His For The Taking

by Kat Walters

  This wasn't about Henry or his revenge. This was about Isabella. He needed her in his bed. They could have a week together, enjoying each other, exploring each other, and then they would go their separate ways, and maybe, just maybe, he could let go of the past once and for all.

  The phone rang, startling her, pulling her out of her thoughts. Her fantasy. Alessandro's hands on her hips, her thighs, her breasts. Isabella felt hot all over, aching. She moaned and rolled over on the bed to answer the phone.

  "Sí?"

  "I'd like you to come downstairs. There are things to discuss."

  The line went dead, and she was left holding her phone, staring at it, nervous butterflies in her stomach. She sat up, slowly put the phone down, and swung her legs off the bed. Things to discuss. A shiver ran down her spine, and she closed her eyes. Her body felt hot and restless, craving his touch. Alessandro would take one look at her, and he would know. Isabella took a deep breath to steady her nerves. If she didn't go down to him, he would only come up here to her, and here there was a bed… No. Safer to go down. The phone rang again, and she answered it with a shaking hand.

  "I meant now, Isabella."

  “Dio Alessandro, give me a minute.” No answer. He'd hung up already? She cursed fluently in Italian. She hardly ever cursed, but when she did, it was always in Italian. A trick she'd learned growing up in Henry's house. She couldn't get into trouble for cursing if no one knew what she was saying. Sudden laughter on the other end of the line had her staring at her phone in horror. Damn! What she'd been saying wasn't fit for the seediest bar in Rome. She hung her head and brought the phone back up to her ear.

  "You weren't supposed to hear that."

  That husky chuckle came down the line again, warming her from the inside. "You sound very sexy swearing in Italian."

  Her cheeks blushed scarlet, but before she could answer, the line went dead. Oh, she was in so much trouble. Isabella dropped the phone onto the bed and pushed herself to her feet. Slipping into her nightgown, she tied it tightly around her as though that act in itself was enough to convince her body that nothing was going to happen downstairs. If only she could convince her heart of that. It was beating so fast, so loud, she was sure Alessandro would hear it the moment she stepped into the room.

  Isabella glanced quickly in the mirror, ran fingers through her hair, pushed it off her face. Bright eyes stared back at her. Bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and if that wasn't enough of a clue, she was breathless. Her eyes slid closed on a groan. She was so obvious. Why couldn't she be relaxed and sophisticated? If only she could hide what she felt.

  She couldn't delay any longer. As if to prove that point, the phone started to ring again. She ignored it and pulled open her door. The phone stopped instantly, and she paused, smiling suddenly. Alessandro had been listening for the door.

  Isabella padded barefoot down the stairs and made her way to his study. The door was ajar, and she pushed it aside, stepping in cautiously. A lamp was on in the corner casting a subdued light over the room. Isabella had loved this room as soon as she saw it. It was a masculine room. Bookshelves lined the walls. A large mahogany desk sat to one side with a computer taking pride of place, beside the desk a mahogany filing cabinet. On the other side of the room were two green leather armchairs beside a drink's cabinet.

  It was from out of one of those armchairs that Alessandro rose. He moved towards the drinks cabinet gesturing for her to take the other chair. He paused in front of the array of bottles, throwing her a questioning look.

  "Brandy is fine."

  Isabella took her seat, noticing the flash of amusement in his eyes at her choice of drink. Her own mouth quirked before straightening out. It was an unusual choice for someone her age, but she liked it. Brandy reminded her of her Nonna.

  Alessandro handed her the glass and resumed his seat.

  "You are… surprising." A thoughtful expression crossed his face but almost instantly was gone, replaced by something cooler. "This is not working out."

  If her anxious nerves hadn't had her holding the glass so tight, it would have slipped from her fingers. That was not what she was expecting Alessandro to say. But why not? Why would he want you here? He doesn't.

  "Anna is the reason you are still living at home?"

