment to sink in and make any kind of logical sense. Because he’d just thrown the word married at her, but there’d been no proposal. Or maybe this was some kind of crazy hallucination and she’d missed that part.

  “Are you high on something?” she choked out finally. “You want to get married?”

  “It only makes sense.”

  “Makes sense?” she parroted. As if this were some kind of logical step in a business deal.

  For one crazy moment she’d actually imagined that he loved her, and this was just his roundabout bizarre way of showing it. But no, it was all about control with him.

  Nausea swelled inside her and she turned to look at the streets the car was slowly creeping through. The driver up front, as always, was impeccable at ignoring their conversations. Or pretending to be.

  “We have an appointment tomorrow to choose a ring from an Italian jeweler who is flying in from Milan,” he stated offhandedly. He continued to discuss an engagement she knew he’d never wanted, and that she hadn’t agreed to.

  “Where is this coming from?” she interrupted and then put it together. “Jesus, did my brother call you? Again? ”

  His jaw tightened and she saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes, and knew she was right.

  “We’ve hardly been discreet, Rachel. There is more than one picture or story about us. For Christ’s sake there’s a shot of you feeding me corn at that Caribbean restaurant, with the caption, ‘Is she buttering him up for marriage?’ ”

  She winced at the terribly tacky headline. “My fault on the corn, sorry.”

  “That’s just it, none of this is your fault. It’s mine. I knew better than to sleep with you. You were right. You’re my P.A. and my friend’s sister. There were so many reasons to keep it platonic. To keep you out of my bed.”

  “Clearly I should’ve kept my legs closed,” she said crudely, stung and near tears.

  The car arrived outside his building and she climbed out before he could stop her. But he was right on her heels as she made her way inside. She should’ve just left, hailed a taxi to her apartment, but she wanted all her belongings that he’d had brought here. The presumptuous, controlling jerk. Thinking she would just agree to move in and marry him.

  What was happening? The past weeks had been sexy and fun, and now it had turned into something dark and domineering.

  By the time they’d taken the elevator to his penthouse, she’d finally decided what needed to be done.

  It nearly ripped her heart out, as she said flatly, “We’ll forget this getting married or moving-in craziness. I think it’s actually time to end things. I’ll have Michaela put out a press release tomorrow that we’re no longer involved.”

  “The hell you will.” His guttural reply had her stumbling back from him and against the wall of the foyer.

  She swallowed hard. “Look, this is exactly what we planned all along. You’ve got Maria off your back, and I�
�m...” Absolutely heartbroken. And she should’ve been prepared for this. She’d tried to be.

  “You’re what? That plan was for when Lionelli was still in the picture.”

  She tilted her chin, and couldn’t resist a mocking, “Who says he’s not?”

  His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He took a step closer. “I think we both know you no long have interest in Lionelli.”

  She didn’t reply, but lowered her lashes instead. There was no use trying to pretend she held interest in anyone but Damiano, but she wouldn’t stay with him because his conscience had kicked in.

  Maybe she was old-fashioned, but she wanted the person she married to love her as much as she did him. But Damiano didn’t love her. He didn’t love anybody. Sometimes she wondered if he even loved his mother.

  “It doesn’t matter who I want anymore.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I’ll grab my things and return to my apartment tonight.”

  The slight smile he gave her held no warmth, and his eyes held a menacing warning that slid a chill down her spine.

  “And how will you pay for that apartment when you no longer have a job?”

  Damiano felt a stab of guilt at the blatant shock in her eyes at his words. Her mouth parted and she made a small choked noise.

  “You promised you wouldn’t fire me.”

  The panic at her threat to quit had made him bluff. He couldn’t let her walk away. Not with the possibility of her being pregnant. Not with his oath to her brother.

  He reached out to rub his thumb over her bottom lip, felt that familiar, tenacious swell of arousal gather in him.

  “Consider being my wife a promotion,” he murmured lightly.

  Most women would. She wouldn’t have to work anymore, and instead would have access to all his money. It was what every woman wanted, wasn’t it?

  “How ridiculously arrogant to think that I would want that. I have no desire to be married to you.”

  He tilted his head and gave her a pointed look. “Yet you’re in love me.”

  Humiliation flared in her eyes, but she didn’t look away, didn’t back down. “A low blow, thank you very much. Yes I love you, but clearly that love is not reciprocated.”

  His chest tightened and he gave a strained smile. “Don’t take it so personally. I don’t love anyone.”

  She looked almost confused, before she gave a resolute shake of her head. “Well I won’t marry you. And I don’t think I really even want to work for you anymore. So there, all untidy ends are neatly clipped.”

  Panic rushed through him and he followed her into his bedroom. She was already reaching for several of her still-packed bags.

  “I think you may find it more difficult to find another job than you imagine. At least one of equal caliber. My opinion goes a long way in this city.”

  “Oh, you’re resorting to blackmail now? Really?” She shook her head, giving a laugh of disbelief. Her eyes had a faint sheen of tears. “This would almost be funny if it wasn’t so appalling. What is wrong with you?”

  He took the bags from her hands and set them back down. “I don’t trust easily. I refuse to fall in love. And, yes, I usually do get what I want, which makes me a bit entitled, I’m sure. More so, what isn’t wrong with me?”

  Her expression became one of confusion. “This isn’t you, Damiano. This isn’t the man I know.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me at all.”

