A Scandal in the Headlines(46)

His assistant’s brows rose. That was obviously a threat.

The elevator stopped smoothly, discharging Alessandro’s assistant on one of the higher floors, and then the doors swished shut and they were alone again. Elena told herself there was no reason at all to be so nervous. Alessandro lounged against the far wall of the car, looking deceptively languid in what was clearly a bespoke suit, the way it marveled over every fine line of his physique. The bright golden walls seemed to shrink into her as the car kept moving. His dark green eyes found hers, and Elena’s heart picked up speed.

“Second thoughts?” he asked softly. A challenge.

“You’re a very formidable man,” she said. “Do you enjoy it?”

He only watched her, that arrogant face a study in careless, encompassing masculine power. His dark brows rose in query.

“Wielding that kind of authority like that,” she said. “Making that poor man jump through your hoops without even the faintest pretense of politeness.”

Dark green eyes lit with amusement. “Are you calling me rude, Elena? Or just a bad boss?”

“If that’s how you treat your employees, I shudder to think how you treat your enemies.” She smiled coolly. “Oh, but wait. I already know.”

Alessandro’s mouth crooked. “Point taken,” he said gruffly, surprising her. “I apologize.”

“Your assistant is very likely weeping in the toilet,” she continued, her tone dry, burying her confusion. Alessandro? Apologizing? “Don’t feel you have to apologize to me.”

“For the record,” he said, laughter in his voice, “‘that poor man’ comforts himself with a new Maserati every fiscal year. He’s certainly not weeping as he cashes his paycheck.”

“If you say so.”

“Come here.” His voice dropped, became something else. Something that wound through her like honey, golden and slow, making it hard to remember that he even had an assistant, or why on earth she cared.

“You’re at your place of business,” she said primly, but she went to him, anyway. “Smiting down every assistant in your path, apparently. All in a day’s work, no doubt.”

He slid a hand around to the back of her neck and then tugged her off balance so she sprawled against his chest.

This was familiar, finally. His scent, his heat. That gleam in his eyes. Her immediate reaction, molten and hot. And only as it washed through her did she understand how much she’d needed the reminder. That it didn’t matter how formidable he might seem here. How distant. That this was still theirs, this electric current. This need.

It was why she was here.

“Ah, Elena,” he murmured, simply holding her there against the wall of his chest, his thumb moving against her nape, his expression so intent it made her knees feel like water. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Do you mean in general or in this elevator?” she asked, aware of the breathlessness in her voice, the pounding desire that she had no doubt he could see all over her, the way he always did.

His mouth curved. “I already know what I’m going to do to you in this elevator,” he told her, his other hand wrapping around her hip and pulling her against him, letting her feel how much he wanted her. His voice lowered to that sexy growl that lit her up, heating her blood, making her melt. “It might be acrobatic, but I think you can handle it.”

Elena heard the ping that announced they’d arrived at the ground floor, but Alessandro didn’t move. Her hands were pressed against the fascinating muscles of his perfect torso as she arched into him. It wasn’t enough, and she didn’t care where she was. This was his company—let him care. She lifted herself up on her toes and moved her mouth so close to his that if she licked her lips, she’d taste him.

“Go ahead, then,” she whispered, daring him. “Show me some acrobatics.”

On some level she was vaguely aware of the elevator doors sliding open, but all that mattered was Alessandro. That dark, consuming green gaze. That familiar fire, still so devastating and far too hot. As if he blacked out everything else.

He laughed, sex and heat and delicious challenge, and she shivered in anticipation, because she knew that sound, she knew its sensual promise—

And everything exploded.

Flashing lights, shouting. The press of too many bodies, the harsh slap of all that noise—

It took her too long to make sense of it—to understand that a scrum of paparazzi crowded into the open elevator door, cameras snapping and tape rolling, while Elena was still plastered against Alessandro’s chest, clinging to him, announcing their relationship in stark, unmistakable terms.