“No—No, I’m not.” She reached up and grabbed hold of his biceps, as if needing something solid to hold onto.
“Oh, baby, you are. Do I make you tremble?” At her silence, he moved his lips to hers and kissed her gently. “Are you ready now? I’m going to kiss you.” Just as he said it, he tugged her lower lip between his teeth and she let out a tiny, uncontrollable moan.
He ran his lips over hers, taking in her scent, the feel of her, as he slid his fingers to her chin and pulled it down, demanding access to the interior of her sweet mouth. He slipped his tongue inside, steeled his guts against his instantaneous response to her, and tried like hell to be gentle.
He would let himself kiss her now, but that’s all he’d allow himself. He absolutely couldn’t risk her running from him—the thought of her leaving—of her being scared of him, not wanting to stay here with him, just didn’t sit right with him. He wanted her to be comfortable with him, wanted her to be happy so she’d stay here and continue to live in his home—and eventually—sleep in his bed.
With that thought in mind, he ruthlessly pulled himself back from the brink. Removing his arm from around her waist as he continued to kiss her, he lifted the shirt and covered her again. He ended the kiss slowly, only allowing himself a few more seconds of heated bliss, and then moved away from her, putting her at arm’s length from him.
He watched her as she slowly opened her eyes. What he saw there almost decimated him. There was desire—but there was fear as well. Fear and confusion. He tried to care—to put himself in a place where he could think about letting her go. But he couldn’t. It was out of his power. He could do a lot of things to make things easier for her. He could go slowly with her, seduce her softly and gently. But let her go?
There was absolutely no fucking way. It couldn’t be done. It was out of his control.
* * *
Natalie heard the sound of the door shutting behind Marco and she stood trembling uncontrollably in front of her dresser. Oh, she was in trouble. Never before had she been kissed the way he’d kissed her. Never in her life had she ever felt anything that even remotely compared to the way he’d just made her feel. Her stomach hadn’t stopped doing somersaults yet; she imagined it would take awhile to come down again.
Confusion lacerated her insides. Nothing in her past had ever given her any reason to think she could trust a man. Her father—the pain was so intense from what he had done she couldn’t even go there in her brain. What he’d done to her mother—no, she wouldn’t think about it. And it had taken her mother a few years to let go and trust another man. And that wasn’t turning out very pretty. Even Natalie’s boyfriend in high school, the one she’d given her virginity to, had broken her heart so deeply and thoroughly, she hadn’t dated much since.
And now here was Marco. A man she knew to be eight years her senior, the CEO of a bank, and the most intensely ruthless man she’d ever encountered. He wanted her—there was no getting around that fact. And she’d bet the four-hundred-and-sixty-eight dollars in her checking account that he always got what he wanted.
So how did she feel about him? Well, for one, she’d never met a sexier man in her life, and there was no doubt, he turned her on. But he seemed to have a personality that was more than dominant, and quite frankly, it intimidated her. If only she had some control over the situation, she’d feel a hundred times better. And on top of all that angst, there was the matter of twenty-thousand dollars.
But, dear God, his kisses. His kisses had been—mind blowing.
Chapter Six
The next morning at nine o’clock, Natalie phoned Marco’s office and asked for Joy. After an initially stilted conversation about the day’s itinerary, Natalie had opened up and expressed her fears about the evening. She’d asked the other woman for input and reassurance and she’d gotten it. Joy had known Marco for a number of years, she knew his tastes and the type of women he dated. She knew about the charity function they would be attending that night.
She’d chatted sweetly to Natalie—had it been Natalie’s imagination that the woman’s voice had pepped up when informed that Marco had broken up with Tanya—and said Natalie would be fine.
When the car had pulled up at ten, the morning’s itinerary was all mapped out. The shopping and the salon—all were prearranged and Natalie only had to go along for the ride and choose what she wanted.
The dress she’d found was perfect. It was more expensive than what she’d ever buy in her life, but the price tag hadn’t been on it and she hadn’t known the cost until later. She’d hoped for the perfect little black dress, but that’s not what she’d ended up with. No, this dress was a white sheath, simple in design, but when Natalie had slipped it over her head, the garment had come to life. It was short; a few inches above her knees, and coupled with silver diamante heels, made her appear taller than she was. The back was low, not ridiculously low, but it couldn’t be worn with a bra. The front of the dress was lined for just that reason.
Next the car had pulled in front of a salon, where Natalie had been led inside and pampered to within an inch of her life. The decision to have her hair and nails done was taken away from her; it was a given that she was there for the ‘works.’ She’d left the salon with an array of cosmetics, and a pair of costume drop-earrings that sparkled.
Standing now in her bedroom in front of the mirror, she couldn’t contain the apprehension that screamed down her spine. She wanted to look nice, but she was scared about the coming evening where she knew for a fact that she’d be out of her element, and she had a niggling worry about all the money that had been spent.
Marco had arrived from work sometime before, and Natalie knew he was in his room getting ready.
His knock on her door came too soon; she hadn’t had a chance to calm her nerves yet.
