There were no more words spoken. None were necessary. He let his free hand wander, absorbing the delicious sensation of her skin beneath his palm, smoothing the loosened dress from each of her shoulders so it fell to the crook of her arms. She lifted her arms out of the sleeves, he heard the rustle of fabric fall from her hips to puddle at her feet, and she stepped out of it. Her knees brushed against his groin with the action and he groaned.
His cock was a greedy bastard, wanting in, wanting her, but he breathed deep, searching for control. Desperate to take his time, yet unable to. They only had a few stolen moments. Soon someone would be looking for him, searching for the both of them, and he couldn’t have anyone find them like this. A select few had a master key to the entire building, two of them being his brothers. The very last thing he wanted them to discover was a naked Ella in his arms.
“Hurry,” she whispered as if she could read his mind. Her hands went for his belt, nimble fingers undoing the buckle, then tugging the leather strip from the loops before it fell to the floor with a loud thud. The erotic whisper of his zipper being undone was next and then she undid the snap of his trousers. Reaching in with eager fingers, she slipped beneath his boxer briefs, grasping him in a firm grip.
“Jesus,” he choked out. “Let me get a condom.”
“You have one?” She sounded incredulous.
“When I know I’m going to be near you, hell yes, I always carry one.”
She laughed, the sound doing something odd to his stomach, making it pitch and float, causing his heart to lurch hard against his ribs. “Well, grab it then.” Her voice was sultry, full of promise.
He reached behind him, pulling out his wallet, plucking the wrapper nestled within. With shaking fingers he tore into it and she took the circle from him, tugging his underwear down to his thighs. His cock sprang out, heavy and hard, a drop of pre-come glistening in the tip. She touched him there, with the very tip of her finger, smothering it all over the head.
“Fuck,” Rhett whispered. “You’re torturing me.”
She laughed again, slipped the condom on, and he wasted no time. Shifting, he held her in place against the wall and pushed the crotch of her panties out of the way. He impaled her, earning a ragged moan for his efforts. Pumping slowly, in and out, knocking her harder and harder against the wall with his every thrust.
Ella encouraged him with small moans and murmured words, begging him to go faster, harder. More, more, more. He fell under her spell, giving her what she wanted. Faster, harder and more, until he gave her everything he had. Reaching between them, he brushed his finger against her swollen clit, the action causing her inner walls to clench around his cock extra tight.
“I’m going—to—come,” she panted raggedly against his mouth.
“Come for me, baby,” he encouraged, his own orgasm barreling down on him. A tingle started at the base of his spine and his balls drew up tight against his body. He wasn’t going to last, it had been too long since he’d been inside her and it felt too damn good to hold back now.
With a low groan, he erupted, his cock pulsating, his entire body shuddering with his orgasm. His chest heaved, his heart thumped in time with the rhythmic clenches of her sex around his cock. She came just after him, moaning his name, her limbs trembling as she clutched him close.
He held her, her face pressed against the crook of his neck, her arms slack around him. They stayed that way for long, quivery minutes, until their breaths evened out and their bodies calmed.
“Come home with me,” he whispered in her ear before dropping a kiss on it. “Please.”
She nodded, the movement so subtle he hardly noticed it.
Triumph slipped through him, filled him to bursting. She was his. She belonged to him.
And he couldn’t wait to declare it to the world.
Chapter Eighteen
Ella nestled close to Rhett in the backseat of the hired car, her head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her still-frayed nerves. What had started as an almost impossible day to face was ending up being the absolute best day of her life.
And she still had a few hours to go. All of them spent with Rhett, in his arms, in his apartment, in his life.
She could hardly believe her good fortune.
He had his arm slung around her shoulder, his fingers drifting up and down her upper arm absently. Holding on to her as if he owned her, as if she belonged so close to him, and she couldn’t protest. Couldn’t begin to find the words to complain.
It felt too delicious, being so close to him. Her every silly dream come true.
“I’ll send someone to your apartment to gather your belongings,” Rhett said, his voice a sexy rumble beneath her ear. “Move all your stuff into my place.”
Lifting her head, she met his gaze. “Isn’t that going a little too fast?”
“I don’t think so.” He reached out, settled his hand against her cheek. She nuzzled his palm, a shiver moving through her at the gentle way he caressed her. “I don’t want to waste any more time without you, Gabriella.”
His words a balm to her slightly frazzled soul, she turned her head so she could press a kiss to his palm. A low growl sounded from him and he bent, brushing his mouth with hers, his hand still cradling her face. She melted into the kiss, opening to him, never wanting it to end…
A phone rang and Rhett gently nudged her away. “It’s yours,” he whispered. “You should get it.”
She plucked the irritating phone from her purse and saw that it was her father. Anxiously she answered it. “How are you? How’s Italy?”
Her earlier feelings of betrayal evaporated with her happiness. She couldn’t wait to tell her father the excitement over the positive reception of her scent.
“Bah. That place, it’s abysmal. I’m already home,” her father griped.
“What do you mean? Why didn’t you tell me?” She took a deep breath. “What happened?” She glanced at Rhett, saw that he watched her with a troubled expression on his face.
