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Oh.
She smiled and quickly typed in, I haven’t read it yet.
A second later: It’s good. Allow me to give it to you.
She typed in Thank you. I would love that.
A minute later, an email arrived that a new book had been gifted to her e-reader. She smiled to herself, looking forward to getting into bed tonight with red-hot memories of Jack’s touch, and a gift from him.
But she wasn’t ready for bed yet. She poured herself a glass of the Cabernet she’d opened last night and took a sip, wandering around her apartment, stopping in front of the mantel that held dozens of family photos. She reached for one of her dad. His death in a boating accident when she was in college had been horrible. It had been a terrifying, drawn-out ordeal, as the Coast Guard searched for his body in the Gulf of Mexico and came up empty. She and Antonio had spent countless frantic, sleepless nights worrying, but eventually, the search was called off and her father presumed dead. Antonio’s death in a car accident last fall, though quick, had left the bigger hole in her heart. Mostly because she’d had no one to grieve with, no one to remember with, and no one left to protect her.
What had Antonio always told her? Be careful, bella. We have enemies. You have to use your mente.
She’d always laughed at him. After all, he made everything seem so serious, so dire—even her senior prom. She’d ended up giving up on finding a date and going with her brother to that final high school dance. Better to go have fun with Antonio than to see her brother twisted in knots by his irrational fears.
At least, she’d always thought he was being irrational.
“Stop it, Eva,” she whispered aloud, setting her father’s picture back on the mantle. Her father’s and Antonio’s deaths were just tragic accidents. Nothing more. She couldn’t afford to start scaring herself, not when she finally had the chance to stop hiding and embrace a wider, fuller life.
She didn’t sleep well that night. Unbelievably, it wasn’t the thought of being followed that scared her the most as she flip-flopped between reading her new book and trying to sleep. What scared her was how easily Jack had hooked her, just like he’d hooked the dozens of other women Eva had heard rumors about. She already knew she’d be anything Jack Bennett wanted, do anything it took, if it meant one more touch from him and his expert fingers.
Chapter 5
Never-ending first Monday of the month status meetings were par for the course at The Fiorini Group. Jack had the entire morning blocked out for them, but they’d often carry over into the afternoon. When Antonio had been alive, as next-in-line to CEO, Jack had played an active part in the proceedings.
But things were very different now. From Jack’s new vantage point at the head of the table, the reception was decidedly frosty. Everywhere he turned, he fielded suspicious glances from his twenty vice presidents, especially from Christof, Jack’s next-in-line.
That pompous jackass had been gunning for Jack’s job since he started.
What had Christof called Jack? A loose cannon. Too volatile and unpredictable.
Antonio had been so even-keeled, so nice and diplomatic, that Jack had happily assumed the role of the ball-buster to complement him. The Fiorini Group needed that kind of person, someone who wouldn’t take any shit from people out to screw them out of the best possible deal. Consequently, he’d made his share of enemies over the years. The people at this table had all loved and respected Antonio, and Pietro before him, but now Jack felt like an infiltrator in the company he’d help to build.
It’ll take time. That’s what Antonio would’ve said. That’s what Antonio had said, when he’d assumed this seat the month after his father died. His confidence had never wavered, or if it had, Antonio never showed a ripple. He had a mind for this. He owned this chair.
Jack swiveled toward the warm sunlight slashing into the windows through two skyscrapers and tented his fingers in front of him. He’d never been the nice guy, but it sure would be good right now to be adored the way Antonio had been. To have friends to back him up. Their styles were so different that every time Jack busted someone’s balls, he wondered what Antonio would have done or said. But even if he didn’t know exactly what his business partner would have done, he intended to show the board that he was every bit the powerful leader too. He knew how to manage business matters, just like he knew how to handle personal matters.
Including one involving a lush, beautiful brunette.
His mind drifted to Eva for the thousandth time that day. God, she’d been so damn sweet. That look on her face when she’d come, her hot pussy clenching around his fingers. Goddamn, she was tight, like she’d never been touched by a man, but so abandoned and shameless she’d rocked him to his core.
How could she do that? Be so innocent and yet mind-blowingly sexy at the same time?
He wanted her again. Right here. Right now. He wanted to push up her skirt and slide his cock into that tight pussy of hers. He was ready to go, his dick throbbing for her. If the feel of her around his fingers had torched his blood, just imagine what her sweet cunt on his cock would do to him.
But. She. Was. His. Partner’s. Sister. And now that he suspected Eva was more inexperienced than he’d assumed, things were more complicated. He had never been good with slow and easy. What if he scared her, or God forbid, hurt her without meaning to? He would never forgive himself.
He dragged his fingers through his hair before dropping his hand to the armrests of the leather chair Antonio had occupied only a few short months before. He could almost feel his friend’s spirit in the room, the heaviness of his disappointment. I trusted you, and now you’re fucking with my little sister. Touching her, taking her, and probably well on your way to breaking her good, kind heart.
“Jack?”
Jack swiveled back around. Christof was staring at him, all of them were, clearly expecting a response. And he had no fucking idea what order of business Christof was referring to. Plus, he had a hard-on.
A raging fucking hard-on.
Shit. He imagined them all naked. As horrible an image as that was, it did the trick.
He checked his Rolex—11:30— and stood abruptly before grabbing his phone. This meeting had gone on long enough. “I have an important call to make. You handle it,” he said gruffly, ignoring the wide-eyed shock of the executives seated around the table. “I trust you’ll be able to make the decision without me.”
