by Michele Hauf
“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “Tomorrow.” Emma padded into the luxurious bathroom and quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth. Realizing she needed her gown, she remembered it was in her bag. She returned to the bedroom. “My ba—” She broke off when she saw Damien standing in nothing but lounge pants. His gleaming broad shoulders and bare chest captured her attention.
“You needed something?” he prompted.
Despite the fact that she should be too tired to keep her eyes open let alone gawk at Damien’s body, she couldn’t fight a ripple of awareness that ran throughout her body. She cleared her throat. “My bag. I need my gown.”
He nodded toward the side of the room where she stood. “There.”
She glanced in the same direction he had, sheepish that the bag had been positioned right beside her. Pulling her gown from her carry-on, she scooted back into the bathroom and put it on. Moments later, she returned to find Damien already in bed with the covers folded back.
Feeling a strange twist of nerves, she climbed into bed, hugging the opposite side. Three heartbeats later, she felt his hand wrap around her belly, and he pulled her back against the front of him. “Relax,” he said in a low voice against her ear. “Go to sleep.”
Seconds later, she did.
The next morning she awakened to the delicious sensation of being in his arms. He nuzzled the back of her neck and she held her breath in anticipation of him making love to her. Instead, he got out of bed. “Be lazy,” he instructed her. “I’ll be reading the paper outside on the terrace.”
Surprised that he hadn’t taken sexual advantage of sharing a bed with her, she stared after him for a moment. Then she decided to follow orders and fell back asleep.
After a leisurely bath, she joined him and sunned on the terrace wearing a pair of his shorts and a cutoff black T-shirt. They snacked on sandwiches prepared by his housekeeper. He touched her frequently, stroking her hair, sliding his hand over the bare skin of her torso.
The intermittent contact put her in a state of perpetual awareness. She felt as if a low hum of arousal buzzed inside her. He almost made her forget that they had made a deal, and she had practically sold herself to him.
He surprised her by preparing dinner. “All the Medici men cook. My father taught us at a young age. His father taught him and so on.”
Emma watched him as he prepared a sauce with plum tomatoes, spinach, olive oil, spices. “That smells delicious.”
“It will be,” he said.
“Did your father ever live in Italy? Or was he raised here?”
Damien’s jaw tightened. “He moved to the States when he was seventeen. His family went through a rough time in Italy and his father lost the family home in a business deal where he was cheated. Pretty much ruined them.”
“That’s terrible,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah. Things were looking up for my father right before he died, and everything fell apart again.”
“You miss him,” she said, sensing his grief.
“Yes. It was ironic. He and his brothers and sisters were torn apart and the same thing happened to my brothers and me.”
“I bet he would be proud of how well you’ve done,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “He was from the old school where if someone hurt a member of your family, it was your duty to pay them back.”
“He wasn’t Mafia, was he?” she asked, his dark tone making her wary.
Damien laughed. “No. Just very Italian. Here, try the sauce.” He lifted a spoonful and blew on it before he extended it to her lips.
Emma tasted the spicy sauce and nodded. “Delicious.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, intently meeting her gaze.
They shared dinner on the terrace. Afterward, he coaxed her into taking a nude dip with him in the Jacuzzi surrounded by a teak lattice privacy screen. She’d thought all her tension from the trip was gone, but the velvet darkness and hot massaging water relaxed her even more.
“This is wonderful. It’s a good thing I don’t have one of these. I’d never get out,” she said, feeling decadent and languid as she sipped the champagne he’d poured for her. “How often do you use it?”
“A couple of times since I arrived,” he said, watching her from beneath a hooded gaze as he slid one of his legs between hers. “I’ve been too busy.”
She felt another rush of arousal ooze through her. She watched his gaze linger on her lips. Taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth.
He was suddenly too far away and she suddenly couldn’t wait a minute longer to be close to him. She moved closer and he immediately pulled her onto his lap. Skimming his hands over her naked, wet body underwater, he lowered his head and took her mouth in a sensual kiss that made her breathless.
He touched the tips of her breasts and kissed her again. “I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she said, her brain muddled by his effect on her.
“It’s not so bad. I’ve been thinking that you and I should make our arrangement permanent.”
Confusion warred with arousal. She frowned. “Permanent,” she echoed.
He played with her nipples again, short-circuiting her thought process. “I think we should get married.”
Shock raced through her and she gawked at him. “Married? I—I—”
He shot her a half grin before he took her mouth again, his hands distracting her. “Think it over,” he murmured against her mouth. “Later.”
Awakening the next morning to the sound of Damien in the shower, Emma stretched, feeling the aftereffects of Damien’s repeated lovemaking. She covered her face with the sheet when she thought of how uninhibited she’d been.
Shaking off her self-consciousness, she rose from his bed and pulled on the nightgown she’d never worn last night and went into the kitchen to make coffee. The scent of fresh coffee in a timed maker told her she was too late for that.
She poured herself a cup and added sugar and milk, then gingerly sipped the hot liquid. Hearing the scream of a fax machine, she walked down the hallway and opened the door to an office. A large cherry desk dominated the room lit by three-quarter length windows covered with linen shades.
