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He didn’t pause when he recognized my face, but there was a flash of surprise that moved across the surface of his eyes. He stopped near the couch like he was about to shake my hand, but he never extended the greeting. His blue eyes were even brighter than before, probably because of the sunlight coming through the large window. He was in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt, the kind of clothes that fit his frame beautifully.
He continued to stare, his eyes unblinking and his gaze intense. It was the same stare we’d shared across the room in quiet moments, an entire conversation passing between our expressions. Maybe he was thinking about our kiss in the bar. Maybe he was thinking about the way my ankle felt under his fingertips. Or maybe he was thinking of throwing me out of his house right then and there.
It didn’t feel right to say hello or ask how he was doing. It didn’t feel right to say anything at all. So I didn’t.
He moved to the other couch and sat down, slowly lowering his large build across from me. Without taking his eyes off me, he poured two glasses of scotch and took a sip from one.
It was so quiet in the room I could hear every little sound. I could hear the ice cube tap against the glass, the sound of the decanter as he returned it to the tray. I could hear the scotch swirl around his mouth, right over his tongue.
He set the glass down and looked at me again, his hands coming together between his knees. “Siena. Beautiful name.”
That was the last thing I expected him to say. “Thanks.”
“Are you from Siena?”
“No. I was born here.”
He grabbed my glass and handed it to me.
I accepted his offer and took a drink.
He watched every second of my movements, his eyes focused on my mouth and throat.
I returned the glass to the table and didn’t start discussing the job. There was a good possibility he wouldn’t want me in his home much longer. “Do you want me to leave?”
His pretty eyes were the only soft feature he possessed. The rest of him was hard and cold, like a man thawed from ice. He was impossible to read, his expression always stern. Whether he was that way intentionally or not was a mystery. “Why would I want you to leave?”
“Because I called you a pig.” There was no way the memory of that night wasn’t as fresh in his mind as it was in mine.
He tilted his head slightly. “I am a pig.”
I couldn’t stop the slight look of surprise from entering my face.
The corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile, but it happened so quickly I wasn’t sure if it really happened at all. “And I like being a pig.”
My smile didn’t mirror his, but I didn’t despise him like I did before. At least he was honest about who he was—even if he sprung it on you without warning. “Yeah, I can tell.” I grabbed my folder and clicked the end of my pen. “I can discuss my qualifications for the job, or you can ask me whatever you want to know.”
“Alright.” He brought his hands together, his fingers massaging his knuckles. “Was this what you were after the entire time?”
I held his gaze as my heart leaped into my throat. Scrutinized, I felt like a specimen under the microscope. It was a question I couldn’t dodge, and I had to answer it carefully. He knew I’d been following him. He knew I didn’t want to sleep with him. What other explanation did I have to give? It seemed to be a strange coincidence that I was there now—asking for a dream job.
When I didn’t answer, he pressed me again. “Answer me.”
“Your team reached out to me.”
“Too big of a coincidence.”
I still didn’t give an answer.
He continued to massage his knuckles. “I’ve got all day.”
Cato Marino was far too suspicious of a man to sneak by. If I didn’t admit to this, he would just keep digging until he found my purpose. And my real purpose was much worse than my fake purpose. That was something he couldn’t uncover. “Yes. I wanted this job. I wanted to study you to find out what kind of artwork you might like. I wanted to get to know you to understand your soul. That way, when I pitched myself to you, I would have more to offer than anyone else.”
He held my gaze and listened to every syllable coming out of my mouth. His reaction wasn’t obvious because he kept his intimate thoughts too close to his mind. “That’s dedication.”
“I take my job seriously.” Along with my father’s life.
“Very seriously, if you’re willing to sleep with a man for it.”
It was an insult that I deserved because that was exactly what I was doing. I didn’t want anything to do with this man. If our fates weren’t so intertwined, I never would have bothered. He was way too complicated for me. But I didn’t want him to perceive me that way, like I was really that ambitious. “That wasn’t the only reason I wanted to sleep with you.”
He watched me for a long time, his eyes hooked to mine without flinching. He didn’t seem pleased or annoyed by that response. Like I hadn’t said anything at all, he changed the subject. “It’s a big project. Hope you can handle it.”
“I can handle anything.”
He rose to his feet and left his scotch behind. It seemed like the conversation was over because he headed to the door. “Then you’re hired.”
7
Cato
Just like everyone else, she wanted something from me.
Most women wanted a good lay. Most women wanted the opportunity to make me fall in love with them. Most women wanted to get their hands on my money.
But no woman had ever wanted a job from me.
I should be annoyed with Siena, but in actuality, I was impressed. Just like me, when she wanted something, she went out and seized it. Most people wouldn’t have that kind of drive and patience. She did all her research before she finally made her move.
I’d done the same thing at the beginning of my career. I studied all my targets before I moved in. Tried to learn what they liked and didn’t like. From their religious beliefs down to their economic standpoints, I knew every little thing.
She’d been on my radar since the first time I’d spotted her, so I didn’t feel fooled by her ploy. My guard had always been up because it was a permanent fortress that surrounded my hard exterior. Maybe if she really had fooled me, I would be angry with her. But I couldn’t be angry with a woman who worked so hard to get what she wanted.