  Isabella's eyes flew to his, startled by the direction the conversation had taken. He looked so relaxed, sipping his brandy, as though he didn't have a care in the world. Even his eyes seemed a little softer, as if they had lost that edge of danger. This thought did not reassure her. He was still dangerous, she warned herself and still watching her, so at last, she nodded.

  "Anna still has one more year of school. I am right?" Isabella didn't answer. She didn't trust where he was leading with these questions. He was far too calm. "What if I said I could pay for that year of school, including boarding costs, so Anna doesn't have to live with Henry?"

  Isabella's stomach muscles tensed, and her heart stopped beating for just a moment before it kicked off again. Had he known she was worried about that? She'd already decided that when Anna came out of rehab, they would get a place together, far away from Henry. Alessandro had probably guessed her intentions, especially as he witnessed Henry throwing her out of his house. He would know Isabella couldn't go back there. He would also know that she wouldn't leave Anna behind. Which meant he had probably also worked out that money was going to be a problem for her. A surge of anger washed through her. Did he really think she would take his money?

  Her salary at the dance studio would give them a home, but… worry pierced her now, wiping out her anger. There was no way she could afford to send Anna to the same school, and was it fair to expect Anna to change now? This was her last year, and with everything else going on… Isabella knew Anna was behind on her studies. She gnawed on her bottom lip, for a moment forgetting where she was. Forgetting the man in the leather armchair beside hers, watching every expression as it flitted across her face.

  Startled, she realized she'd been quiet too long, and her eyes flew back to his, annoyed with herself for taking her eyes off him. She should know better. Alessandro was up to something. He was about to change their arrangement somehow. What was it he wanted? As if echoing her own question, Alessandro quietly asked.

  "What is it you want, Isabella?"

  Something in the way he asked made her angry, defensive. She couldn't remember the last time anybody had asked her that.

  "Why don't you tell me," she snapped, a hard edge to her voice. At the sardonic lift of his eyebrows, she continued. "You obviously have me all figured out, so why don't you just tell me what I want. Then you can tell me what you want, and we can be done with this whole cozy charade." When still he didn't speak. "I'm tired Alessandro, can we not skip all the niceties? Just tell me what you want."

  "You want to dance, no?" Her stomach clenched tight, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. "You have been protecting Anna all these years, but if you no longer had to do that…" He let that idea hang there, taunting her.

  "Instead of second-guessing me, why don't you just tell me what you want." She refused to admit that he was right.

  He eyed her in silence. The tension between them built until she felt like screaming.

  "We have a problem."

  "Only one?" Her droll response earned her an amused smile from him.

  "Believe me, this is as much of a shock to me as it is to you." He didn't look shocked. He looked as arrogantly and rigidly in control as he always did.

  "I'm not following you."

  "This," he indicated the two of them.

  "This what?"

  Alessandro smiled wolfishly, and an excited shiver passed right through her body. "You would like me to show you?" He asked quietly.

  She knew better than to answer but still, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. She knew she should look away, but… she didn't want to. Alessandro stood slowly, and her eyes widened as he held out his hand to her. Without realizing what she
was doing, she slipped her hand into his, allowing herself to be pulled up.

  It was only when she found herself standing in front of him, inches from him, that she blinked, came to her senses. What was she doing? But it was too late. His hand was on her cheek, slipping into her hair. He cupped the back of her head with his large hand and tilted her face up to him.

  Chapter 4

  Isabella's eyes slid closed as Alessandro’s lips found hers, and it was nothing like the kiss in her bedroom. It was slow and gentle. His tongue traced the seam between her lips, and oh, she wanted to open to him, wanted to kiss him. She'd been thinking of nothing but kissing him since their first meeting.

  His tongue slipped inside her mouth all too briefly before he was moving away from her lips. He kissed her jaw, her neck, his lips seducing her as his hand trailed down her back. Was that her making those sounds? She couldn't get close enough. She felt his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her tight against him while he returned to her mouth, deepening his kiss.

