The Billionaire's Intern

by Jackie Ashenden

  Kira didn’t reply, opening her mouth to nip him again, but before she could move, his grip tightened abruptly and he was kissing her, hard and hot and demanding. She groaned, leaning into him, opening her mouth under his. But then his teeth closed on her already battered lower lip, delivering a nip of his own that sizzled along her nerve-endings, all the way down to her sex.

  Then he lifted his head, his eyes gleaming. “If you don’t want to end up naked and screaming on my desk, you’d better get out.”

  Instinctively she looked at the desk, her stupid brain already racing ahead and thinking that’s exactly where she wanted to end up.

  Lorenzo gave a soft laugh that was somehow both icy cold and yet blazingly hot at the same time and released her chin. “Perhaps I should amend that. If you don’t want me to change my mind about Saturday night, then you’d better get out. And I mean now, Kira.”

  This time she didn’t even think about arguing.

  She got out.

  Chapter 7

  Lorenzo paced back and forth on the terrace of his townhouse, his phone glued to his ear. “Nothing?” he demanded, not caring how he sounded. “Nothing at all? Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure.” The deep, gravelly voice of his half-brother, Nero, was barbed. “You think I’d miss anything? When it comes to taking Dad down, I’m on your side, remember?”

  Lorenzo stopped pacing, staring sightlessly over his Central Park view, at the lights coming on in the park and in the skyscrapers around it, the clear, deepening blue of the sky tinged with hints of orange and pink as the sun went down.

  “There has to be a digital trail of some sort,” he insisted, frustration coiling tight inside him. “You can’t move money these days without leaving some kind of footprint behind you.”

  “Yeah, well, he didn’t leave one.” Nero’s tone was flat. “Because if he did, I would have found it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Nero was silent.

  Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. It was a stupid question. Of course, Nero was sure. The guy was a technical genius, and if he couldn’t find a digital footprint it was because there wasn’t one.

  “He must have gotten someone to cover his tracks then.” Lorenzo tried to lock down the frustration that burned in his gut. “Someone very good if you can’t find it.”

  “There are people out there who could,” Nero allowed. “Fuck knows he wouldn’t have been able to do it himself, not when he’s such a fucking Luddite.”

  Lorenzo let out a breath, turning from the view of the park and scanning over the terrace reflexively, making sure everything was ready for Kira’s arrival.

  He’d gotten Stacey to organize a special outdoor setting for dinner tonight, and whoever she’d gotten to do the decor had excelled themselves; the table was set with a white cloth, and there were crystal glasses and silver flatware. Rustic wooden dining chairs had been softened with silk cushions, and a number of tea lights glimmered in colored-glass holders.

  A lattice pergola framed the dinner table, fairy lights threaded through it, and not far away was a big wooden daybed piled high with more silk cushions. Near the daybed was an ice bucket full of ice and a bottle of vintage Krug, and a table with some champagne flutes at the ready.

  Lorenzo’s gaze settled on the daybed and his cock hardened, a fantasy of having Kira spread out naked on it already playing through his head.

  But this isn’t about your fantasies, remember?

  No, of course it wasn’t.

  It had come to him in his office yesterday, that if he didn’t want to make his loss of control with her into a giant mistake, he was going to have to think of some way to turn it into an advantage instead. And because he was good at turning mistakes into advantages, it had only taken him a couple of seconds to settle on the perfect way.

  He hadn’t considered using sex to build her trust and loyalty to him, but since sex was now on the table so to speak, he didn’t see why he couldn’t.

  After an initial debate with himself about how to organize the evening, whether to have dinner first, maybe book a fancy restaurant, or whether to head straight to the bedroom, he’d decided in the end to go with dinner first.

  It would be good to know a bit more about her, discover what was going on inside that beautiful head of hers. Find out what made her tick. Not for himself of course, but so he could build a bond between them. Women liked that conversation with their sex after all.

  The main thing he had to keep in mind, though, was that Kira was a means to an end, and that end was all about taking his father down for his mother’s sake.

