Ultimate Heroes Collection

by Various Authors

  He looked at her with mounting exasperation. ‘Millions of people out there dream of winning the lottery so that they can give up work, and you’re telling me that, despite the fact that you are wealthier than people’s most avaricious fantasies, you want a job?’

  ‘That’s right. It isn’t about the money. It’s about independence. I want to earn my own money and meet people.’ For some reason this innocent statement seemed to increase his tension, and he sighed and stabbed his fingers into his hair.

  ‘I’m beginning to understand just how restricted your life has been so far, and I’m prepared to let you do many things. But getting a job isn’t one of them. There are people out there who aren’t very nice, and thanks to your father you have absolutely no experience of life.’

  ‘So you’re going to keep me locked up?’

  ‘Don’t start that again. I’m taking you to a nightclub,’ he reminded her. ‘So I can hardly be accused of locking you up.’

  ‘How many bodyguards will we have?’

  ‘You’ll have me,’ he said grimly. ‘And if anyone so much as glances at you they’re going to find themselves in hospital.’

  She stared at the hard lines of his handsome face and felt something flip inside her. It would have been all too easy to believe that he cared about her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HE TOOK her to an exclusive nightclub and she danced until her body ached and her lungs threatened to burst.

  Infected by the music and the electric atmosphere, Chessie discovered a sense of rhythm that she hadn’t known she possessed, and she danced and swayed, aware that Rocco was showing no interest in anyone but her. As the dancing brought them close and then parted them again, their eyes met and the tension rose, sizzling to dangerous levels.

  By the time they left the club something was alive between them, and the moment Rocco closed the bedroom door there was no longer any doubt about his intentions.

  ‘I’ve been waiting to do this all night,’ he groaned, taking her face in his hands and bringing his mouth down on hers. ‘I’m not sure that going out with you in public is going to work for me. I’m rapidly discovering that my self-control isn’t as impressive as I thought it was.’

  And she suddenly discovered that she no longer cared about going out. All she wanted was to be with Rocco.

  Her lips parted under the determined pressure of his, and she shivered with excitement as she felt the erotic skill of his kiss. He always had this effect on her. One kiss was all it took. Her head swam, her knees weakened and her stomach flipped. And perhaps he knew how she was feeling, because he kept his mouth on hers while his hands moved to her back, and he was still kissing her as her dress slithered to the floor, leaving her standing in only her underwear.

  ‘Rocco—’ she gasped his name as excitement gripped her, and felt the warmth and strength of his hands as he moved her towards the bed.

  He lifted his head just enough to speak, and his dark eyes were full of promise. ‘You once asked me if I thought you were sexy,’ he said huskily. ‘I think you now have your answer. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.’

  She pushed the jacket from his shoulders, driven by a feverish impatience to be closer to him. ‘I thought you didn’t want your wife to be sexy.’

  ‘I was wrong about that.’

  ‘Wrong, Rocco?’ Despite the alarming rate of her heart, she still managed to tease him. ‘I didn’t think you were capable of being wrong.’

  He gave a predatory smile, tipped her back on the bed and took his weight on his arms, so that he hovered over her. ‘On this occasion I’ll try and live with it,’ he murmured, his own breathing quickening as she released the buttons of his shirt.

  ‘Take it off,’ she urged as she slid her hands over his chest. ‘I want to see all of you.’ The broad spread of hair over his pectorals narrowed at the base of his ribcage, drawing the eye downwards, towards temptation.

  She reached for the belt of his trousers just as the shirt joined the jacket in a discarded heap on the floor.

  ‘Not yet.’ He pushed her back down onto the bed and slid his hands down her body. ‘There’s something I need to do—’

  She felt him remove the wisp of silk that was the only thing covering her, and then gently push her thighs apart. A flicker of hesitation cut through her excitement as she realised his intention, and she felt the colour warm her cheeks as she felt the slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue touching her intimately.