  She was powerless to resist him. Her tongue tangled with his, tasting the brandy. The scent of his cologne teased her. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding her body. He pulled back, his hands resting lightly on her hips, steadying her. He waited for her eyes to open before leaning down again and brushing his lips against her mouth.

  "This is a problem."

  Somehow those words penetrated her desire-fogged brain. This is a problem. Isabella heard the words reverberating around inside her head as she tried to grasp back some control. She took a step back. He let her go. She moved away, stepping around the chair, needing something between them. Needing the support of the back of the armchair. Her legs felt weak. She felt weak. Weak, foolish, silly, naïve female. She couldn't think of enough demeaning adjectives to call herself. From the other side of the chair, she watched Alessandro resume his seat and reach for his drink. So calm, not a hair out of place. Her hand went instinctively to her own hair, trying to smooth it down until his amused smile stopped her. She dropped her hand and glared at him.

  "As… interesting… as that demonstration was, you still haven't told me what you want."

  "I think you know."

  "I think I need you to spell it out."

  "You become my lover for a week. One week. At the end of that week, you return to London. I will pay Anna's school expenses for the year." Isabella swallowed nervously. Watched him take another sip of his brandy. How could he look so relaxed? Continuing conversationally, Alessandro added with a little shrug. "You get your own life. Anna gets to finish school. Everybody's happy."

  "And you?"

  His smile was wicked and somehow charming too. How could she find him charming? Alessandro was trying to buy her. She should hate him. She did hate him.

  "I get you in my bed."

  A little flutter of excitement lit up inside her at the naked hunger she saw in his eyes. He wanted her.

  "For one week. We explore this chemistry between us. In a week it will have burnt out, and we part ways."

  His arrogance astounded her. "How do you know it will burn out after a week?" She asked defiantly. His confident smirk incensed her.

  "I always lose interest after a week."

  Isabella felt the blood rush to her face, and humiliation followed swiftly. His implication did not go unheard. Alessandro had slept with some of the most beautiful women on the planet. If he tired of them after a week… he would be bored with her after one night.

  She should feel relieved.

  "So, you're going to do what you set out to do all along? Use me and toss me back to Henry."

  Alessandro paled under the whiplash of her words. She might not have noticed had she not been watching him so closely.

  "On the contrary, I was hoping you wouldn't return to Henry, but if you want to go running back to daddy…" Alessandro shrugged again to demonstrate his complete lack of interest in the subject. "Besides, I'll hardly be tossing you back empty-handed. I always look after my lovers. I've never had any complaints before."

  His look challenged her.

  Isabella blushed and looked away. She believed him. If Alessandro could make her feel so good with just a kiss… She exhaled slowly and walked around the chair, taking her seat and trying her best to mimic his casual sophistication. Taking a sip of her drink for courage, Isabella returned it carefully to the side table. Every movement she made was cautious and deliberate. Her thoughts were all tangled up with this desire she felt for Alessandro. Clinging to the little self-control she had left, she turned to face him.

  "To be clear. What you are proposing," Isabella licked her lips nervously, watched his eyes drift towards her mouth. "You and I become lovers for one week. After one week I return to London. You will continue to pay Anna's fees at Childsworth. In addition to that, you will pay all her school expenses for the coming year." She paused, felt his penetrating gaze but fought to control her reaction to him. She should despise this man… "If I say no to this offer, I return to London tomorrow, and you refuse to pay Childsworth any more money."

  Isabella looked at him in silence, waiting for his response. She wanted to believe he wouldn't back out of their original deal, but… he was ruthless. She knew that about him. It was probably the only thing she did know about him.

  "What is your decision?" Asked nonchalantly as he took another sip of his drink.