  It had nothing whatsoever to do with what he wanted for himself.

  Or what you need?

  There was nothing he needed. Not a single thing. Not anymore.

  “Maybe we’re focusing on the wrong person,” Lorenzo said, turning over a few thoughts in his head. “Maybe it’s not Dad we should be looking at. Clearly he’s got some help from someone. Perhaps we should be looking around for who that might be.”

  “Shit,” Nero muttered. “That’s a good point. I think I have an idea about where to start.”

  Lorenzo did, too. “If you’re thinking Ivan then we’re on the same page.”

  “That bastard.” Nero sounded pissed. “Looks like I’ve got some digging to do in that case.”

  “You could try that angle.” Lorenzo leaned back against the parapet, his brain ticking over, another idea slowly taking shape. “But I have a better plan.”

  “Oh?”

  “One that won’t risk any suspicion coming down on us.”

  “Hey, if you’re worried about me getting caught—”

  “I’m not worried about that.” Because he wasn’t; Nero was very, very good at what he did. “It’s more a case of why risk any more suspicion when we don’t need to?”

  There was a silence.

  “What are you talking about, Lorenzo?”

  Lorenzo allowed himself a grim smile. “I’ve got someone close to Ivan who might be able to be of some use to us.”

  “Who?”

  But he didn’t want to name Kira, not yet. Not until he was sure he could get her on their side. “Let me see if I can make it work first.”

  Nero muttered a curse. “This is no time for you to be fucking cagey.”

  At that moment, the door to the terrace opened and his housekeeper put her head out. “Miss Constantin is here, Mr. de Santis.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Lorenzo said to Nero. “I’ll let you know what’s happening.” Without waiting for his half-brother to reply, he hit the disconnect button. “Show her up, Janet.”

  “Sure. How long do you want me to stay this evening?”

  “We only need dinner served, so bring that up in half an hour. You can go after that.”

  Janet, a laconic, older Scotswoman, gave a brisk nod and disappeared back downstairs again.

  Lorenzo folded his arms and waited, staring at the door, a hot hungry feeling rising slowly inside him. A hunger that had nothing whatsoever to do with food.

  It had only been a day since Kira had walked out of his office yet, for some reason, he’d felt every one of the hours, minutes, and seconds that had passed since. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so sexually obsessed with a woman.

  You really can’t?

  No, this had nothing to do with Katie. With her it had been about so much more than sex. He’d been obsessed with her and not simply her body, though that had been pretty obsession-worthy. She’d been warm and giving, always happy to see him, always happy to spend time with him. Always concerned about him and interested in what he’d been doing. That kind of emotional generosity had been so lacking in his childhood and in his family as a whole, he’d lapped up Katie’s adoration of him like cat with a bowl of fresh cream. It had been so good to feel needed by her. If only he hadn’t needed her in return. Because if he hadn’t—

  He cut the thought off dead. No need to dwell on past mistakes. They were
over and done with, and he couldn’t change them now. What was important was not repeating them, and that, at least, he had well in hand.

  The door to the terrace opened and a figure appeared in the doorway.

  A figure that turned into Kira, stepping out onto the terrace, shutting the door closed behind her.

  Lust hit him like a sucker punch, driving the breath from his body. Because she wasn’t in one of the little pencil skirts, loose blouses, and pairs of low heels she wore to work. Tonight she wore a simple white silk slip dress that followed the slender line of her figure as if it had been poured on. The hem was perfectly modest, fluttering around her knees as she came closer, the neckline dipping between her breasts but not too deeply. A virginal dress almost, if it wasn’t for the way the silk pulled taut across her small round breasts and swirled like liquid around her hips. If it wasn’t for the fact that there was nothing but pale skin beneath those narrow straps, alerting him to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Her hair was loose for a change, falling in platinum blonde waves around her shoulders, and on her feet were a pair of high heeled sandals that were nothing but one silver strap over her toes and another buckled securely around her narrow ankles.