  She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but all that emerged was a whimper of ecstasy as his mouth seduced her with an astonishing degree of expertise.

  How could he know so much about her body? she wondered dimly as she shifted her hips against the sheets in an attempt to relieve the almost unbearable tension inside her. How did he know exactly how to touch her?

  Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the incredible sensations any longer, he moved back up her body, slid an arm underneath her and entered her with a decisive thrust that wiped every coherent thought from her head.

  ‘Dio, you feel good,’ he groaned, surging into her without restraint. His strength blended with her own burning heat, and the incredible intimacy drove the breath from her body. She felt the thickness of his arousal, felt the incredible sensations brought on by the skill and power of his thrust, and almost immediately exploded into an orgasm so intense that she gasped against his mouth, her nails digging into his back.

  He slowed the pace, his movements more languorous but no less arousing and she felt the sensations build in her body with astonishing speed. Then she peaked again, her cry of disbelief smothered by the seductive pressure of his mouth.

  Weakened and dazed, she lifted her hands to his chest. ‘You have to stop—’

  ‘Why?’ he growled the word against her mouth. ‘Why would I want to stop anything so fantastic?’

  Looking up at him, she was enveloped in a sensuous haze. He looked dark and dangerous and incredibly sexy. ‘Because I can’t—’

  ‘You can, angelo mio,’ he drawled softly. ‘As you’re about to find out.’ He shifted her position slightly and she gave a whimper of disbelief as she felt her body respond instantly to the change.

  ‘Rocco, no—’

  ‘Yes—‘ He increased the pace and she lifted her hips to meet the demands of his, her body exploding with sensations she was unable to resist.

  This time when she exploded into orgasm it didn’t end. It just went on and on, consuming and devouring her, until she heard Rocco mutter something against her mouth, felt his sudden tension and the explosive molten release of his own climax.

  Only then did her body finally release her from its state of erotic suspension.

  Breathless and weakened, Chessie lay under him, aware of slick male muscle, harsh breathing and the power of his physique. But despite his weight she didn’t want him to move—didn’t want the moment to ever end.

  Finally he lifted his head and looked down at her. But he said nothing.

  She could feel him inside her still, and the connection was deliciously intimate.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was gruff. ‘I promised to use contraception and I’m afraid I didn’t think of it.’

  She hadn’t thought of it either. And suddenly she realised that the reason she hadn’t thought of it was because she hadn’t cared. All she’d thought about was being with him. She loved him.

  The sudden realisation exploded in her head, pushing all other thoughts aside, and she lay still, digesting the enormity of her discovery.

  ‘You’re upset about it. I can see that.’ He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. ‘I really am sorry. Whatever you may think, I did intend to protect you.’

  She struggled to speak. ‘I’m not upset.’ His hand gently stroked her back. ‘Something’s the matter. I can tell.’

  She’d just discovered that she was in love. That was what was the matter.

  But Rocco didn’t do love. She knew that.

  ‘I was jus
t thinking about today,’ she said finally, knowing that some explanation was necessary and unable to offer him the truth. ‘It was incredible. The best day of my life. Thank you.’ On impulse she lifted her head and kissed him gently. She saw a faint frown touch his eyebrows and saw him hesitate. Would he say something affectionate?

  Chessie held herself still, waiting.

  But he simply drew her closer and his eyes closed.

  She wasn’t going to let herself be disappointed, she told herself as she heard the rhythm of his breathing change, indicating that he was asleep. He’d shown that he cared about her and that was the main thing.

  They stayed in Florence for another month. During that time Rocco managed to track down her mother.

  ‘She’s on a world cruise,’ he said dryly, handing a number to Chessie. ‘Are you sure you want to call her? It seems to me that she did very little to make your hideous childhood better.’

  ‘She did what she could,’ Chessie said softly, staring at the number. ‘I’ve often thought that she probably only stayed with my father because of me. I’d like to speak to her. We weren’t exactly close, but it feels like the right thing to do.’

