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Thankfully, she bought my bullshit story about protecting her like a big brother. That’s the furthest thing from the truth. Even now, with her still upset, I can’t help staring at her in that tight little black dress and imagining her tied up and blindfolded in my bed.
Mentally, I shake my head. I have to stop letting my dick rule my thoughts. I’m not interested in relationships, and Kylie would never agree to a one-night stand or a mutually beneficial sexual partnership. Especially if I presented her with a non-disclosure agreement like I have with the other women.
I brought her here to help seal my real estate deal and that’s what I need to focus on. I need to keep things between us completely professional. No matter how much my dick wants otherwise.
“I will be out of town for the next few weeks,” I find myself saying, even though I hadn’t decided until this moment. But I have to put distance between us, and this seems the likeliest way. “You should have everything you need. Except food,” I add wryly. “But I’ll make sure that’s taken care of. Just give a list of what you need to my assistant. I’ll email you her information.”
“I can buy my own food,” Kylie argues, but I wave a dismissive hand.
“It’s part of the deal. You have a free place to stay, food, and all the supplies you need.”
She doesn’t argue. Instead, she falls silent and every part of me wishes she hadn’t.
Chapter Nineteen
KYLIE
It’s been a week since Dante left town, and my progress is coming along better than I even imagined. I guess it helps to have this huge studio space and no other distractions, although it does get a bit lonely now and then. I’m used to having Stella and Max around, coming and going throughout the day. But here, in this unfamiliar and opulent penthouse, it’s way too quiet and a bit depressing at times.
Even if I was excited to have no distractions.
Dante kept true to his word about food, but not in the way I expected. I made a grocery list and gave it to his assistant. I was expecting groceries to be delivered, but instead, Dante set it up so that I get fresh meals delivered daily. Apparently, the items I noted on my list helped his assistant to determine what kinds of food I’d be cooking because those are the kinds of meals I receive.
It actually saves me quite a bit of time. I don’t have to do the shopping or cooking for myself, which means I have more time to work. On the downside, it also means I don’t have a reason to take a break and step away from my work.
My cell phone dings, indicating I have a text message. Putting down my brush, I grab the phone and swipe to open it. A smile pulls at my mouth as I see Dante’s name. He’s been texting me regularly all week, and without that broody, intimidating nature of his, our brief conversations have been friendly. It seems so much easier and natural talking to him via text messaging.
Dante: How is everything going?
I rapidly type back a response.
Great. I’ve got one painting nearly complete and one about halfway there.
True, our conversations aren’t that thought-provoking or in-depth, but I have always found it hard to speak to him face-to-face. He intimidates me, and he always seems to do it in a way that leaves me utterly speechless—but also makes my heart race, my core ache, and my body beg to be close to him in a way I’ve never felt before. And though the texts between us the last few days have been nice, they haven’t done anything to ease the boredom and loneliness I feel.
As I clean up my workstation and get ready to take a shower, I realize it’s already Friday. The weekend is here and I have no plans. What I really need is a break. Not just from work, but from this huge penthouse as well. There’s no telling when Dante will return. I wonder if he really had to go out of town for business or if he is just giving me my space so I can work faster.
Maybe he’s not as impervious to me as he wants me to believe. When he told me I was staying here, I thought I wouldn’t be able to. I mean, he said he was rarely home since he’s always working, but I still thought I’d be in close proximity with him in the evenings. Instead, it feels more like he left town to avoid me. Though, I’m not sure why I’m bothered by that… I shouldn’t care.
But for some reason I do.
With a sigh, I take a quick shower, then grab a premade meal of lemon chicken and broccoli out of the refrigerator and warm it up in the microwave. Once the bell chimes letting me know my meal is ready, I take it and a glass of wine into the living room and sit on Dante’s gigantic black leather sectional couch. He’d probably have a meltdown if he saw me eating on his furniture, but he’s not here to yell at me, so I don’t care.
Since I’ve got this huge place all to myself… I glance at my phone on the couch beside me and smile. Setting my dinner plate on the coffee table, I grab my phone and call Stella.
She answers after the second ring. “Kylie! How’s it going, girl?”
I smile, feeling a little less lonely just hearing her happy voice. “Not bad, but I had a thought. If you and Max aren’t doing anything, why don’t you close up my studio for the weekend and come for a visit? Jersey isn’t too far from where I am so we can take a look at a few of the studio property options that you have been considering as backups.”
“What about Dante? Aren’t you staying at his place?” she asks. “He’s such a grouch, or so you’ve told me, I don’t want to get on his bad side by intruding in his space.”
Laughing, I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “He’s not even here. He’s been out of town pretty much the whole time I’ve been here.”
“Well, that’s pretty rude,” Stella chides. “What kind of person invites another to stay at their place and then takes off on them?”
“Dante does,” I answer glibly. “But honestly, I’m not complaining. This isn’t a personal visit. I’m here for work. However, since I’ve been working so hard I figured I earned a little fun.”
As much as I try to act like I’m not bothered, I am. Though, I don’t tell her that.
