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“No. I’m saying you haven’t paid enough attention.”

There are very few people in this world who would say that to me. Even fewer who would survive saying it with that particular look in their eyes. I should be annoyed. Instead, something low and hot twists in my stomach.

“Do you always speak to your employer this way?”

“Only when he’s about to make a stupid decision.”

I stare at her. She holds my gaze. Goddamn. She’s either fearless or has absolutely no sense of self-preservation. I like both possibilities more than I should.

“You aren’t afraid of me,” I say.

Her expression changes slightly. “Should I be?”

That answer does something to me. I’ve had men challenge me before. That’s nothing new. It’s the fact that she genuinely doesn’t seem to understand why anyone would be intimidated. I take another slow step forward.

“I think you should be more careful about who you decide to challenge, Bella,” I say with a smirk.

She frowns. “And I think you should be more careful about making decisions about things you don’t know enough about.”

There she is again. That fire. I’ve spent years surrounded by people who measure every word before it leaves their mouths. People who flatter me, fear me, obey me, or try to manipulate me. Katya does none of those things. She simply says what she thinks.

And, dio mio, I want to devour her. Fuck it…

As she launches into another explanation of L’Oscuro’s racing potential, it occurs to me that I should tell her that I don’t plan on selling L’Oscuro. The stable hand probably heard Aldo and me near the stables discussing the stallion’s future.

I’d told him I wanted to breed L’Oscuro once he was older. His bloodline was excellent, his physical attributes were exceptional, and if his racing career developed the way I expected, his value would only increase. Someone must have heard part of the conversation and misunderstood.

It is not surprising since Aldo and I speak Italian most of the time when we’re discussing private matters. Apparently, somebody heard enough to create a rumor and not enough to understand it. All this outrage because of a translation problem.

But as I watch Katya go on and on, all I want to do is possess her and fuck her until I’m all she sees. I’ve only just met her, but the pull is already bordering on obsession. And judging by the way she pauses when I move closer, I’m not the only one feeling it..

“What are you doing?” she breathes out.

Her chest heaves gently, and I watch her nipples tighten to hard peaks underneath her cream top. Oh, she feels it alright.

“What do you think?” I challenge, taking another step and closing what little distance remains between us.

I watch her eyes widen imperceptibly and darken to a honey brown, echoing the need surging in my veins. The flash of vulnerability clears almost instantly as she lifts her chin. “I don’t know what you mean, Dario. Here I am talking about something important…”

Before she can finish, I grip her stubborn chin and press my mouth to hers, cutting off her tirade. The connection is instant, potent, and ludicrously magnetic. She sucks in a sharp breath and kisses me back with the same vigor, slightly easing the hunger roaring through my veins.

I break the kiss. “Liar,” I murmur before taking her lips again.

This time it’s slow and deep. I savor her taste until I can think of nothing else. Her fingers curl into my shirt, and I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. She’s become a drug, and I want more.

The urgency in me is alarming as I push her against the desk and break the kiss, slowly laving and nipping down her throat. I stop at the pulse beating hard along the side of her neck and suck.

Her head falls back as she moans, “Dario...”

My name on her lips nearly snaps the last thread of restraint I have. “Fuck, Bella. I need you. I can’t stop,” I whisper as I kiss up her neck.

“Don’t stop,” she moans.

And that’s all I need.

I spin her around and press her forward over the desk, my hand firm between her shoulder blades. “Stay,” I growl against her ear, and she shudders, her palms flattening against the polished wood. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

She trembles, but she obeys. The willing surrender hits me like a drug. Sharper than whiskey, more addictive than power. No one has ever given themselves to me like this. Katya gives me her body because she wants this, and the knowledge only makes me want more.