  So she rang and had a short conversation with her mother, who was obviously determined to enjoy her new-found freedom and her new life.

  As Chessie was enjoying her new life, too.

  From Florence, Rocco took her to Rome, Sienna, Venice and Verona. They stayed in palatial hotel rooms, always with Rocco’s security team on hand. And they accompanied her on her many sightseeing trips when he was working, because Rocco refused to let her wander the streets alone.

  One afternoon she returned early from a visit to Pompeii, feeling incredibly sick. Too much sun, she thought as she took the lift straight up to the Presidential Suite, trying to subdue the queasy feeling in her stomach.

  Rocco was working in the living room—papers spread over the table, the phone hooked between his ear and his shoulder as he scribbled in the margin of a report.

  ‘The advert isn’t right,’ he was saying in a gritty tone. ‘Get them back in, and if they can’t do a better job then fire them and get four more companies to pitch for the account.’ He replaced the phone and then noticed her standing in the doorway. ‘Are you all right? You look pale.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Too much sun and sightseeing, I expect.’ She gave him a wan smile, intending to go through to the bedroom for a lie-down. But then a glossy picture of a couple in a restaurant caught her eye. ‘What’s that? Why are you looking so angry?’

  ‘Not angry,’ he assured her, stabbing his fingers through his hair and waving a hand at the documents. ‘Frustrated. My team have given the olive oil account to what is supposedly the best advertising agency around, and they have come up with nothing original. A child with a marker pen could have done a more creative job.’

  She picked up the glossy pictures. ‘I don’t know anything about advertising. What are these supposed to be?’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘The fact that you even have to ask says a great deal about the lack of success they’re having,’ he drawled in a weary tone. ‘What you’re holding is the advert they’ve designed to go into the print media—magazines and things,’ he explained hastily, when he saw the blank look on her face. ‘And these are storyboards, outlining their concept for a television advert. It’s all wrong.’

  She stared at the picture of the man and the woman dining in what was obviously an exclusive restaurant. ‘What did you want?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ he said honestly. ‘Which is why they were appointed. Normally I leave this sort of thing to the board of my Italian division, but I made the mistake of getting personally involved in the olive oil project. The problem is I know what I don’t want. And I don’t want anything they’ve so far presented me with.’

  Chessie frowned down at the picture. ‘Presumably they’re trying to show that the product is exclusive by putting two people in a restaurant. But you just don’t get the feel of Sicily from this, do you? This couple could be anywhere, and they could be eating anything. You wouldn’t know it was anything to do with olive oil if it weren’t for the bottle in the corner—’ She broke off, suddenly aware that she was talking about a subject that was entirely unfamiliar to her.

  ‘Don’t stop.’ His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Go on.’

  She coloured slightly. ‘Well, I don’t know anything about advertising, but a picture is supposed to tell a s-story,’ she stammered, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. ‘This picture tells me that the couple are out and having a good time, but it doesn’t say anything about the oil.’

  ‘So what would you say about the oil? What would you put in the picture?’

  Chessie gave an embarrassed shrug. ‘I don’t know. I—’ Oh, what the heck? she thought to herself, reaching for a pen from the table and finding a blank sheet of paper. ‘I suppose I’d try and link the picture to the origins of the oil itself. The heat, the smells, the feel of Sicily. That’s why the oil is good. It’s the real thing. I know because I’ve picked those olives. This picture they’ve done could be anywhere, but if I was designing a picture I’d put the couple in Sicily.’ Her pen flew over the page as she did a rough sketch. ‘People looking at the picture should feel as though they’re there. It should get them to associate the oil with the wonders of Sicily …’ Her voice tailed off and suddenly she felt mortified. ‘Sorry. I’ve never drawn an advert or anything. I don’t know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘On the contrary. What you’re saying makes perfect sense.’ He took the picture from her and nodded decisively. ‘It’s good. You can present your ideas and they can use them.’

  ‘You’re jokingl’ Her eyes widened. ‘They might hate them.’

