by Olivia Deici
Anyone who had ever dared, I’d shut them down.
But from Roman? I hated to admit that I liked the nickname coming from his lips, even if it grated on my last nerve.
I finished applying my make-up. I was grabbing my things and my phone to hail an Uber, when I heard a car honk. I looked out the window, and saw a tow truck leaving off…
“My car?”
I hurried downstairs and out of my building, and sure enough, Lola was there, and she'd never looked so good. She was as shiny as her exterior could get, and the windows were spotless. I walked up to the tow truck driver.
“Uhh, hello.”
“Hello, Ma'am. Izabella Laurenti?”
“Yea.”
He handed me the clipboard and pointed.
“Please sign here.”
I looked at the form for delivery of the vehicle, took the offered pen, and signed. I watched as he unloaded it from the bed. I had to laugh at that. In my experience, that was typically reserved for expensive cars. For cars like mine, they dragged them behind running up the mileage.
“Where did she come from?”
“She?” The driver looked amused. I felt heat color my face.
“Yea,” I responded half indignant.
“From Mastery Mechanics.”
My mouth dropped open. Since my POS broke down a lot, I was familiar with the mechanics around town, and they were beyond pricey.
He handed me an envelope. Shit. Was this a bill? More importantly, who the hell took it upon himself or herself to have my car fixed and towed back to me?
I opened the envelope, and found several sheets of paper. The first was a handwritten letter. I looked at the name signed at the bottom.
Roman.
According to the letter, he had Lola towed to the mechanics, had them fix the radiator and whatever else looked broken based on appearance. Since I had the key, their work was limited to the radiator and what other parts were obviously in need of attention. I even got an oil change.
I looked at my watch. It was just after seven. He'd had this all done in under six hours. What they hell had he done? No mechanic had those hours.
I looked at the remaining pages that outlined the work done and the exorbitant prices charged, including an after-hours fee.
And then at the bottom, was the large amount due, but over it was a red stamped “PAID.”
Nothing was due.
Wow. Holy hell. Roman had paid for all of it.
Why?
God, I was grateful, don't get my wrong. How the hell would I pay him back, though?
I couldn't think of that now. I was leading a seminar with a bunch of prestigious “who's who” in the medical community. I wore one of the two good suits I had left.
I got into my car, and it started like a dream. On my way to the hotel where the seminar would take place, I thought more about Roman. He was a combination of good and bad.
Would a man who fired his long-time security guard who was as in need of his paycheck as I was of mine, have my car fixed after hours and pay for it?
It just didn't add up, and I didn't like it.
I'd been burned before, seriously. I'd had a long time fiancé who I thought would eventually be my husband, until I found him in bed with my best friend. I'd had a father who thought that loving me meant locking me away and clipping my wings, who'd wanted to force me to marry for his benefit and gain. I'd had a mother who died before I would ever be ready to let her go.
I literally had very few things in my life worth anything. My clinic was my life. I only had one friend left, and she didn't judge me. Then again, she didn't come from my old life.
My thoughts returned to Roman.
I couldn’t have someone around me who I couldn't peg into a hole. I needed predictability.
How else would I protect myself from further hurt?
He was an anomaly- a Zambrano who had no problems firing his loyal guard, but paid his assistant handsomely, who helped a virtual stranger when her car broke down, and then took care of the cost of repairs.
He was magnificent. Roman was tall and muscular, with electrifying blue eyes that made me uncomfortable. The intelligence in that man frightened me. It was almost otherworldly, like off-the-scale IQ that bordered on telepathy. His eyes saw too much, and I didn't like it.
He was gorgeous. His face literally looked like it would belong in the pages of GQ. I wanted to roll my eyes because that phrase was often used, but in his case, it totally fit. His dark hair was styled on-trend, with a spike to it that made him look young and carefree, even in his austere business suit. I was pissed last night, but it didn't temper my attraction to him. The only way I could describe it was an animalistic, visceral attraction. I had never in my life had that type of reaction to a man, not even to my ex. I hid it behind an extra sharp tongue, and the way that man verbally sparred with me and held his own, made my panties wet.
I wasn't a complete bitch, although I had acted the part well in his office. I needed to thank him for this, and see how to pay him back. I didn’t have a phone number for him.
I guess I’d have to visit him at his office again.
My body warmed and seized at the same time. Part of me wanted to see him, speak to him, verbally spar with him, and if I’m being honest, jump him.
It had been YEARS since mini-me had any action. Only my fingers helped assuage that need from time to time.
The other part of me, though, the one that had been repeatedly hurt, wanted to run away from him as fast as I could.
It recognized, on some primal level, that Izabella Laurenti had finally met her match.
Chapter 6
Roman
Izzy.
I couldn’t get that damn infuriating, beautiful, smart, woman out of my mind. I’d had to jack-off three times last night to get my dick soft.
God, she heated my blood. I hadn’t been this hard up in a damn long time. I don’t sniff up skirts. I haven’t had a need to in decades. Women threw themselves at me, and I had my pick. If my name didn’t bring them, my looks did.
