The Billionaire's Daughter Read online

“I thought you were working at some kind of fashion house downtown? Been fired?” he asked, a slightly mocking tone to his voice.

  Kate was aghast. How could he have possibly known?

  “Why are you being so mean?" she asked, hoping the accusation would back him off. "I’m trying to help you and all you can do is - is - accuse me of stuff.”

  Much to her surprise and dismay he broke into a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

  “I was right. You’re still such a brat. You’re gorgeous and you may be older but you’re still a brat. And I asked you before,” he said, suddenly serious, “what’s all that crap around your eyes?”

  “You are positively impossible!” she spat at him, and attempted to push past him to reach the door, but his hand shot out and clutched her elbow, spinning her around.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “What are you doing?" she protested, shooting him an angry cold glare, though the feel of his hand wrapped around her arm was turning her to jelly.

  He smiled down at her.

  “How dare I what?” he asked, his calm, deliberate manner fueling her ire.

  “How dare you - you --”

  He leaned his head in, very slightly.

  Oh my God, is he going to - to ?

  Subconsciously she licked her heavily lipsticked lips. The dust devils in her stomach were causing havoc and she felt powerless to move against the sure steady grip of his hand.

  “How dare I do this?” he inquired, smoothly, bringing his free hand up to her face. She held her breath and began to close her eyes.

  Oh My God! Finally! Finally after all these years... I can't believe it....

  But it wasn't his kiss she felt. It was his thumb as it slid across her lips, smudging the thick scarlet lipstick off her mouth.

  “Wh - what...” she wailed, her eyes flying open, stunned at unexpected the turn of events. She tried to twist her head away but the hand holding her arm shot up and clutched her hair.

  “Hold still!” he growled. “My ankle is really hurting but this slutty lipstick is bothering me more.”

  “S- s - stop!” she demanded.

  “You stop,” he barked at her. “Honestly Kate you have always been so difficult.”

  He was wiping the lipstick from his thumb on to his jeans, his forceful hold refusing her any release.

  “Well, it may be smeared but at least it’s a start,” he said, staring at her mouth.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” she yelled, hurt and frustrated, her quick temper taking hold. “I’ll wear whatever makeup I damn well please! Let me go!”

  He didn’t respond to her outburst, but fixed his gaze, his steely blue eyes locking hers. Panic was seizing her and the dust devils had joined together to form an F1 tornado. Abruptly his free hand grabbed the other side of her head, pulling her face even closer to his.

  Oh God!

  An instant later his lips were against her lips, startlingly soft and gentle. In spite of her angry defiance she felt her body respond, and her legs barely supported her as she was washed away in a tidal wave of wanting. His lips pressed harder, his tongue seeking out hers. She pressed against him, any vestige of resistance having totally melted away. He was devouring her. The tornado raced through her belly, and when he pulled back she let out a series of breathless gasps, and dropping her head into his shoulder she punched him weakly.

  “You had no right to do that,” she protested breathlessly, speaking into his skin and punching him again.

  “Stop punching me or I’ll punch you back,” he warned, ignoring her protest. “Tell me” he said quietly, molding her into his body. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “Ok - you’re right. I was fired,” she admitted, her face still buried in his chest, her nostrils inhaling the sweet, spicy smell of him. “It doesn’t even matter. I don’t care. It’s no big deal. And how did you know where I was working anyway?”

  “Your father keeps me posted on things from time to time,” he replied coolly.

  Then to her surprise, he released her and settled himself on the edge of the bath.

  “I need to get in the tub but you need to help me remove my shoes. I think my ankle is swelling.”

  He was looking up at her. She felt transfixed. What had just happened? Didn’t he just kiss her, madly kiss her, passionately kiss her?

  “Kate - my shoes!” he reminded her, firmly.

  A strange sensation moving through her body, Kate sank to her knees in front of him. It felt odd - but not odd-bad, just odd - to be kneeling in such a way. She unlaced his hefty boots, and as she pulled off the first one, followed by his wet sock, he began to stroke her hair. Sexual sparks surged through her body and she let out a soft, unexpected moan. She paused, staring up at him.

  “Why did you stop?” he queried.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, and turned her attention to the foot that was injured. She undid the laces and gingerly began to pull. She heard Dante wince and looked back up at him.

  “It’s ok. Keep going,” he said.

  She pulled as gently as she was able and it finally came off. Peeling back the sock she could see Dante’s ankle and the top of his foot was puffy and swollen.

  “Oh dear,” she murmured. “It doesn’t look too good.”

  “Look more closely. See if it’s discolored by the heel,” he crooned, leaning forward, softly pressing down on the top of her head.

  She swallowed. Something strangely wonderful was happening to her, and as she lowered her head to stare at the tender, bruised, sensitive skin, there was an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “It’s kind of puffy and purple,” she murmured.

  “Thank you,” he purred. “Give me your hand.”

  She looked up as she raised her arm, and he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and helped her to her feet.

  “I think there’s hope for you, Kate,” he said, sounding weirdly formal. “You may go now. Please put the clean clothes Cecil will have left for me on my bed.”

  “Um - sure,” she replied, and feeling decidedly peculiar, turned and walked out the door, closing it behind her.