The fax machine continued to scream and she heard a rustle of paper. Emma rearranged the paper in case it was jammed. Seconds later, several sheets flew onto the floor. Although she wasn’t trying to read the fax, her gaze snagged on the name Max De Luca. Quickly scanning the document, she gleaned that it was a report with references to Max’s late half brother.
Damien appeared in the doorway, already dressed in black slacks, his shirt not yet buttoned. He lifted a dark eyebrow of inquiry.
“I heard a strange noise from the fax machine. It sounded jammed, so I tried to clear it. What is this about Max De Luca?”
Damien walked toward her and she handed him the papers. “It’s a report. I had him investigated. It’s not unusual.”
“But this mentions his brother. Well, the brother that died. Tony,” she said, still confused.
Damien read over the paper. “It appears that Tony briefly worked for MD and stole some money from the company. One of the company attorneys was determined to prosecute. This says Max De Luca not only paid Tony’s debt, he also paid the attorney to keep quiet and accept a transfer. Wonder what the board would think of this.”
Emma gasped. “You wouldn’t tell them, would you? I can’t imagine why you would. It doesn’t have anything to do with the downsizing.”
Damien’s jaw tightened. “Always protective of Max and Alex,” he said in a velvet voice with an undertone of bitterness. “Don’t worry. This is between Max and me.”
Confused, she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He thumped the paper with his forefinger. “No. You wouldn’t. You remember the story I told you about how my grandfather lost the family home in a business deal where he was cheated?”
“Yes,” she said, wondering where this was going.
“Max D
e Luca’s grandfather was the man who cheated my grandfather. My family home is a Megalos-De Luca resort.”
“Oh, no,” she said, horrified by the connection. Her mind and heart racing, she reached out to him. “That’s horrible.” She could hardly believe it. “I can’t believe Max knows about this. He truly is an honorable man.”
“Some might not agree,” Damien said, tapping the papers that gave damning evidence.
Her stomach tightened in apprehension. “But you wouldn’t use that against him because of something his grandfather did.” A long moment of silence passed and she felt a terrible sense of dread. “Would you?”
“Three generations of my family have suffered in some part due to what the De Lucas did to my grandfather,” he told her.
His harsh expression made her feel as if she were looking at a different man than the Damien she’d come to know. “How long have you known this?” she asked, trying to make sense of it all. “Why did you accept this assignment if you hated him so—” She broke off, suddenly realizing that Damien had taken the job with revenge in mind.
Emma felt as if her world had been turned upside down. If Damien was so consumed with revenge, where did she fit into the plot? He’d known she was protective of Max and Alex. He’d known…
Realization broke through. Her mind flashed back to that time when she’d told Damien about Max’s and Alex’s vulnerabilities. He’d used that information to dig deeper into Max’s situation with his half brother. She’d given him the clue and he’d run with it.
Nausea swept through her. “You were just using me.”
“Just as you were using me. Do you think I didn’t know that you went to Alex and Max every time I told you something important?”
Humiliation stung. Overwhelmed, she shook her head. “I was doing my job.”
“You tried to spy on me,” he said.
The truth hurt, but her heart hurt even more. “I almost thought you cared about me.”
“The irony is that I do, and I know you care about me. The situation is unfortunate.”
“And you mentioned marriage last night. How could you even begin to think we could have a successful marriage?”
“You thought we could, too,” he said. “Admit it.”
Never, she thought. “I would never marry you, because I’d only marry for love, and you’re not capable of it.”
13
Damien tried to reason with Emma, but she recoiled at his touch. Concerned for her emotional state, he insisted on calling his driver to take her home. She left his condo without a backward glance.
The way she’d looked at him, as if he were a monster, sliced at his gut, but he pushed it aside. He had what he needed to bring down Max De Luca. For the sake of his family, he couldn’t stop now.
Damien decided, however, that he wanted an opportunity to talk with Max before he took his final action. Giving his assistant a call, he was immediately put through to Max, and the VP agreed to meet with him.
He carried the report sealed in an envelope in his inner jacket pocket. In a way, he may as well have been carrying a loaded weapon. Max’s assistant informed him of Damien’s presence and he was ushered inside the VP’s richly appointed office.
“Good morning, Damien,” Max said. “Sarah, can you get us some coffee please? How do you take yours?”
“Black,” Damien said.
Max nodded. “Same. Please have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the leather chairs and sofa on the opposite side of the room as the desk. The magnificent view from the floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the mountains in the distance.
“Nice view,” Damien said. It occurred to Damien that Max had never spent a day of his life outside the lap of luxury, a life far different than that of his family.
“I prefer the mountains to the strip. More serene.”
Sarah delivered the coffee and excused herself.
“I understand employees who are being laid off will receive the news tomorrow?” Max asked, taking a sip of his coffee. “I have to confess I was against you from the beginning. Your reputation precedes you. When I look at the new organizational chart, however, it looks as if you skillfully used a scalpel instead of a hatchet.”