Yea, I was cocky, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true. I was nice to look at.
And nice to fuck.
They knew they’d have a good time with me.
I had a reputation- one that made women salivate at the thought of having the night of their lives in my bed, my dick in their pussies. It was rare that anyone or anything excited me. I had sampled all the hors d’oeuvres at the parties, and I’d had my fill.
Every position.
Threesomes.
Nothing excited me because nothing was new. Yea, sure, I had a big sexual appetite. I liked to fuck. It had been a long damn time since any woman had excited me, though. I couldn't remember the last time a woman made me raging hard, and challenged me.
Until Izzy.
Goddamn, I just wanted to lick her from her toes to her tits, and stop midway up to taste her secrets.
She was. Fucking. Gorgeous.
Last night when we ran together, I felt exhilarated. It felt like at long last, I had met my match, someone who could go head-to-head, toe-to-toe, wit-to-wit with me.
She gave me a rush only my Maserati had.
I wanted her in my bed, wrapped around my dick. I wanted to get her mad, and spar with her tongue for tongue.
And then stick mine down her throat and make her mine.
The urge to claim her and beat my chest reared up in me, and my fists clenched.
Fuck, I’d never been this crazed before. I didn’t need a relationship. Actually, I phrased that too politely. I didn’t want a fucking ball and chain; I just wanted to fuck.
And this tiny woman has reduced me to a fucking caveman.
It bothered me that I didn’t know when I’d see her again. I had them attach my letter to the tow and mechanic’s sheets. I purposefully left my number off. I didn’t want to chat with her. If she wanted to thank me, she could stop by and visit again. I wanted to feast my eyes on her, and if I was luc
ky, raise her ire and argue with her. Her buttons were sensitive. I wanted to see how far I could push her.
Push her up against the wall.
Push her over my desk.
Push her down on her knees.
My dick was hard.
“Fuck me.”
I tried to focus on the goddamn shit on my screen. I was doing general counsel work. There was yet another fucking sexual harassment complaint against a problematic general manager. His ass needed to be fired yesterday. I might be an asshole and not relationship-material, but I wasn’t a chauvinist or a misogynist.
If a woman wasn’t interested, she just fucking wasn’t interested.
We didn’t tolerate shit like this.
I was starting to question that GM’s boss, too. We’d given him latitude to handle this situation, and obviously, he hadn’t done a good job of it. That douche needed to be fired, and his boss needed to be formally addressed.
I pushed back from my desk and pinched the bridge of my nose. Not only did we have zero tolerance for this shit, but I didn’t put up with this shit personally, either.
No was no.
My thoughts drifted to Daniela, and my heart thumped heavily. She was Diego’s twin, and my sister.
Was.
It’s what has fucked with Diego for years now. Guilt can do a lot of bad to someone, and I’d watched it do a number on my baby brother.
Fucking Russians.
I covered my face with my hand.
Maybe I should leave early. I looked at my watch and saw it was 8:00PM. Yea, this was early for me.
I finished my notes, and began wrapping up what I was doing.
Chapter 7
Izzy
I parked outside and made sure to feed the meter a hell of a lot more quarters than I did the night before. I walked towards the shiny chrome glass doors, but found them being held open for me. I stepped back, momentarily surprised. I looked up at a guard I hadn’t seen last night.
“Good evening, Dr. Laurenti.”
He knew my name?
Taken aback, I mumbled hello, and briefly wondered whether posters with my face and name were taped to the walls, warning security of a short-tempered woman who got guards fired. Walking up to the guard desk, I stopped, dumbstruck. Behind the desk was Scott. I looked at his nametag, just to make sure. It wasn’t as if I could forget his name. I had gotten the poor man fired the previous night.
Hadn’t I?
“Good evening, Dr. Laurenti. What can I help you with?”
“Scott?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“But I thought…he had…I…”
I kept fumbling like a moron for a coherent phrase.
He smiled at me, and I thought I saw amusement shining in them.
Ugh.
“Are you here to see Mr. Zambrano? I can swipe and let you up the elevators.”
My eyes narrowed. I didn’t have an appointment, something that was really important to have yesterday before I stormed upstairs and got the man before me fired.
Was this a joke?’
“Yea, I’m here to see him. I don’t have an appointment though.”
He smiled. “None needed, Dr. Laurenti. Follow me, please.”
I wearily followed the man to the elevators behind the guard desk as if he was an apparition. Well, technically, he was. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and yet he was. I watched as he swiped his card and entered a code. I raised an eyebrow. I guess my shenanigans from yesterday made the entering of a code necessary now. I had just pulled a visitors card from the desk when he was distracted, ran to the elevator, and swiped. I accurately guessed that the asshole Zambrano would be on the top floor, like the king of the world he thought he was.
I was given a visitor’s badge, and he swiped to let me up.
“Have a good night, Dr. Laurenti.”
I nodded my head, and barely muttered “You, too,” in return.
The doors shut and I stood shocked as it lifted me to the lion’s den. I stared at my reflection in the polished stainless steel doors. What the hell was that? I mean, I was happy and relieved that he was back at work, but I was confused.