She walked to the door and opened it, and what she saw there had her completely forgetting about the state of her nerves. Marco stood in front of her, dressed in a designer black suit, and although she’d seen him in a suit many times, this one packed an added punch.
Her hand trembled on the doorframe as he stood still in the threshold, studying her, but completely silent as he did it.
Her brow wrinkled and she felt a pinch at the back of her throat. “Hi,” she managed.
“Hi, yourself. You look—different,” he said.
Natalie’s stomach dropped to her feet. She so wanted to look nice tonight but his statement didn’t sound good at all. Her eyes dropped from his and her hands twisted together.
He lifted her chin with one finger and her eyes met his. “I’m sorry. I screwed that up. Let me try again. You look beautiful.” His words were exactly what Natalie wanted to hear, but his manner suggested he wasn’t telling her the truth. His lips were pressed flat, his brows were pulled down in a frown, and there was a visible tic in his cheek.
She remained silent as he examined her, and she concentrated on taking one breath after the other. His hand left her chin and slid to an earring where he touched it—picked it up and looked at it—then let it drop, his hand sliding to the curve between her neck and shoulder. Natalie sucked in a breath and watched him from under her lashes as his eyes lifted to her hair where the stylist had managed an elaborate partial up-do, leaving the length to fall back down to her neck.
Finally, he spoke again, his thumb making swipes across the pulse in her neck. “What’d you do to your hair?”
“It’s an up-do.” Her brain was fragmented; she couldn’t concentrate on the conversation they were having, not while his touch was on her and his awesome scent was filling her nostrils.
“I’m talking about the color. It wasn’t that way when you left this morning, was it?” His voice was brusque, in direct opposition to the way his hand caressed her.
“Oh—no. Chris added highlights.” She swallowed hard, trying to stay steady on her heels while she attempted to guess at his meaning. “You don’t like them?”
He didn’t answer her question; he ignored i
t completely as he continued with his own line of questioning. “Chris. As in Christine?”
She forced her brain off his intimate touch, his hand now splaying across her throat, and remembered the stylist who had worked on her hair. “No, probably Christopher.”
“Christopher? A man styled your hair?” His tone was sharp as his hand fell to her shoulder and gripped tightly, drawing her a few inches toward his torso.
Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she managed to answer him. “Yes.”
A dark frown settled over his features but then his eyes lifted to her hair again and he sucked in a breath. “He’s probably gay.”
Natalie couldn’t keep up with the myriad of emotions showing on his features—not when her own were in shambles. “I don’t know—I didn’t think much about it.”
“How could you not think about it? His hands were in your hair.”
“I don’t know—I was too involved with the cut and color—I didn’t think about whether the masseuse was gay or straight either.”
Dead silence came between them and his cheekbones became tinged with red. He breathed in deeply. “A man gave you a massage?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t arrange it, Marco—or even ask for one. Joy did.”
“And you let him?”
“I—It was the first one I’ve ever had.” Mortification spread through her. “Was a female supposed to do it?”
His nostrils flared and he gripped her wrist, preparing to leave the room. “In the future—yes.”
* * *
Marco escorted Natalie out to the lobby where he had a car and driver waiting on them. His usually analytical thought process had been shot to hell since he’d seen Natalie in the dress. She looked—amazing. Amazing and different. He wasn’t sure if he liked it yet. There was no question that she was stunning. Stunning in a way that made him want to touch her, give her the best orgasm she’d ever had in her life, and then lock her in the penthouse.
The dress was beautiful—but it wasn’t something any of his other dates would have chosen. It was white, for one thing. The virginal color looked good on her, it enhanced her skin tone and defined the soft curves of her body. And yet, it also intensified his awareness of her unsophisticated innocence. It made him feel as if he were about to seduce an innocent, to take advantage of her inexperience, and it didn’t sit well with him.
The earrings had to go. They looked as if they came from a gumball machine and they weren’t going to cut it at the function they were about to attend. Again, they reminded him that she was very probably inappropriate for what he had planned for her.
But that wouldn’t stop him.
The highlights in her hair were another matter. They added an element of shine and depth to her hair, making it vivid and bold—silky. He wanted to run his fingers through it, clench it in his fists as he imagined that first moment he sank inside her.
But again, although they added a new and undeniably gorgeous dimension to her features, he wouldn’t have chosen to allow her to do it had he known the outcome.
She was too beautiful now, too alluring, too—noticeable. And he didn’t want anyone—any other men—noticing her.
She had been softly pretty before—even seriously beautiful. But now—she was—dangerously appealing.
He’d have to be on his goddamn guard all fucking night long.
* * *
Natalie sat in the back of the car beside Marco and tried to calm her nerves so that her inner-self matched her outside poise.
She was a quivering mass of tension and when he told the driver to stop outside a large jewelry store, her heart rate only accelerated more.
“Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Natalie concentrated on her breathing and on a small crease in her dress she hadn’t noticed before as she waited. He wasn’t gone for longer than seven or eight minutes.
