It’s frustrating as fuck.
And, I can admit with reluctance, admirable.
I just finish washing my hair and turn off the water when she opens the bathroom door and grins when I step out of the glassed-in stall.
“Did your call go well?”
“Not exactly.” The smile falls from her face, and her lips turn into a pout.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. I just won’t be able to go home tomorrow as I originally planned. It looks like I need to book a room at the Ritz in Paris.”
I dry my legs and wrap the towel around my hips. “Why Paris?”
“Paris is always a good idea, Carmine.” She laughs and boosts herself up onto the countertop. “My house is being remodeled, and it won’t be ready for at least six more months. So, I’ll be living out of hotels for a while. And why not do that in my favorite city in the world? I’ll shop and take in some culture.”
“Come stay with me in Seattle.”
The offer is past my lips before I even realize what in the hell I’m suggesting.
“That’s ludicrous.”
“Why?” I frame her face in my hands and brush my lips across hers. “Why is it ridiculous that I want to spend more time with you? Your home is unavailable, but mine is just sitting there.”
“I’ve never really spent much time in your city,” she says hesitantly as if she’s actually considering it.
“I’d love to show you Seattle.”
She sighs softly and rubs her nose over mine. “Are you sure about this? When your family finds out that you’re practically living with a Tarenkov—”
“Let me deal with my family, darling. I’ll make some calls right now so the condo is ready.”
“You live in a condo?” She tips her head to the side.
“Yes, why?”
“You just strike me as a house man. A big, fancy one.”
I have a fancy house, but you won’t be living in it with me.
“Well, it’s a big, fancy condo in the heart of downtown Seattle. Penthouse. So, I’m not exactly slumming it.”
Her lips twitch.
“When would you like to go?” I ask as I bring up my assistant’s contact on my phone. “Tonight?”
“Tomorrow,” she says as she jumps off the counter and tugs my towel away. “I have plans for you today.”
I pull the belt of her robe free and feel my dick harden at the sight of her small, firm breasts, already puckered and ready for my mouth. She lets the terrycloth drop to the floor, and when I simply reach out and plant my fingertip against her hard clit, she gasps.
Her body is responsive. And as much as I hate myself for it, I can’t get enough of her.
I lift her and carry her back to the bedroom, where we tumble over already-mussed linens. She rolls on top of me, straddles my thighs, and tugs the skin of my neck between her teeth.
The bite stings, but only briefly before she licks me there, humming in delight.
I drag my fingertips up and down her calves. She’s so fucking soft, so smooth. Everywhere.
“I’m going to ride you hard and fast,” she mutters.
“No.”
Her blue eyes meet mine in surprise.
“It’s not going to be fast.”
In one quick move, I have Nadia pinned under me.
“I’m going to take my time with you for the rest of the day. I’m going to make you moan, sigh, and forget your fucking name.”
Her pupils dilate, and her breaths come faster with lust and anticipation.
I kiss my way down her torso and then nudge my shoulders between her legs, spreading her wide. I feast until she’s a writhing mass of lust, and my cock pulses with need.
I almost forget to reach for the condom but remember to sheath myself just before I plunge inside her. And then I still.
“Move,” she insists, but I only grin down at her.
“Is this what you want?” Very slowly, I pull back, letting the rim of my dick glide against the walls of her womanhood. I’m not disappointed when she moans in delight.
“Faster.”
“No.”
I kiss her lips and slowly slide back in, torturing us both.
“You’re not in charge right now, Nadia.”
She whimpers, and I pull out again, then slam into her, making her gasp and open her eyes in surprise.
“Jesus, Carmine.”
“No, darling. Just Carmine.”
I take her on the ride of her life, moving effortlessly from slow and easy to fast and frenzied. Finally, when we’re both sweaty and gasping, I let her fall over the edge into oblivion.
Enjoying Nadia has been a pleasure. Making her fall in love with me…seemingly effortless. If her last name weren’t Tarenkov, I might let myself feel something for her other than simple desire.
But that’s not the case. Because hatred has a pulse, and I have a job to do.
“Well, you weren’t kidding when you said it was fancy,” Nadia says the next afternoon as we step off the private elevator into the penthouse. The truth is, the family owns the entire building. We use the apartments on the lower floors for many different things, such as offices and torture space. The penthouse is a luxury condo that we keep for guests—or for times like these when someone in the family needs to use it. “Look at this view!”
She hurries over to the heavy glass doors and opens them to the balcony. Puget Sound spreads out before us in all her glory, the blue water dotted with sailboats and ferries.
“You definitely can’t beat the view.”
I walk up behind her, rest my hands on the railing on either side of her, and kiss her smooth neck just below her golden hairline.
Nadia’s short hair is sleek and sexy. Just as alluring as the long hair she’s been known for.
“What made you decide to cut your hair?” I ask.
“I didn’t.” She turns in my arms and leans her elbows on the railing as she stares up at me. A slight breeze blows around us. “It was cut for me.”
“By?”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
I catch her face in my hand. “Who cut your hair, Nadia?”
She licks her lips. “I honestly don’t know. I was ambushed. They cut it, broke a rib, and then disappeared. That’s why I was in Miami. I needed to get away.”
“Why hasn’t your family tracked down who did that to you?”
As much as I hate the Tarenkovs, my blood boils at the thought of anyone laying a hand on this woman.
We don’t hurt women. Ever.
“Because they don’t know. I didn’t tell them.”
“Nadia—”
“Don’t lecture me.”
“Your father and brother need to know so they can protect you.”
“I can protect myself.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment. But someone was able to get to you. Why your hair?”
“I’m known for it. It’s just hair, Carmine. It’ll grow back. It was the broken rib that really pissed me off. Couldn’t breathe right for a month. Now, let’s drop it.”
“For now. But we’ll circle back to it. Now, would you like the grand tour of your new abode?”