Tempted by Her Billionaire Boss(23)

     



 

"It bothered you to say that to Leonid tonight..."

She closed her eyes as the magical pressure of his fingers made her  tingle right down to her toes. "Not because I don't think you're a good  man. You are. It's what happens to Leonid's legacy that I have an issue  with. You tearing his company apart like that... My family has owned  Masserias for thirty years. If someone bought them out and changed  everything I'd be brokenhearted."

He pressed his thumb into the joint between her thumb and forefinger.  Frankie almost moaned out loud. "So why didn't you go into the family  business if you love it so much?"

"My parents wanted me to. I wanted to forge my own path. I've wanted to  work as a PA for as long as I can remember. I always thought it was so  glamorous, but challenging at the same time."

"Glamorous? With a tyrant like me?"

She opened her eyes. "You are a different case."

His gaze darkened with intent. "Okay," she admitted, "I love working  with you when you're not in one of your moods. You have an amazing  brain."

He grabbed her other hand and started working on it. "Only my brain?"

"And the rest of you..." she conceded. "I appreciated all of you from  the beginning, much to my dismay. That is so utterly unlike me."

"You had a thing for my brother..."

She gave her head a shake. "Why do you keep saying that? Coburn is  attractive and charming and I like working for him, but I've never had a  thing for him."

"You idol-worship him."

His tone was decisive. She put a hand on his chest and levered herself  up to look at him. "My lord, you Grants have the biggest egos. I do not  idol-worship Coburn. He is an inspiring, wonderful person to work for.  He treats me like I'm an equal, valued partner. A somebody...but that's  it."

He frowned. "Of course you're a somebody. You're excellent at your job."

She glowed at his praise. Harrison meant every word he said. "I was a disaster with you at first."

"Because your mind was in the gutter. Exactly where mine was."

The warmth in her cheeks intensified. "Sometimes you need validation,"  she told him. "My parents didn't think a career was the right place for  me. I never had a good GPA. It was average, if that. They thought I  should be managing Masserias because I'm so good with people." Her mouth  curved. "My dad says I have the magic touch."

"You certainly do."

The meaningful tone in his voice made her swat him. "Harrison."

He unsnapped her bra. She arched away from the mattress to allow him to  strip it off, although that proved to be a bad idea because the slide of  his fingers over the bare curve of her breast, over its taut center,  were infinitely distracting.

"What about your brothers and sisters? Did they go into the family business?"

"I have five." Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. "One's a neurosurgeon,  one's a psychologist, then there's the chemical engineer, banker and if  you like the non-traditional route, my brother Salvatore is an  entrepreneur with a state-wide series of fitness clubs at twenty-six."

"The one who forgot the cake?"

She nodded. "So you can see why I was the obvious choice to take over Masserias... The unspectacular one of the bunch."

His chin lowered. "I think that's an inaccurate description. You handle  people with a deftness I've rarely experienced, Francesca. You have  great natural instincts for business and you speak three languages."

So did her sister Federica: English, Italian and Spanish. And she was a psychologist.

She gave him a pained look. "You don't need to try and make me feel better. I'm at peace with who I am."

"Are you?" She didn't like how his far too perceptive gaze seemed to  look right through her. "You should shift some of your absolute truths  into the department governing your opinion of yourself. Ten minutes with  Juliana and she's explaining the psychology of Leonid to you. That's a  gift."

"Speaking of Leonid," she offered casually, "care to talk about what's making your head too full?"

His eyes flashed. "No, in fact."

The intimacy of their position, the way the hard muscles of his stomach  quivered as she traced her way down toward the sexy dip between his abs  and leg spurred her to dig a bit more. "Could you put up enough of a  stink with the board that they would maintain Siberius as a separate  entity? Keeping in mind, of course, we're only talking in  hypotheticals."         

     



 

His gaze narrowed. "Perhaps. But when you only have so much political capital with a board, you choose your battles wisely."

"Right." She left that hanging in the air between them because she wanted him to think about it.

"Francesca," he growled. "Stop meddling."

She followed the sexy dip down over his muscled thigh, luxuriating in  the hard, densely packed muscle beneath her fingertips. "Juliana says  Anton Markovic is an evil man. That he has underworld connections that  make her wish Leonid didn't do business with him." She looked up at him.  "Does he know you're after him?"

"No." He captured her exploring hand in his. "And you can put his name  out of your head. Juliana's right. Anton Markovic is not a man to be  played with."

"Yet you are..."

"Francesca." He bent his head and put his mouth to the curve of her breast. "I think I'm going to have to silence you."

That might be fine, too. His mouth closed over her hardened nipple,  scoring it with his teeth. The way he used those sharp incisors was  truly...remarkable. A moan broke from her throat. "That is not fair."

He drew her nipple into his mouth with a hard suction that made her  whole body go rigid. The slide of his hair-roughened leg as it parted  hers rendered her distraction complete. He really wasn't finished with  her.

She moved against him, her smooth legs luxuriating in the feel of his  harder male limbs. His teeth and lips teased her other nipple into a  hard, aching button. It took him about five seconds to drag her back  into the maelstrom.

"Now we go freestyle."

Freestyle? Oh, the fantasy. That was apparently over and they were onto a  very vivid, very real exploration of her stomach. The tender,  vulnerable skin of her lower abdomen... She clutched his coarse hair in  her fingers. He couldn't do that. Not after what they'd just done.

She tugged on his hair. "Harrison." He made a low sound in his throat  and nudged her tensed legs apart. She jammed her eyes shut as his  fingers parted her and he slid his tongue against her slick flesh. The  way he savored the essence of them was too intimate. Too much. But then  again everything about tonight had been too much.

He rasped his approval as her legs fell open and she surrendered  completely. His licks turned long and languorous, intent on waking her  body up. Then they became purposeful, unrelenting. He waited until her  limbs stiffened, she dug her hands in his hair and came, shuddering  against his mouth before he moved his way back up her body, slid another  condom on and took her with a deep, breath-stealing thrust. She threw  back her head and reveled in his possession. In the hot, sweet  perfection they made together.

When he sought his release with a ragged groan and buried his mouth in  her throat, she held him to her while the storm they had created  together unleashed its final fury. His breathing slowed, evened out. It  was long minutes before she levered herself up onto her elbows and saw  that he'd passed out in her arms.

A primal instinct, a need to nurture, stirred deep inside her. It was  stronger than the magnitude of what she'd done with her career tonight.  Stronger than all of it. Because in that moment, she knew no matter what  the morning brought, this had been right. She had pulled him back from  the edge.

If it had also tipped her feelings for him, a man she could never have,  into dangerous territory? If her own emotions were wildly out of  control? That was the stuff of tomorrow.





CHAPTER TEN

IT WAS THE LONG, elegant leg thrown over his that convinced Harrison  something was very off in his universe. The floral perfume hit him  next...heady and distracting. It occurred to him he might be having  another of his very inappropriate dreams about his PA and he latched on  to the desperate appeal of that thought with gusto. He opened one eye to  verify. No, he was not dreaming and yes, that was Francesca sprawled on  top of him, the tantalizing floral scent of her mixed with something  that could only be described as steamy hot sex.

That she'd had with him in this bed last night.

Mother of God.

He closed his eyes. Traced the steps back in his head. Leonid had agreed  to sign the deal and for some bizarre reason instead of feeling elated,  he'd felt curiously dead about it inside. The darkness had descended to  take the place of the numbness, the monsters in his head had roared to  life and it had all become much too much.