  She wore no jewelry, her makeup minimal, nothing but mascara and a slick of gloss on those beautiful, pouty pink lips of hers.

  She looked like a virgin sacrifice, a princess, an angel.

  The only color to her was in her eyes, the deep, clear azure of the darkening sky above the terrace.

  “Is this your good girl look?” He let the rough edge in his voice bleed through since he couldn’t be bothered trying to hide it.

  Kira stopped in front of him. She was holding a white satin clutch in one hand while the other lifted toward her mouth and then dropped away at the last moment in a nervous-looking gesture. “Kind of.” She made an awkward movement with the hand holding the clutch. “I hope it’s okay. I didn’t know if we were going out or . . . or what.”

  He studied her fine-boned, delicate face, watching the ebb and flow of color on her cheekbones, the flicker in her blue eyes. She seemed uncertain, which was good since it gave him the advantage.

  He tilted his head, watching her. “Are you nervous?”

  She gave a small laugh, her gaze sliding past his and toward the park. “It’s that obvious huh?”

  He hadn’t expected her to acknowledge it, and the fact that she had surprised him. It also turned him on. “Yes.” He gave her figure a slow, sweeping glance. “It’s obvious.”

  A faint warm breeze had started up, bringing with it the scent of exhaust fumes and grass and hot earth and asphalt. It made her dress flutter, flattening the silk over her breasts and making the outlines of her nipples clear.

  “Sorry.” She shivered and rubbed at her arm, looking resolutely out at the park and not at him. “I don’t know what’s happening here.”

  “I think it’s pretty clear what’s happening here. You’re going to be my good girl, tonight. Aren’t you?”

  Her gaze flicked to his fleetingly and then away again. “I . . . suppose.”

  He watched her, gauging her reaction. That wasn’t genuine reluctance he’d heard in her voice, because she’d agreed to it yesterday. In fact, she’d been desperate to and he’d seen that desperation in her eyes. No, this was something else. A challenge maybe? A pretense so he’d chase her?

  “What do you mean you suppose?” he asked. “You didn’t wear a white silk dress that I can see your nipples through just because you didn’t want this.”

  She blinked, giving a little start. As if the words had shocked her.

  Interesting.

  Her gaze came to his once more, and he recognized the spark that was glowing in them. The same spark that had been there when he’d held her up against that door yesterday and told her exactly what he was doing to do to her.

  Desire kicked hard inside him.

  “I can’t wear a bra underneath this thing,” she said, a slightly thickened edge in her voice. “The straps are too thin.”

  Okay, so she was admitting nothing. But the way she was looking at him . . . Yes, they both knew that she was lying. Did that mean she wanted him to push her harder?

  He held her gaze this time, pinned her with it, showing her that he’d give that to her if she wanted it. “I like you being nervous, Kira. I like you being on edge. But what I don’t like is you pretending you didn’t wear that dress without a bra because you wanted to be sexy for me.”

  Color flooded her face. “No, that’s not—”

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  Her eyes widened, her pale skin flushing an even deeper red, the blue glow of her eyes intense. “Of course I’m wearing panties.”

  Aren’t you supposed to be having dinner first? Before you get into this?

  It didn’t matter what came first. He wanted her desperate for him, eager to please him, and if this was the quickest route to that, then that’s the route he would take. It had nothing whatsoever to do with his rapidly escalating desire. Of course, it didn’t.

  He looked into her eyes, caught by the intensity of the color. Fascinated by how different she was now to the pale creature who’d come into his office that first day. “Take them off.”

  “What? Now? Here?”

  “Don’t argue, just do it.”

  She looked away again. Her free hand had dropped to her side, still clenched in a fist, while the knuckles of her other hand were white against the satin of her purse.

  His heartbeat had accelerated, the blood rushing in his veins, his muscles tightening in anticipation. This felt important. He wanted her to obey him and he wanted it very much indeed.

  No, you don’t. You want her to challenge you.