He sat back down beside her and closed the door, once again locking her into the intimate space of the back seat that the drawn partition created in the limousine.
The car pulled away from the curb and Marco handed her a small box. “Put these on.”
Natalie lifted the lid and gasped out loud. Diamond studs lay on a bed of velvet, sparkling and huge. “I don’t think—”
“You don’t need to think, Natalie. Do what I said—put them on.”
She continued to hold the box in her hands, looking down at the diamonds. She sucked in a breath as she felt his hands on her lobes, removing the earrings she wore. His fingers were cool against her hot skin, and a stream of need flowed from the point of contact down her body to flare into heat between her thighs.
Pocketing the costume jewelry, he lifted the first earring from the box and put it in her shaking palm. “Go ahead.”
“Are they real?” She deliberately closed out her sexual awareness of him and tried to focus on the jewelry he wanted her to wear.
He lifted one sardonic eyebrow.
She tried again. “I don’t think—”
“Sweetheart,” he said softly—almost too softly, and her pulse went skyrocketing again. “I’m not in the mood for an argument. If you continue to argue with me, I’m going to shut you up the way I want to—with my mouth on yours. The way I’m feeling right now—your pretty little hairdo won’t survive. Neither will your make-up. Possibly you don’t realize this, but I’ve been having a bit of trouble keeping my hands to myself. Now be a good girl and put the earrings on.”
Natalie had never liked being treated as a child, but the way his eyes moved over her body and then settled on hers, not to mention the words that came from his mouth, made her very aware that he didn’t see her as a child to take instruction. No, more like a subordinate employee he wanted to sleep with—or a potential lover who needed to understand, metaphorically speaking, who would be on top.
The thought of being under him was earth-shattering, mind-blowingly hot. But again, the thought of his dominant personality made her more than a little apprehensive. She was old enough to know where this was headed, and even with the twenty-thousand standing between them, she didn’t think she’d be able to withstand him if he made a real attempt to have her. At least, she wouldn’t be able to withstand him for long.
So, now, as she slipped the earrings into her lobes, the question of exactly what he expected in a sexual relationship was troubling to her. She knew she didn’t have near the experience he did, and while some—sexual concepts—were exciting—even titillating—to read about, living them firsthand didn’t appeal to her. Scared her shitless, in fact. She did not want it. At all. It was troubling her so much, she couldn’t stop the question when it popped from her mouth. “Are you kinky?”
His head snapped away from her ears to land on her eyes again. “What?”
“I’m sorry—it’s none of my business.”
“You want to make it your business?” His eyes flared. “Say the word, baby.”
“Never mind. I don’t know why I asked.”
His eyes narrowed on her, studying her. “What’s upsetting you?”
“Really. Never mind. I don’t know you well enough to ask—we’re not involved that way.”
“Okay. Here’s the deal. You ask me one question—I’ll answer it—but then, I get to ask you a question. Okay? We won’t take it any further than that.”
“All—all right.”
He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arm out behind her. “Ask.”
She dampened her dry lips with her tongue. “You seem dominant in the extreme. I just wanted to know—it scares me to think—I don’t want to—”
His expression grew incredulous as he interrupted her disjointed speech with a bark of laughter. “No, I’m not kinky. Not the way you’re thinking. You’ve been reading too much fiction.” His finger reached out and twirled around a lock of her hair as he spoke. “I admit that I like to be in control. When you make it to my bed—and you will—I imagine you’ll find I’m exa
ctly the same as I am all the time. I don’t like to be argued with—I like things the way I like them. I’m a bit spoiled that way. I’m no different in bed.”
The lock of hair around his finger ran out of length and he began pulling on her—just forcefully enough that her torso twisted toward his and her hands fell on his chest, the distance between them gone. He continued, “No arguments in my bedroom. No arguments and we’ll get along fine. The door closes and you’re mine. You don’t need to worry about anything. I’d damn sure never hurt you—I’m going to treat you like a princess, baby, and you’ll never want to be anywhere else.” His gaze raked boldly over her and it took all of her concentration to maintain the few inches between them, and not let her arms fall completely over his chest.
She was already so totally infatuated with him that she was scared he was completely right. Once she made it to his bedroom, she’d never want to be anywhere else.
“Do you understand, Natalie?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good. Now it’s my turn for a question.” His hand left her hair and moved down her shoulder to settle on the curve of her breast over her dress. His other arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her over him until her legs straddled his lap. He began caressing her with steady strokes. Natalie’s throat tightened as he peeled down a shoulder strap and bared a breast. She felt the cool evening air on her naked flesh.
He sucked in oxygen through his teeth as he glanced down at it. Looking back up into eyes that were glued to him, he slid his thumb over her nipple, lightly caressing it and bringing damp heat between her legs.
Her head began to drop down to his shoulder, but he anticipated her move and nudged her chin back up and then sank his mouth down over hers. His tongue moved deep into the recesses of her mouth and she began to squirm against him. Her breathing grew shallow to match his, and her pelvis pushed softly against him with a movement she couldn’t seem to control.