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Tiero walks around the desk and takes my hand, pulling me towards him. “I’m certain you wouldn’t be the first woman on this desk. I dare say it has seen some action in its time. None of my forefathers were saints before they got married.”
If the desk could talk, what stories would it tell? Then sudden jealousy hits me. How many women has Tiero bent over this desk and taken from behind?
“Have you…?” The words die on my lips, and Tiero doesn’t say another word, just looks at me with an intensity that makes me forget how to breathe. All I can do is stare back, my heart galloping in my chest like a wayward mare.
His hands come up to my face, and he strokes my cheek. I’m sure he can feel my racing pulse against his palm. His eyes linger on mine, and it’s as if he’s trying to read something in them. What, I’m not sure. He lowers his head, and his lips take mine in a slow, sensual kiss we both get lost in.
My stomach grumbles again, and with a last peck on my lips, he pulls away and guides me to the door with his hand resting on my lower back. Something above the doorframe catches my attention. There, in bold black writing, it reads‘Omne Trium Perfectum’.
“What does that mean?” I point to the writing.
“It’s Latin and means‘every set of three is complete’. My father had it put up there to remember all of his children. He wanted it above the door because the desk faces it, and it’s in his direct line of sight.”
“That’s beautiful.” I stare at it for a moment, my dad’s words coming to mind to always remember the power of three.
“It’s incredibly thoughtful of your dad to include his daughter and remember her in this way. He loved you all very much,” I whisper, truly touched by the gesture. It seems like the De Marco men have a sentimental side beneath the untouchable exterior.
“He did. His family was the most important thing to him.”
As we leave Tiero’s office, I avoid looking at Maria. She couldn’t have missed what just went on in this office, given how long it has taken for us to re-emerge to go out for lunch.
Santino walks ahead to call the elevator, so it’s there when we reach it. As we walk down the corridor, people scurry out of our way and into their offices or cubicles, eying me curiously and Gualtiero with caution. He doesn’t spare a glance at any of them, but marches forward with purpose. It makes me wonder what sort of boss he is. At the sight of him, his employees hurry along, looking efficient and a little scared.
Marcelo is gone, but Alonso is here now and falls in step behind us. When we reach the elevator, we all step inside. Even though the elevator is spacious, I feel like a fairy surrounded by giants.
The SUV is already waiting for us as we leave the building, the back door open and ready to slide in. The car speeds off, followed by another car with more security, and our little procession soon arrives at a quaint-looking restaurant.
As the car comes to a stop, Tiero’s phone rings. He looks at the caller ID, and his eyes turn stone cold, the underlying fury and animosity palpable. It sends shivers through me. Thank goodness, I’m not at the receiving end of that anger.
I can’t help but wonder who is? What’s turning Tiero from hot to cold within milliseconds?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ella
We’refinishingdessertwhenTiero’s phone rings again. He ignores it, not even looking at it.
Our lunch date has been wonderful. Conversation is so easy with him—it flows as if we were long-lost friends. Tiero held my hand, stroking and caressing it with his skillful fingers, and we played footsies under the table where no one could see. I feel like a giddy teenager again, crushing on a boy.
The butterflies are there whenever I look at him. But the moment he touches me, they disappear like a rabbit in a magician’s hat, replaced by a current of high voltage electricity coursing through my veins. It erases anything in its way, leaving only lustful hunger in its wake.
It’s hard to believe he gave me an earth-shattering orgasm only an hour ago. Already, I’m primed and ready for round two.
What is this man doing to me? I’ve never felt so wanton in my life.
My feet find his calf again, and I slip my toes under his trousers and rub slowly up and down. It ignites a fire in Tiero’s eyes, and it’s clear he’s on board with my thinking.
Just when I’m about to suggest heading to the bathroom together, something I’ve never done before, his phone rings again. After a glance at the caller ID, Tiero’s eyes turn to stone. The warmth and comfort I saw in them only seconds ago is gone.
He answers the call, speaking curtly in Italian. I’m taken aback by his tone. I’ve never heard his voice so icy. It sends shivers down my spine.
He seems like a completely different person. Everything about him has changed—his demeanor is stiff, the tension in his body is obvious, and his voice is as frosty as a blizzard. Even the color of his eyes has darkened, making him appear more dangerous.
I stare at him in shock.
Remembering my presence, he glances at me and gets up, heading to the back of the restaurant to continue his conversation out of earshot.
Can he just use any backroom in any establishment he visits? Once again, I wonder who exactly Gualtiero De Marco is.