  Bullshit. He wanted obedience. Needed it for his plan to work. He had to test her so he knew for certain that she’d do whatever he asked her to and without question. That was all.

  A moment passed, the sounds of the traffic drifting up from the street loud in the air, along with the constant hum of the city, music, voices, and sirens. The familiar sounds of a New York evening.

  The tension in the atmosphere pulled tight.

  All his focus had narrowed to the woman standing in front of him with her gaze turned from his, so virginal in her white dress. So painfully beautiful.

  Every muscle was taut, his fingers curling unconsciously into fists.

  He wanted this. He needed it. And right now, whether it was her obedience or her challenge, he didn’t care.

  “Kira.” He said her name softly, a seduction. “You wanted to be my good girl, didn’t you? So. Take off your panties.”

  Slowly, her gaze came back to his, something hot and bright glittering in the depths. Then her expression relaxed, and her mouth curved very slightly. “No,” she murmured.

  Adrenaline surged and he’d pushed himself away from the parapet, taking a couple of unconscious steps toward her before he could stop himself.

  She didn’t move. Didn’t back away. She simply stood there, watching him from beneath her lashes as if fascinated, that faint smile taunting him.

  He wasn’t in the mood for games, and he didn’t like being played. He liked being teased even less. Yet that didn’t stop his dick from getting harder or his heartbeat from getting even faster.

  Jesus, what was she doing to him?

  “If you don’t take them off right now, you’re fired,” he said coldly, attempting to regain some control of the situation.

  Her chin lifted, the spark in her eyes glowing, the slight smile curving one side of her lovely mouth deepening. “Then enjoy the sexual harassment suit I’ll be bringing against DS Corp. I know I will.”

  An uncontrollable pulse of excitement shot all the way down his spine, and he didn’t have the first clue as to why. There was just something about that wicked smile and the gleam of in her eyes . . .

  You like her challenge.

  Yes, but he shouldn’t. It should be the very last thing
he should like. Yet desire gripped him by the throat, squeezing him tight, and he almost lost it. Almost went over there to rip her panties off himself.

  But he managed to hold on. Just.

  If she was going to push him, then he would push back. Hard.

  “Take them off.” He looked into her eyes. “Unless you’re scared. Is that why you’re teasing me, little girl? To cover the fact that you’re afraid?” He kept his own voice quiet. “Because if you can’t handle this, all you need to do is turn around and leave. I’ll get a car to take you home. Nothing will happen if you refuse, I promise.”

  Her smile faded, but not that hot, blue spark in her gaze. It was electric, making him realize, with a sudden jolt, that he actually didn’t want her to leave. Not at all.

  Which means she’s got the power this time.

  Christ. So she had. She’d stolen it from him, with her white dress and her glowing sapphire eyes. She’d made him want, and now he was trapped by his own need.

  Another long moment passed, and he could barely breathe, the pressure of desire crushing all the air from his lungs.

  Finally, Kira let out a breath, then moved over to the parapet, placing her purse on it. She reached up underneath her dress and eased down what turned out to be a thong in lace almost the same pale color as her skin. The material glittered as she stepped out of it, like it had been embroidered with diamonds.

  She straightened, the thong dangling from her finger. “There. Happy now?”

  Relief filled him, and he couldn’t speak, holding his hand out wordlessly instead.

  But Kira shook her head. “Oh no, you want them?” The naughty smile was back. “You have to come get them.”

  He shouldn’t give in. He shouldn’t. Yet he was, because he was already moving over to where she stood before he’d even made a conscious decision, reaching out to take the thong from her finger. The fabric was silky and warm from her body, and he had an intense urge to lift it to his nose and inhale her scent.

  “Be careful with them.” Her gaze didn’t even flicker as it held his. “The beading is delicate and took me forever to do.”

  He blinked and looked down at the pale silk in his hand, at the tiny glittering beads sewn in intricate patterns over the front of them. What? She’d embroidered these herself?