“The Renaldis are nothing but a bunch of arrogant Italians who cannot make up their minds. They want this. No, they want that. They fight with their father who has final word and he can hardly conjure up any words, he is so sick.” Michel Durand grunted in disgust. “I could take it no longer. I asked to be bought out of my contract and left yesterday.”
“Father. You barely worked for them. How could you ask to be bought out of the contract?” Talk about arrogant. He had some nerve.
“My time is valuable, non? I think you could learn something valuable by all the things I do.”
“Oh, trust me. I’ve learned plenty.” Both things she should and shouldn’t do, but she didn’t feel like getting into that at the moment. “I met with the Worth executives today. They loved my scent.”
“Really, my darling? Well, that’s odd considering Rhett Worth called me and asked for a meeting.” The tone of his voice was unmistakably triumphant. “I think he wants to beg me to come back.”
Shock swept over her, rendering her blood ice-cold. Carefully she extracted herself from Rhett’s grip, scooting clear across the bench seat so she could press against the door. “Are you serious?”
“Would I lie to you, my daughter? I am meeting with him. I am reconsidering my letting such an opportunity go. Now, I’m sure they played along nicely and enjoyed the little scent you created, but how many ingredients did it take, hmm? And how many other scents does it smell like? It is so hard to be an original with such little experience on your side, don’t you know?”
His words sliced her open like a thousand knives cutting across her skin. “How could you do this to me?” She kept her voice pitched low, waved her hand at Rhett when he made to slide across the seat and join her.
“You did this to yourself, with your high expectations and eagerness to please. This is a cutthroat business. You should well be warned of it.”
“You’re jealous.” Realization dawned the moments the words came to her. “You h
ate that I’m finding success when you’ve had such trouble obtaining it for so long.”
“Crazy talk. You have no idea what I feel. I am a perfume master. I have taught the best, I have created the best. I am unheralded in the industry.”
“You are an old man who lives in the past. You haven’t created a successful perfume in years.” She spoke the blunt truth, had held her tongue for far too many years to count.
Well, no longer. He may have been a master, but he was a faded one at best.
“Ungrateful brat. I taught you everything you know,” he spat.
She hung up on him before he could get another angry word in. She was already upset enough, didn’t need to hear any more of his hateful words, discover more of his treachery.
“What happened with your father?” Rhett asked.
She jerked her head, glaring at him. “Why did you call him?”
He frowned. “I never called him.”
“Really? So you don’t have an appointment with him this week sometime? To discuss his coming back to Worth and taking over my position?”
He pressed his lips together, his expression resigned. “He called me, Gabriella. I swear it.”
“When?” She bit back a sob, pressed her fingers to her lips. She didn’t know who to believe.
Closing his eyes briefly, he thumped his head against the back of the seat. “A few days ago. I thought he wanted to discuss you, but all he did was go on about how he let the opportunity to work for us get away from him. Trust me, I didn’t say a word to encourage him. Then he asked to meet with me. Questioning if we could somehow come to an agreement and have him work for us, alongside you.”
“And what did you tell him?” She almost didn’t want to know the answer.
“He was so upset, I wasn’t about to deny him over the phone. So I…humored him. Told him we could meet when he returned to the States and talk it over.” This time he did lean toward her, reaching for her hands so he could clutch them in his. “I have no plans of replacing you. None of us do. Are you already forgetting what happened in that meeting? They love you.”
Supposedly, so did her father, yet he was undercutting her without a care to her position, her feelings. “I want to believe you.”
Rhett released his hold on her. “But you can’t. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know what I’m saying!” She threw her hands up in the air, completely overcome. “He is my father yet he wants to take my position without a care as to how I might feel. You should’ve heard the things he said, the way he spoke to me. And the things I said to him.” The sob came now. It felt good to let it out.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she shook her head. “He has always put himself first, even when I was a child. I was just too blinded by love to see it. Or admit it.”
“Gabriella…” Rhett reached for her again and she jerked away.
“No. Don’t touch me. Take me back to my apartment.” She drew away from him as far as she could, her arms crossed in front of her, her chest tight.
“What? I thought you were coming home with me.”
“I need to be alone. I need to think this through.” She sent him an imploring look. “Please, Rhett. I can’t—I can’t deal with everything tonight. I need some time by myself.”
He looked ready to argue, his entire body taut, his lips parted. Finally, he leaned back against the seat with an exasperated sigh. “I can give you that. But know this—I would never lie to you. I would never go behind your back or double-cross you. I will always put you first, no matter what.”
Turning away from him, she stared out the window, at the busy city streets that passed. She desperately wanted to believe him. But if her own father couldn’t be trusted, then how could she trust Rhett, whom she’d really only just met?
It hurt too much to question.
Rhett sat behind his desk, quietly raging inside. The emotion was the only thing fueling him, prepping him for his confrontation with Michel Durand.
The man was an unmitigated bastard who didn’t have an ounce of caring toward his daughter. That he could be so callous, so dismissive of her feelings and accomplishments, rendered Rhett speechless.