  What the hell just happened? What does he mean, hope for me? That kiss - oohhhh --

  CHAPTER TWO

  Totally unnerved, Kate meandered from the room and moved slowly up the stairs totally forgetting about the clothes Cecil had left. Entering her bedroom she flopped on her kingsized bed. He had almost seduced her. In fact he could have if he’d kept kissing her. It was heaven. Better than heaven.

  Laying back she closed her eyes and relived the moment. It was to die for. Her thighs squeezed together of their own accord. Dante Giordano. He was incredible looking. But he always had been. There was just more of him now. Much more. And he was - he was - she couldn’t find the words.

  Taking a deep breath she thought back to that ‘thing’ he had done to her. A warm chill shivered up her spine. That ‘thing’ was fifteen minutes in her life she would never, ever forget.

  She was about to ride her favorite horse, Odessa in a big show. The mare was being transported out later that day and Kate would be leaving the following morning. Having not attended many horse shows in recent years, she was nervous but very excited about the prospect and was determined to do well.

  It was a beautiful morning and she had run down to the stables thinking she had just enough time for a much needed practice ride before lunch. Bouncing into the barn she found Odessa gleaming from head to foot. There was not a spot of dirt on her and her mane and tail had been braided ready for the show ring.

  She called out to Javier, the groom. There was no answer. Running to the back of the barn she saw him standing a little distance off deep in conversation with Dante. She’d had no idea Dante was even on the property and her heart had skipped a beat. It was perfect. She'd ask him to have lunch with her after the ride. She called to Javier, who looked up and saw her waving her arm trying to get his attention. He immediately came
running up the small incline.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, slightly out of breath, concern on his face.

  “I need a practice ride. Tack her up please,” she said impatiently.

  “But Kate, if you ride her I’ll have to groom her again. It’s a big job. I don’t know if I can finish before the horse van gets here,” he replied, hoping she would understand.

  “Of course you’ll have time, and if the van has to wait a little while then they can wait,” she argued.

  “But Kate,” the groom pleaded, “you don’t understand what ---”

  “What’s the problem?” Dante interjected, having jogged up to see why Javier and Kate appeared to be having an argument.

  Kate and Javier turned to face him. She swallowed hard. He looked amazing. That black hair and those blue eyes, and he was wearing a tank top. Talk about muscles. She took a deep breath attempting to shake off the distraction.

  “I want to ride and Javier is refusing to do his job and tack up my mare,” she explained curtly.

  Dante frowned and looked at Javier.

  “I just spent two hours grooming the horse,” Javier explained, “and 30 minutes braiding the mane and tail. If she rides I have to groom her again. If the horse comes back sweating and needs a bath the braids could get messed up. The van is coming but I don’t have an exact time, and I don’t think ...”

  “And I told you,” Kate interrupted, “the van can wait if it needs to.”

  “Javier,” Dante said, calmly, “do me a favor and give Kate and me a few minutes.”

  “Wait a second!” Kate declared. “Javier don’t ---” but it was too late. Javier was already jogging away.

  “Damn it, Dante,” she snapped, then wished she hadn’t. And wished she had better control over her temper. She really wanted to have lunch with him and the last thing she wanted was get to get into an argument.

  “Kate!” he frowned, “if you don’t calm down you’re going to have a problem.”

  “Oh really!” she scoffed. Then caught herself just in time. She’d been about to tell him to mind his own business.

  "Listen. I'll ride, and then you could stay and we can have lunch,” she continued, trying to change the subject. “We haven't caught up in ages.”

  Dante glared at her, and Kate, caught in his icy blue stare, felt a heady rush. An unexpected, unfamiliar something that was making her temples throb. And for no apparent reason her mouth had become inexplicably dry.

  “What you’re asking is selfish and unreasonable. Just think about it for a moment. That guy just --”

  “--- just what? Did what he’s paid to do?” she spat. Now she was really frustrated and there was no stopping her. Her temper had taken hold!

  “Kate. I’m warning you. Settle down or you’ll be sorry.”

  “I just want to ride my frickin' horse!” she yelled, leaning her shoulders forward.

  Dante shook his head.

  “Okay Princess. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  What happened next both appalled and horrified her. With one foul swoop she was up off the ground, over his shoulder and being carried up to the house.

  “DAMMIT PUT ME DOWN!” she’d screamed. “NOW!”

  Dante had completely ignored her protestations, but when she kicked out and squirmed violently, almost dislodging herself from his hold, he stopped and said in a very deep, stern voice,

  “I promise you, one of these days I’m going to spank you silly,” and swatted her a couple of times.

  She was absolutely mortified. She couldn’t believe that he’d smacked her and even worse what he had threatened. But it had stopped her kicking. If he’d been brazen enough to throw her over his shoulder he could just easily be brazen enough to make good on his frightening promise.

  When her father met them at the door to see what all the commotion was about, Dante had stood her down and explained very calmly the details of her unreasonable request. She had interrupted him at the outset, but Dante had shot her a look with those warning eyes and she felt herself wither under the gaze. Her father, to her shock and dismay, had actually sided with Dante. Absolutely furious she had raced up to her room slamming the door as hard as she could.

