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Well, she wasn’t contributing to the severity of his self-aggrandizing syndrome. And she wasn’t letting him keep on trying to break through her barriers.
“So since it’s clear you won’t give me what I came here for, I’ll leave you to your manipulation games with your new horde of worshipping followers. But do take this still. Consider it a souvenir.”
Pushing the envelope in his hand, she skirted him to retrieve her backpack. She rushed to the door, forcing herself not to take a last look at him, praying she’d make it out without stumbling. She was almost out when his rich voice had goose bumps storming all over her.
“What did you mean before when you said, ‘You’re you and I’m me’? What are we exactly?”
She waited until she was outside the door, safe enough to turn to him. Beholding his majesty for the last time, she suppressed a pang of regret and sighed.
“We’re two different species.”
* * *
Antonio watched Liliana Accardi disappear, battling the urge to hurtle after her, to drag her back, preferably thrown over his shoulder, swearing and scratching.
After he managed to get himself under control, he shook his head.
And he’d thought he’d already been beyond intrigued coming here. Now, after she’d defied him again, lambasted him as no one had ever dared to, then walked out on him like no one had done before, his condition had worsened exponentially.
He was hooked. For the first time in...ever.
All through this latest confrontation, he’d kept seeing himself capturing those lush lips, shoving her back onto that workstation she’d cleared, and having his way with her. All the way. Repeatedly.
He’d gotten hard the moment she’d walked in, and remained painfully so, even now. Even when he hadn’t guessed what her body looked like under those drab clothes she wore like a camouflage. For the first time physical attributes didn’t count to him. Coveting her essential self—something he’d never thought possible—took his arousal to a level he’d never experienced.
He stared down at the envelope she’d foisted on him. To think he’d set this up thinking she’d be just a conduit. A means to an end.
But it had taken her only one confrontation to derail his meticulous plan. Not only was she the only to ever outright challenge him, but when he’d added the extra pressure of personal interest, the point when other women would have buckled breathlessly, she’d become even more resistant.
Amazing.
She hadn’t even bothered considering his invitation. An invitation he’d never issued before, and that other women would kill for. She’d just scoffed it off and walked away. She would have done so without looking back if he hadn’t asked her another question. She’d stopped only long enough to give him her final verdict.
We’re two different species.
Shaking his head again, he headed back to her workstation, sat down in her chair. Though it was uncomfortable and creaky, it was the only place he wanted to be right now. It made him feel closer to her somehow. He’d take that comfort until he had the woman herself close once again.
If he even managed it.
That was another first. To be uncertain he could win someone over.
After a moment of grappling with this added complication, he tore open her resignation letter.
The wording was appropriate, yet it revealed her unbending spirit, that indomitable spark that fueled her unique persona. Yet with every letter, something tightened more behind his rib cage.
She was asking for far less than she deserved. Than the least contributor in this lab he’d acquired to be near her deserved.
He’d been right. This woman had no idea of her worth.
How had this happened? Why had she come to think this was her due? Who had made her feel worth so little?
Her life was an open book with very few lines, so there could be only two culprits. Her father was the foremost perpetrator. Knowing he’d let her grow up without caring to establish any relationship with her must have formed the early views of her self-worth. Her mother hadn’t been the epitome of parenthood, either. She’d been a severely dysfunctional woman who had no right to limit her daughter to her very questionable care. After Liliana’s early childhood, she’d become consumed in her work before falling prey to a debilitating mental disorder, repeating her husband’s abandonment, albeit in different ways.
It explained a lot about Liliana. Those abandoned as children grappled with not only trust issues, but with sometimes crippling feelings of worthlessness all their lives. He knew that all too well, having been a discarded child himself.
But he’d been lucky. Unbelievably, The Organization had been a better place for a child to grow up than the biological family Liliana had been unlucky enough to be born to.
That meant his approach today had been another miscalculation. He’d thought if he showed her that his interest had become personal, it would soften her. When it had only made her more adamant, he’d thought she’d been alarmed at how fast he was moving, because of his reputation as an indiscriminating female magnet, which he’d cultivated to serve his purposes.