It also made him madder than hell.
The man would arrive in mere moments and he’d spent the last half hour working in preparation. Remembering one last thing, he called his assistant Kara.
“Gabriella Durand will arrive in approximately…” He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes. I want you to tell her the moment she arrives she may come directly into my office. Don’t escort her in, don’t ask her to wait. Just let her come right in.”
“Of course. I’m assuming Mr. Durand will arrive soon?”
“I believe so. Miss Durand’s arrival won’t disrupt us. I can assure you of that.”
“Not a problem,” Kara said crisply. “I will do exactly as you ask.”
“Thank you.” He hung up, pleased. She was the best damn assistant he’d ever had. The only assistant, for that matter.
He bided his time, watching the minutes tick past while doing a bit of last-minute research via Google. Looking up the Renaldi family and digging up their situation. Three brothers and a sister who ran various branches under a brand much like Worth, he already knew. Launching a new perfume—not a word about it. But there was plenty of information regarding Giorgio Renaldi’s health failing.
Interesting.
Within minutes, Michel Durand entered his office, all smiles and jovial greetings. Rhett was coolly polite, not wanting to reveal his true feelings yet. The man had no idea of his involvement with his daughter. That Rhett knew from their conversation yesterday Durand was a liar.
Rhett had no place in his life for liars.
“So, you want me back, eh?” Michel asked cockily after settling in his seat across from Rhett’s desk.
Rhett smiled thinly. “Aren’t you the one who wanted to meet with me?”
Durand’s expression slipped a bit. “Well yes, I did. But I’m assuming you were so agreeable because you’re displeased with the work Gabriella is doing.”
Pressing his lips together, Rhett rested his clasped hands on top of his desk. The man’s very presence boiled his blood, let alone the horrible things he said. “Whatever gave you that assumption? I’m merely curious to see what you might say.”
“You would like to know what I have to say? Fine, I shall tell you.” Durand leaned forward in his seat. “I want the in-house perfumer job. I can do it much better than my daughter and you know it. I have twice as much experience as she. Three times, even. I have seen many things and done more. My creativity, my scents are legend. You would be a fool to turn away this offer of my expertise.”
Rhett arched a brow. The gall of the man was unbelievable. “You certainly don’t think little of yourself, do you?”
“Of course not! I have too much experience not to be proud of my accomplishments. I have taken a break, too long of one, and now I am ready to get back to work. Get back to creating. And I want to create for Worth.”
“So what happened with Renaldi?”
Durand appeared taken aback. “Renaldi? What do you mean?”
“You worked for them, albeit briefly. What happened?”
“How do you know of Renaldi and my association with them?”
Rhett leaned back in his chair. “I have my ways.” As if he would reveal anything to Durand, especially the fact that he was half in love with his daughter. Not yet, anyway.
“It didn’t work. A brief distraction, nothing more.” Durand waved his hand, dismissing his association with Renaldi with a flick of his fingers.
“So you think you can come back in here and take over Gabriella’s job because it didn’t work out for you with Renaldi. Interesting.” Rhett shook his head. “You realize you haven’t asked how she’s doing?”
Durand frowned. “How who’s doing?”
“Your daughter.” You bastard. Rhett sat up straight. “Gabriella.”
�
��Ah.” Again, another wave of his hand, another dismissal. “She is a simpleton. Raw talent, to be sure, but she needs years more experience to hone it.”
“Here is where we’ll disagree.” Ah, the satisfaction would come now, he was sure of it. “She’s a brilliant perfumer who captured exactly what we were looking for.”
Durand reminded silent for a long, still moment before finally clamping his lips together. “Then what you look for is most likely too simple.”
“First you insult your daughter, and now you insult me. Have you no shame?” Rhett smiled, but it was more like a grimace, he could feel it. “Walking into my office as if you own it, demanding a job you carelessly ignored, trying to take it from your very accomplished and soon to be very successful daughter. You have tremendous nerve.” Rhett paused. “Or perhaps you’re tremendously stupid.”
Ah, that did it. Michel Durand leapt to his feet, his face beet red, his hands clutched into fists at his sides. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner?”
Rhett stood as well, towering over the man. Thank Christ the desk was in between them, or he would’ve grabbed Durand by the scruff of his neck and given him a good shake. “I could ask you much the same.”
This was happening far too quickly. Durand could be out of his office within minutes and usually Gabriella was punctual—early even.
“Turning me away would be a mistake, Worth. One you would be extremely foolish to make. I have access to every single element out there in the world. I could make any scent you desire, exactly to your specifications. Unique and special enough that no one could duplicate it in all the world. And yet you waste your opportunity on a young, untried girl who probably flashed you a pretty smile and a glimpse of her long legs and you fell for it.” Durand laughed when he saw the murderous expression on Rhett’s face. “Ah, I know you. You are nothing but a dog who wants to mess around with the ladies. Your reputation will always be for public record, you know. My poor, pretty daughter wouldn’t know how to turn you away. She isn’t smart or strong enough to withstand you.”
Worth the Challenge Page 19