  “I know you better than you think.” Instead of backing away from him, she looped her arms around his neck. “I think you care for me much more than you want to admit, and it terrifies you.”

  When he opened his mouth to deny it, she kissed him. Laid her lips against his and gave him a slow, deep kiss. Drawing a response from him, physical and emotional.

  He pulled her into his arms, so grateful to have her kissing him and not fighting him. Then she pulled away and he bit back a groan of protest. His body was awake to her again.

  She cupped his cheek. “Stop acting like a jerk, Damiano. I know you’re a decent guy. I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t.”

  He ignored the L word. “The bottom line is we work well together, Rachel. I’m past thirty and should be settling down. Us marrying is actually a rather smart business decision, once I stopped to consider it.”

  “Marriage is not a business decision.” She met his gaze, the disbelief right back in her eyes again. “Which reminds me. Would you like to know what Maria told me that night?”

  That gave him pause. “Sí. I believe I would.”

  “She told me the only thing I’m suitable for is being your assistant and your whore.”

  He swore under his breath. “She was jealous. It was a spiteful thing to say. I’m sorry, Rachel.”

  “I’m not, because she was completely right. I’m not suitable to date, let alone be married to someone like you. It’s what I’ve said all along.”

  “And now you are the one who sounds inane at the moment, Dolcezza.” With his blood still heated from her kiss, he began to loosen his tie. “With all of our lessons, I’ve already taught you how to be the perfect wife, no?”

  She saw the mix of wariness and need in her eyes.

  “I’m visualizing one you actually taught me while in Italy,” he murmured. “Where you were on your knees in front of me. Something about you pleasing your lover so skillfully, he will only want you.”

  Her gaze skimmed over his chest, then lower. She swallowed hard and shook her head. But not before he’d seen the flash of desire in her eyes. Even when they fought, this need would always be between them.

  “That won’t be happening again.” Her words were contrasted by the huskiness in which she spoke them.

  Today had not gone as he’d planned. He’d hoped to bring up the idea of marriage in a more romantic way that he knew she would prefer. But there’d been no chance when she’d learned about the move while in the car ride home.

  It had become bitter and heated, with her threatening to leave and refusing to marry him.

  Dio. Why was she so stubborn? She loved him and had admitted the fact. With the possibility of a baby growing inside her, there was no way he was allowing her to walk away from what they had.

  There was one way he knew he could convey how much she meant to him, and it didn’t involve talking.

  He closed the distance between them and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Fortunately, I also enjoy being on my knees, Dolcezza.”

  She made a soft groan of protest, pushing at his shoulders when he dipped his head to kiss the soft curve of her neck.

  “This will solve nothing, Damiano. We need to talk.”

  He gave a husky, knowing laugh. “I can think of one or two things it’ll solve immediately.”

  Reaching down, he pulled her skirt up her thighs and above her hips. He moved his palm between her legs and gave a low groan at the damp heat he felt there.

  “Tell me to stop now, Rachel. And I will.”

  She didn’t tell him to stop, but her head moved back and forth. She breathed heavier now.

  He smiled against the rapidly beating pulse in her neck, before closing his mouth over the sensitive skin there. She whimpered as he tugged her panties to the side, and then slid a finger into her slick heat.

  They both let out a low moan and her thighs closed around his hand. Desire ran through his blood like liquid fire.

  He fell to his knees before her and cradled her hips, pressing a kiss to her belly.

  “Merda. Do you see what you do to me?” he rasped. “I’ll always need you. Want you.”

  “But do you love me?” she whispered, not pushing him away, but holding him to her.

  The word yes resounded in his head. Turned his muscles to ice. A reply couldn’t be released however, and instead it lay dormant beneath the lump of fear in his throat. How had this happened? How had he let himself love?

  Chapter 23

  He tightened his fingers around her hips, struggling against
the realization that was as merciless as he’d been in his demands to Rachel.

  The scent of her arousal was the only thing grounding him. And he welcomed the primal, carnal need that overtook him.

  He tugged her panties down to her ankles and claimed her with his mouth. Tasting her and stroking her with an urgency that was as selfish as it was giving.

  Her choked cry of shock faded into a sob and she clutched his head to her. Her fingers deep in his hair and moving over his scalp.

  He teased and tasted her, unable to get enough, and she came all too soon with a shuddering cry. Her knees buckled and she began to fall, but he caught her, rising to his feet and swinging her into his arms.

  With her body still trembling, he carried her to the bed and removed all her clothes. After doing the same to himself, he put on protection and climbed onto the bed.

  She watched him through her lashes, which were spiked with tears. The sight made him still and shame lanced through him.

  “Rachel—”

  “I think we’ve done enough talking.” She pulled him down on top of her, parting her thighs so that he slid between them. “Just take me.”

  With her words encouraging him and his mind telling him he should ease her heartache, nature won out. He sank into her welcoming heat, inhaling sharply as her tight sheath clenched around him.

  Always, it was like coming home with her. Later, they would talk. He would tell her everything. But for now there was only this moment and the passion that drove it.

  Where usually their joining was hard and almost frenzied, this time he moved slowly inside her. Enjoying each thrust in, and each sensual pull back out. Marveling at how perfect they were together.

  They built to climax together and came just seconds apart. His mind was empty and his body was spent. He could do no more than ease off her and pull her into his arms.

  She didn’t resist and curled her body into his. The words, everything he needed to say, were in his head, spinning and trying to become rational.