"Do you suffer from claustrophobia?"
That was a mistake to admit. He might not want her, and suddenly she wanted the position because she was certain she needed it to learn things about herself she had never known and would never again have the opportunity to find out. She nodded reluctantly. "Sometimes."
"Do you know why?"
It was impossible to ignore that soft, captivating voice. It played along her nerve endings, setting them on fire, making her so aware of him. Of her. Of the rise and fall of her breasts, of the fact that he was taller, broader and stronger. That his personality was unexpected. She thought he might be mean. A bully. Using his power and wealth to push others around. He didn't need to do that. He had that voice, so low and sensual – a temptation to sin. Put the voice, his eyes and his body together, and any woman might be lost. She certainly was.
When she didn't answer immediately, he tugged very gently on the rope so that she was forced to take a step into him. At once she was surrounded by his masculine scent. He smelled clean. Fresh. Outdoorsy. A powerful waterfall in a forest. Up close, he was daunting, and much more sensual. Every breath she took drew him deeper into her lungs until she didn't know where she left off and he started.
The red silk connected them. The ends had never left his hands. He controlled movement without seeming to do so. That shook her. He wasn't obvious about it, but he had complete control. "I require an answer, Mariko."
She closed her eyes to block him out but at once she heard the cries of pain. The screams of a woman. A man's voice as he died. Images rose, the crack in the closet door. Her arms around her baby brother. Her hand over his mouth to try to keep him from crying and giving their hiding place away. The streaks of blood running like dark shadows across the floor.
For a moment she couldn't breathe. It was all too real. All too close. She kept the door closed on her persistent nightmares, but now she was bringing it all to the surface and she couldn't go back. No matter what, there would be no going back to her other life.
"I have dreams of being locked in a closet when I was a child. I have nightmares about it nearly every night." He would hear the truth of that if all the rumors about his family were true. It was said one couldn't lie to a Ferraro, so she had no choice but to share her memories when he asked.
He removed the ropes and massaged her wrists, looking for marks on her skin. There were none, which didn't make her as happy as she would have thought. Belonging to him would be incredible, but he wasn't a one-woman man, and she would never accept less.
Ricco stepped away from her, coiling the rope easily in his hands without looking at it, proving it was an extension of him. "I will require you at all hours of the night. I don't sleep very well and I want to be able to practice my art anytime the mood strikes. I'm compensating you well for your time. You'll have your own rooms. During the time you're with me, you will have no other relationships. I made it clear in the ad that if you were married or seeing someone, not to apply."
"I'm not," she said.
"You have only to sign the papers. Read them carefully. My lawyer drew them up and he's very, very thorough. I think we'll suit each other, but I want you to be happy with the arrangement."
He was waiting and she had to answer. Take that last irrevocable step. She would have her own room, her own place where no one could get to her. She would be able to think without panicking. She'd do whatever was necessary, but it had to be the right thing, no mistakes. What she was doing was very, very dangerous, but she had no choice.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "I think this arrangement will suit me just fine."
"How soon can you move in?"
"Immediately. I don't have much. Just my personal clothes and a few items."
"I'll give you the address and a key."
It was done. She had gotten the position when all odds seemed stacked against her. She didn't smile because the consequences were too severe, but she was elated. She had stepped on the path she needed to be on.
CHAPTER THREE
R
icco paced across the floor with the restless energy that always marked him from his brothers. He could be utterly still when needed, but most of the time he was in motion. He trained hard and he worked and played harder, but that energy inside him never quite left him alone. He was aware of Francesca casting him little anxious glances. His beautiful sister-in-law, the true mother of the lot of them now. She'd taken them all on when she took on Stefano.