Maybe the irritating dick had had a change of heart.
As the elevator stopped on the top floor, the doors opened to Edgar.
“Good evening, Dr. Laurenti.”
What the fuck was going on?
“Hello?”
I hadn’t meant for it to come out like a question.
“You’re here to see Mr. Zambrano.”
I noticed the coiling cord snaking around his ear and down to his shoulder. I guess I hadn’t noticed that yesterday. It’s not surprising the security they had here. The Zambranos had many enemies, both from the up and up, and from the underworld of crime.
“Follow me.”
It wasn’t as if I didn’t know where his office was, but I followed anyway.
“Good evening, Dr. Laurenti,” Mildred said and smiled at me.
I had the urge to look around and see if I was being Punk’d. Were there hidden cameras around?
“Hi Mildred. I wanted to speak with Mr. Zambrano.”
She nodded and stood. “Sure. Come.”
I found myself following yet the third person tonight to reach Roman. She knocked, but didn’t wait for permission before opening one of the huge double wooden doors. When we walked in, Roman was standing, his wallet and phone in hand as if he was readying to leave.
“Thanks, Mildred. You can take off if you like.”
She smiled at him and then winked at me.
“Goodnight,” she sang as she walked to the door.
“Night.” His voice caused goosepimples on my arms.
I turned back to Roman when I felt my skin heating in awareness. His electric eyes were on me.
“I…ah…didn’t have an appointment… again…”
I fumbled like a damn idiot. What the hell was wrong with me? I mentally shook myself.
“It’s alright.”
He waved at the chair in front of his desk and I took a seat. He sat down after I did.
“I wanted to thank you for the trouble you went through fixing Lola.”
“Lola?”
My cheeks heated. “My car.”
His smiled and my heart skipped a beat. “Lola, huh?”
I couldn’t help my lips expanding in a smile. “Doesn’t everyone name their cars?”
His answering laugh did amazing things to my body. A distant part of me that was rarely alive throbbed with need. This man was a sex God. He’d undone his tie and the first few buttons of his dress shirt. I saw the muscles there move when he chuckled.
Tattoos, too?
I realized I was staring when he cleared his throat.
“Anyways. I can pay you back, but it will need to be in installments.”
He was shaking his head even before I finished. “I don’t need to be paid back.”
“I can’t accept it otherwise, Mr. Zambrano.”
“Roman.”
I sighed.
“Alright. Roman. Please. I’m no charity case.”
“I don’t think of you as a charity case. Consider it a gift. A kindness. That’s all it is.”
I pursed my lips. “If this is about my building-”
“Wow.” He leaned back in his chair and studied me.
My eyes narrowed. “Wow, what?”
“You can’t accept a gift, can you? You feel like you have to pay back everything given to you in blood. This isn’t quid pro quo, Izzy. I’m not asking for your soul. I’m not asking for anything.”
I was the one to clear my throat now.
“I’m not quite sure that’s how this works, Mr. Zambrano.”
“Roman.”
I sighed and closed my eyes briefly. I opened them, and met his unwavering gaze. It just wasn’t a good time for me now. I was too raw to keep up my fake thick skin at the moment. I wanted to curl up in bed, or on my couch, with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Gar
cia. The fudge chips and cherry bits eased my anxiety and made me feel better than any pill ever could.
“There’s always a price to pay.”
His face was a little too serious and his gaze too analytical for my liking. Ugh, I just wasn’t up for this today. I should’ve just done this tomorrow. Today had been a tough day.
“You can accept kindness, Izzy. I’m not the devil, and I’m not demanding your soul. I don’t want anything in return.”
“I can’t allow that, Mr. Zambrano-”
“Roman.”
His voice was cutting and insistent.
“Fine. Roman. Now, I’ve figured it out. I can pay you back in six installments at-”
“Look at me.”
My eyes floated to his.
“ I. Don’t. Want. A. Penny.”
My hand went to my forehead. I rubbed it.
“Long day?”
I laughed humorlessly, and I heard the edge in it. “That’s an understatement.”
“Why don’t we go out to dinner? I’m starved. Are you?”
His gaze was smoldering. This must be what it was like to be prey caught in the cheetah’s line of sight.
“It’s late. I should be going.”
“We all have to eat, Izzy. Have you eaten dinner?”
I shook my head.
“Have you eaten lunch?”
Was that concern in his voice? I shook my head.
“It’s been a bad day.”
I met his eyes again.
“Look, I’m not going to accept payment from you. You want to give something back in return for fixing the car, go out to dinner with me. Now.”
What the fuck was this turning in to? I was supposed to dislike this man and his meddling corporation. They were trying to get my building, and would eventually, I knew, by hook or crook.
No one said no to a Zambrano.
I found that I didn’t want to say no now, though. I wanted to have dinner with him. I was tired, and I’d had a long, sad day. I was hungry, too.
I didn’t want to be by myself, either, which was odd. I wasn’t necessarily a loner, but I kept mostly to myself. Basically, the clinic was my life, and other than that, I didn’t have one.