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“Listen, I know you’re a Grassi, but matters like this are still off limits.”
“You’re just like my fucking family!” she retorted angrily. “This is bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. My dad told me I was sharper than my two brothers, and if I wasn’t a girl he would have put me first in line to take over for him. Why are Italian men such chauvinist assholes? This is the twenty-first century! Women have equal rights, remember?”
Suddenly striding back to her, he sat on the edge of the bed, jerked her over his lap, and rained a flurry of fierce slaps on her naked backside.
“Ow, stop, stop!”
“You may be able to yell at your brothers and father that way, but not me,” he declared, moving his hard hand from cheek to cheek. “Not ever. Not about anything. I don’t tolerate temper tantrums.”
“Ow, okay, stop, I get it.”
“I didn’t hear an apology,” he scolded, landing a rapid volley of swats on her sit spot.
“Ow, ow, I’m sorry! Seriously! I am!”
Abruptly pulling her up, he bustled her on to her knees in front of him and cupped her chin.
“Look at me.”
Her face flaming as hot as her stinging backside, she breathlessly lifted her eyes.
“You know the rules. I’m in charge, period. If you don’t like something, you tell me about it with respect, no screaming and yelling. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. Tell me now.”
“I, uh, I don’t know what to say.”
Hearing the whispered words leave her lips, she knew them to be true, and she didn’t want to lose him, but years of frustration had joined forces with her hurt pride.
* * *
Staring down at the red-faced, breathless, gorgeous girl, Marco suffered a rare moment of doubt. Steph wasn’t a random submissive with whom he could scratch his itch. The two of them shared a rare connection, and his feelings for her were strong—and growing.
“Either this works for you or it doesn’t,” he continued, softening his voice. “I’m going to take a shower. You need to decide what you want. Stay kneeling as you are while I’m gone and think about it.”
“I don’t need to think about it. I want you, Marco,” she murmured, looking up at him with sad eyes. “I have for ages, but…”
“There is no but. You can’t have it both ways.”
“I don’t think you understand, or maybe I’m not explaining it right,” she added, not wanting to put the blame on him. “You’re in charge, I get that, of course I do, but is that any reason I can’t offer my opinion about things? Surely another perspective is a good thing, and you know I’ve been around the business since the day I was born. I’m not squeamish about stuff.”
“A different perspective can be helpful, but this relationship—if that’s what it is—has just begun. Growing up as a Grassi you must know it’s way too soon for me to discuss anything with you. You’re jumping the gun. If you’re willing to wait and let things take their course, great. If you don’t have the patience, I’ll understand. It’s up to you,” he finished, rising to his feet. “Stay like you are, and give me your answer when I come back.”
But as he entered the bathroom and stepping into the shower, he had second thoughts.
She and Max Steadman had been following the Zeppelins. It was possible one of them might have seen or heard something that could be helpful. The thought lingered as he soaped himself. Realizing he might have made a mistake, he moved from the stall and quickly dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabbed his robe off its hook and padded back into the bedroom.
“Here, put this on,” he said, helping her up and handing it to her. “Any thoughts?”
“Everything you said makes sense,” she replied, slipping into the thick, oversized robe and looking at him earnestly. “Even though we’ve known each other a long time, I’m new in your life, and I do understand. I shouldn’t have pried, and I’m sorry. Having said that,” she added, taking in a breath, “as time goes by, I would really like to be involved in what you do. I’m sure I could help, even if it’s just taking photos. I really am an excellent photographer. And, uh,” she added hesitantly, lowering her voice, “I’m sorry I got a bit crazy and yelled at you.”
“Apology accepted,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, “but you’d better not throw a fit like that again.”
“I’ll do my best. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me.”
“No kidding, but speaking of being a photographer, do you have any pictures of the Zeppelins I haven’t seen?”
“No, but Max probably does. I know he was keeping tabs on them, though he never told me why.”
“Thanks, I’ll speak with him again. By the way, where is his real office? I’ve only been in the fake one.”