  ‘So what? I love them, and it’s my money and my product they’re trying to ruin.’ He dropped the picture on the table and hauled her against him, moulding her against his powerful frame.

  She tried not to be distracted. ‘I don’t know anything about advertising.’

  ‘But you do know a great deal about art, and you have an incredible eye. Also you’re not jaded from working on countless accounts of a similar nature. You wanted a job, cara mia. I’m prepared to give you one. You can oversee production of the ad campaign for the olive oil. I want you to approve what they do.’

  She pushed against his hard frame, trying to ignore the rush of dark, dizzying pleasure that came just from being close to him. ‘No one will listen to me. I don’t have any credentials. I—’

  ‘You need to have more confidence in your skills,’ he commanded, releasing her with a sexy smile and reaching for his phone. ‘What you’ve drawn in two minutes with a standard-issue hotel pen is vastly superior to anything produced by the creative department of the agency to whom I’m currently paying a small fortune. But it’s your decision. Do you want the job or not? Yes or no?’ He held the phone in his hand, one brow raised in question, and she felt suddenly breathless.

  Terror mingled with excitement. ‘Yes—no—’

  There was humour in his eyes. ‘You were supposed to choose between the two options, but I’ll make an executive decision and take your first answer.’ He dialled a number and waited, his eyes thoughtful as he watched her. Then he instructed whoever was on the end of the phone to arrange for the agency to fly down the following day. When he replaced the receiver she swallowed hard, her stomach fluttering with nerves.

  ‘What if I do it and it all goes wrong?’

  ‘Then I fire you, tesoro,’ Rocco drawled, dropping the phone into his pocket. ‘But don’t worry. I’ll console you in the bedroom. You still look pale. Are you sure you’re not overdoing the sightseeing?’

  ‘It’s incredibly hot today. I thought I’d sit on the terrace and sketch in the shade this afternoon. I could think about your advert. Do some more detailed sketches.’

  He gave a wicked smile. ‘Or maybe you should lie down in a dark room. My advert can wait.’

  She woke the next morning
relieved to find that the sickness had passed, but feeling nervous about the meeting with her advertising agency. Up until now her sketches had only ever been for her pleasure. No one else had ever seen them.

  Anxious about the impression she’d make, she dressed carefully and scooped her hair into what she hoped was a serious, businesslike style.

  ‘You look incredibly sexy,’ Rocco growled as he strolled into the bathroom to pick up his watch. ‘Wear something different.’

  Chessie checked her reflection and then glanced at him with exasperation. ‘Rocco, the suit is grey and it’s incredibly sober.’

  ‘Then it’s not the suit, it’s you,’ he breathed, running a hand over the back of his neck. ‘Perhaps I was stupid to allow you to mastermind this campaign.’

  Wondering why such a possessive statement didn’t annoy her, Chessie sighed. ‘Just because you find me attractive, it doesn’t mean everyone else does too.’

  His eyes darkened. ‘Don’t you believe it. It’s a good job I’m going to be there with you.’

  ‘Do I look all right—seriously?’

  ‘Seriously?’ He gave a faint smile. ‘You look more than all right. In fact I’m thinking of firing you before you’ve started, just so that I can take you back to bed.’

  A warm glow of happiness spread through her body. ‘That’s a very sexist remark.’

  ‘You wanted me to find you sexy, tesoro,’ he reminded her in a soft drawl. ‘You’re not in a position to complain.’

  And she had no intention of complaining. She loved the fact that he found her sexy—loved the fact that he was so obviously addicted to her body.

  She didn’t need more from him, she told herself firmly as she finished her make-up and picked up the sketches she’d worked on the previous evening.

  There was a flutter of nerves in her stomach as Rocco gently pushed her into the room. It seemed as though a huge number of people were seated round the large oval table, and the murmur of conversation ceased as she slid into a vacant seat, feeling hideously self-conscious.

  This was ridiculous, she thought to herself. Why would they listen to her?