Surprised by the praise, he nodded. “There is a right way and a wrong way to reorganize. Sometimes it takes an objective eye to spot redundancies and stay current with changing economies and needs.”
“It’s a painful process, but I think you made it as humane as possible. So, what do you have going next?”
The conversation felt surreal. Damien was talking to the man he’d targeted for most of his life. He worked to access his contempt for the man, but for some reason it wasn’t as strong as before.
“I may take some time off. I have a brother in Florida who is always bugging me to visit him.”
Max lifted his eyebrows. “Time off? You don’t strike me as the type. I know I wasn’t until I got married. Lilli changed my priorities. Hell,” he said. “She changed my life.”
“The love of a good woman,” Damien said.
Max nodded. “Yeah, although I would have been the last man to believe it was possible. Being a father will turn you around, too.”
Silence lingered for a moment. “I’m curious,” Damien said. “Did you know your grandfather well?”
“No. I do know that he was very focused on the company. He was determined to expand the empire, so to speak. My father had his own issues. It was left to me to try to rebuild the De Luca name. I had a half brother, but that’s another sad story. What makes you ask?”
“Are you familiar with the MD Chateau on the outside of Florence, Italy?” Damien watched Max’s face carefully.
Max furrowed his brow in concentration. “It’s not in the city? Right?”
“No. It’s in the countryside.”
“I have a vague recollection, but I don’t think I’ve ever visited it.” He lifted his hand and met Damien’s gaze. “Why? Is there a problem with it?”
“More the way it was acquired,” he said.
“Okay,” Max replied, leaning forward, lacing his fingers together. “What do you know about it?”
“I know that Chateau Megalos-De Luca was once Chateau de Medici and it belonged to my grandfather.”
Fifteen minutes later, Damien walked out of Max De Luca’s office feeling much different than he had going in. He stepped into the elevator thinking that Max De Luca had actually been somewhat reasonable. The damning report about the man felt as if it were burning a hole in his coat pocket.
Damien had spent most of his life fighting one thing or another, the loss of his family, an abusive foster parent, and poverty. He’d always thought that taking down Max De Luca would rid him of one of his biggest demons at the same time it would help right the wrong done to his grandfather.
Now that he had the chance to do it, his appetite for revenge had fled. It wasn’t that Max De Luca was Mr. Nice Guy, because he wasn’t. During that conversation with Max, though, Damien had seen glimpses of himself in the man he’d been prepared to hate.
Max was a family man. His top priority was taking care of his family. That was why he’d protected his half brother. Max’s growing-up situation didn’t sound all that rosy, either. His eyes lit up when he mentioned his wife and baby.
Exiting the elevator, Damien couldn’t squelch his envy at the man’s personal happiness. He couldn’t help thinking about Emma and how he felt when he was with her. Just her presence made the world seem better. It was odd as hell, but she made him want to be better.
Swearing under his breath, he walked into his private office and paced the length of it. He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and stared at it. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for most of his life. He had the gun and the bullet. All he had to do was pull the trigger.
Five minutes later, he’d made his decision and his deed, as far as he was concerned, was done. Hearing the door to the office suite open, he glanced into the outer office, surprised to
see Emma.
His heart stuttered in his chest. “I didn’t expect you to come in,” he said.
She met his gaze, her eyes colder than ice. “I made an agreement. I try very hard to keep my word.”
She slid into her chair and turned on her computer. She clearly hated him. The knowledge stabbed at him. The pain he felt took him by surprise. How had she become so important to him? He’d thought he had everything under control.
“I’ve done some thinking about our agreement,” he said.
She shot him a look of suspicion, but said nothing.
“I’m terminating it effective immediately.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t know how long it will take me to pay you back that kind of money, but—”
He lifted his hand. “You fulfilled your part of the agreement. You owe me nothing.”
“But—” She lifted her hand to her throat. “But you said a year.”
“I changed my mind,” he said, giving her a wry smile. “Billionaire’s prerogative. I can’t buy your loyalty or your trust. I’m not sure I would want to if I could.” He shrugged. “I’m cleaning out my office. I’ve finished this project. You can take off the rest of the day. Except one thing,” he said. “I’d like you to make sure the paper in the shredder basket is destroyed.”
She looked at him in confusion. “Okay. Would you like me to do that now?”
“Yes, I would,” he said and stepped aside so she could go into his office to collect the basket. He caught a draft of her subtle, sweet scent as she passed him and clenched his jaw. He would never hold her again.
“Where do you want me to take it?” she asked.
“Somewhere off-site,” he said.
She dipped her head in surprise.
“It’s the report on Max De Luca,” he said.
Her jaw dropped and she looked at him in surprise, followed by hope, followed by confusion. Clearing her throat, she licked her lips and nodded. “I’ll take care of it right away,” she said softly.
“Thank you,” he said, meeting her gaze for a long moment, his mind replaying the times she’d smiled at him, the times she’d come to him and kissed him, the time they’d talked about wishes, and she’d made him start wishing again.