  Bastard. When she had first approached him, Isabella had sworn to herself, and to Anna, she would never sleep with Alessandro. She would never sleep with any man for money. You're not doing it for money. No, she was doing it for Anna. She was doing it so Anna could finally get the help she needed

  "No, Isabella. I'm not paying you to sleep with me." Her startled expression elicited a quick grin from him. "I want to make sure you will be okay after this ends. I am not the monster you want me to be, but neither am I your knight in shining armor. I want you. It's that simple. I do not do relationships, and I will never marry. If we sleep together, then you will not be able to remain with me for the two months as we discussed."

  A bitter smile crossed her face. Alessandro was willing to pay for Anna's last year of school to have her in his bed. Should she feel flattered? Didn't he realize she would have done it for free? Hadn't he just proved that very thing? All he had to do was touch her and she went up in flames. Ice trickled down her spine as understanding shook her. He did know. He wasn't offering to pay Anna's school fees so she would sleep with him. He was paying them to get rid of her. To make sure she left without a scene at the end of the week.

  Isabella pushed aside the gauze curtain and slid the glass door open. The Tyrrhenian Sea greeted her with skimming and sparkling light against the turquoise blue of the ocean. Sardinia. She stepped out onto the balcony, leaned forward on the railing, and breathed deep. The scent of pine trees, salty ocean, and lemon filled her nostrils, making her smile. She could hear the water lapping in the small bay below. Her eyes followed the rocky path that meandered from the garden down to the private jetty. To her right, lemon groves climbed the hill beside the villa. Her eyes slid closed, and she savored the feel of the warm breeze on her face. The warm breeze and the quiet. It was blissfully quiet. After a week in Rome and a lifetime in London, the silence was a blessing.

  Alessandro's villa perched on a hillside, far from prying eyes, its perimeter guarded by tall walls and electric gates. From this side of the estate, Isabella could see the sea, a yacht moored to a wooden jetty, and a narrow winding path that led from the jetty to a small private beach. It was an idyllic setting. The villa's white walls were covered in trailing bougainvillea, and its garden was bursting with flowers of every color. It was everything a romantic getaway should be, except…there was nothing romantic about it. This was an… arrangement.

  Isabella winced at the thought. How was it possible for her to despise Alessandro and still desire him? She felt humiliated by his offer, and yet… she couldn't bring herself to refuse. She had spent the last few days trying to c
onvince herself she was doing this for Anna, but she knew she was lying to herself. She wanted this. She wanted Alessandro.

  Alessandro had not touched her since that night in his study. Not when they were alone at any rate. They had been seen in public every night of the last week, and the tabloids were full of stories about them. They dragged up all the dirt on Alessandro's parents and Henry Sullivan. Every little detail was salivated at and picked apart. The whole sordid story was out there for everyone to read about. It didn't matter that half of it was made-up nonsense.

  After the first day, Isabella stopped reading the stories. They were so ugly. The articles were sordid and shaming, and she was portrayed as the worst sort of gold-digger. Still, it wasn't like Alessandro came off any better. One paper even called him the most ruthless man alive. It made her wonder why he'd ever agreed to this plan. All of this humiliation simply to make Henry angry? None of it made sense to her. How could he hate his mother and refuse to talk to her all these years?

  Isabella turned away from the view with a resigned sigh and put her attention instead on her wardrobe. Soon Alessandro would be looking for her. They were going out for dinner. She didn't want to think about what would happen after dinner. Although, that wasn't really true either. She had spent all week thinking about… imagining, fantasizing. Oh, she sighed to herself. She was terrified of moving their relationship to a physical one, but it was the kind of fear that tied her stomach up into knots and made her feel breathless, scared, and excited, all in one confusing tangle of feelings.

  Isabella pulled the wardrobe open and studied again the dizzying array of clothes available. They had been here when she arrived. All her size. She shuffled resentfully through the choices. The clothes left her feeling hollow and slightly chilled. Alessandro kept doing this. Reminding her of their arrangement. Reminding her that this week would end. It was the reason she was still in her bathrobe, even now when she knew Alessandro was downstairs waiting for her. She hated that he kept throwing the money in her face. Not money. No, things, clothes, expensive villas… all of it made her want to scream.