  Not only didn't she get to ride her horse, she'd gotten into a fight with Dante and blown a golden opportunity to spend time with him.

  The incident haunted her for months and often crossed her mind in the years that followed. And always - every single time it came to mind - she felt a hot erotic spark travel through her sex. Now the wetness and wanting was evident again. Her hand slithered into her tights and her fingers touched her delicate, sensitive little button.

  She let out a long, deep sigh. Now he was in the house and actually soaking in a tub just down the stairs.

  Oh good grief, she thought. I can’t stand it!

  Impatiently she ripped off her leggings and laid back down, envisioning his face and chest and recalling his intoxicating aroma. She let her mind drift, surrendering to its whims and fancies. She imagined she was still in the bathroom and he was pulling her sweater up and over her head, admiring her full, round, perfect breasts.

  She imagined his rough hands roaming across her shoulders and moving down to cup her tits, then feeling his warm and wicked tongue as he licked and sucked at her nipples. She moaned softly, believing he would never stop, and every time she pulled back he would close his hands firmly around her mounds of flesh, insisting she stay right where she was.

  Her eyes shot open. No man had ever treated her in such a fashion and she didn’t understand why she loved the idea of Dante doing just that. She had always been the one who called the shots, she who controlled the pace and tempo. But in her fantasy Dante was no such man. Oh no! Her body was his to enjoy as he wished.

  Oh Dante, she moaned. That kiss. That kiss was unbelievable. I have dreamed of that kiss for sooooo long.

  She ran her fingers across her mouth. The way he had clutched her hair ...!

  She squeezed her thighs together with the memory, thinking how she wanted him to do it all over again. She couldn't stand it. She wanted him to make love to her so badly. Had wanted it for so long. And he was just through the door, down to the guest suite...

  Dare she? Dare she go to him? She might never have this chance again!

  Impulsively she jumped from her bed and raced down the stairs, her heart hammering in her chest. Walking quickly to his bedroom she poked her head in. Empty. But she could hear him in the tub. Throwing caution to the wind she walked forward and knocked on the bathroom door.

  "Yes?"

  She paused -

  Do it! Go on - you know you want to!

  “It's me. Can I come in?"

  She thought her voice sounded feeble and shaky and prayed she was wrong.

  "Kate? Sure. Enter at your own risk!"

  My own risk? Oh Lord! Here goes nothing...

  She pushed open the door and walked in. He was lounging back and she fought the almost overwhelming desire to cast her eyes down his body.

  "Yes Miss Hollister? What can I do for you,” he asked, smiling up at her. His wet hair was askew and there were droplets of water covering his chest hair, like dew on the grass in the early morning. She wanted to lean over the tub and lick them...

  “Kate?”

  He broke into her decadent thoughts and she realized that once again, she’d just been standing staring. She was at a complete loss for words and suddenly felt very foolish, wondering if she’d made a huge mistake and shouldn’t have come down at all..

  "I - uh - just wanted to make sure you're ok. I mean - make sure you didn't need anything, or...." her voice trailed off.

  He knew exactly why she'd come down and she could see it in the cool, quiet sureness of his eyes.

  "You always were impulsive. Act before thinking, right Kate? Do what you want and ask permission later?"

  "I should go," she blurted, and turned for the door.

  "No! Wait! I don't want you to leave," h
e said, stopping her in her tracks.

  "You don't?" she asked, turning back around.

  "Of course not,” he said softly, leaning forward, “Kate, don’t you know I feel the same pull between us as you do.”

  He was staring at her, penetrating her with his crystal gaze.

  "You - you - you do?" she stammered.

  "I've always had a thing for you. Just like you've always had a thing for me. Timing's just been off. That's all."

  "I - uh - I'm - I don’t know what to say.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this.

  "But you’re not here to talk -- are you?"

  Her stomach was in knots. He wasn't giving her an inch.

  "Why don't you take off those leggings and socks and join me?" he offered, his voice warm and inviting.

  "Seriously? So --you think I came down here to get in the bath with you?" she said, her voice tight.

  "Didn't you?"

  God! What do I do? What do I do?

  "Perhaps I misunderstood,” he said, still gazing up her with those extraordinary eyes. “Or if you're not ready - don't want to - no problem," he finished casually, and turning his head away slipped deeper into the water.

  Don't be such a coward. He's here! He's right here! You've been waiting for this your whole life!

  Taking a deep breath she grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it over head, then waited for him to turn and look at her. But he didn't He didn’t react at all. He did not turn his head to watch her, did not speak, or even move in the water.

  With shaking hands she pulled off her socks, then slipped her fingers into the elastic waistband of the tights and slid them down, tossing them aside. She was looking down, about to remove her panties when she heard the sound of the water. Glancing up she saw he was completely focused on her. Completely.

  She was tall and lithe, her legs long and still slightly bronzed from the Southern California summer sun, and she had a flat, firm stomach. The red panties looked as any catalog model would make them look. Flattering, feminine and fervently sexy. She was about to slip them off, albeit somewhat red-faced, when he stopped her.

  “Those are quite appetizing,” he said. “Leave them on.”