I didn’t know shit about the art industry, but I knew this was a multimillion-dollar project.
Anyone would kill for the opportunity.
If she were a man, anyone would call her ruthless and ambitious.
That was exactly how I saw her.
My Tuscan home was relatively new. I’d purchased it last summer and had the interior designer take care of all the changes I wanted. It was a long project, and now that it was completed, it needed the finishing touches. My home wasn’t just the residence where I spent my summers, but it was also the place where I invited my special clients and threw my cocktail parties. Having stunning pieces of art on the walls was an essential part of that experience. I wasn’t an art aficionado by any means, but I could appreciate it—to a certain degree.
Bates and I had just finished work in the main office when Giovanni stepped inside.
“Miss Siena is waiting for you in the drawing room, sir.” Instead of having him wear a butler’s outfit, I allowed him to dress casually like the rest of the staff. I only wore suits for special occasions, so I didn’t see why he needed to vacuum in three layers of clothing.
I gave him a slight wave in understanding.
Giovanni walked out.
Bates shut his laptop then stuffed it into his brown leather bag. “Who’s Siena?”
“The art buyer.” I stood up and finished the rest of my glass before I left it behind.
“Good. She’ll liven up the place.” Bates pulled the strap over his shoulder, a slight smile on his face. “Or at least your bedroom.”
I hadn’t told my brother about my previous experi
ence with her. “I don’t think I’ll get the honor.”
“Wow. Didn’t realize there was a woman out of your league.”
I walked him to the door. “I just think we have different preferences.” My cock needed two pussies every night, two mouths, and two assholes. Regardless of how stunning Siena was, I suspected a lay with her would be disappointing.
“Then that means she’s fair game.” Bates walked out and entered the entryway. The second we were out in the open, he stopped discussing her, knowing she might be able to hear our conversation.
Which was why I didn’t speak further on the matter.
Bates invited himself into the drawing room and found Siena sitting on the couch like last time, a glass of scotch in front of her. He turned to me, wore a smug smile, and then kept walking. “The art buyer.”
Siena turned around at the sound of his voice. She must have realized we were related because our features were so similar. Anyone with eyes could figure it out. She stood up and gave him an effortless smile, one that wasn’t genuine but still undeniably beautiful. Whether she was smiling or frowning, she still had the exact same appeal. It was something I’d noticed after watching her from across the room. “Hello.” She shook his hand. “You must be Bates. Pleasure to meet you.”
Bates reciprocated, but he had a sinister look in his eyes. It was the same expression he wore when we were out on the town. He liked what he saw and wanted more of it. His hand squeezed her wrist a little too long, and he took his time withdrawing. “The pleasure is mine.” He slid his hands into his pockets and continued to stare at her.
My brother and I were both predators, stalking our prey in the open. We’d shared women before, so he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if I were interested.
But I knew Siena would never go for that.
I gently clapped my brother on the back, silently excusing him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bates.”
“Alright.” He kept his gaze on Siena before finally turning away and walking out.
He shut the door behind himself, so it was just the two of us.
The second he was gone, Siena dropped her smile. She regarded me seriously, turning into the cold professional she’d been just a few days ago. Today, she was in a black pencil skirt that hugged her hourglass frame phenomenally and a white blouse. Pearls hung around her neck. She also wore pearl earrings. Her hair was pulled back like usual, showing the contours of her feminine face. I preferred it when women left their hair down, long and luscious around their shoulders. My fingers liked to grab on to something while I pinned a woman underneath me. But her elegant updo enticed me anyway. She commanded respect in her silence. It must have been her posture or her natural confidence. She’d turned me down and called me a pig, but I still found her fascinating.
My hands rested by my sides as I gazed into her face. Her tall stilettos still couldn’t make her match my height—not even close. But her poise made her confidence rival mine. Most women couldn’t tolerate my intensity. They fidgeted in place and looked visibly nervous, waiting for me to take the reins and guide them. But just as she’d warned, Siena seemed like a woman who could hold her own.
“Let’s get started, Mr. Marino.” She sat down and crossed her ankles, sitting like a princess wearing an invisible tiara.
I stared down at her, imagining her on her knees instead of her ass. “Cato is fine.” I lowered myself onto the couch across from her.
“I prefer Mr. Marino.” She opened her folder and examined her notes.
I liked the way she referred to me with respect, but I didn’t like the way she challenged me. “Cato.” When she referred to me by my surname, it seemed like she was just another person in the crowd. But when she said my first name, it was easy for me to imagine how differently that night would have gone if she hadn’t stormed out.
She lifted her gaze to meet mine, looking at me through the thickness of her lashes. Coy but confident, she was alluring.
Fuckable.
When I’d looked at her initially, I’d thought she was beautiful like most other women. Nothing too special about her. But her smartass mouth and strong opinions made her far more interesting than I’d anticipated.
She finally yielded to me. “Cato.”
Yes, I definitely liked the way she said my name.
“Is there a specific artist you like? A certain period you want me to explore? Perhaps each room or floor is different?”
“You’re the one who’s been studying me. You tell me.” What had she gleaned from me after studying me for so many weeks? She’d seen my home in Florence. She’d kissed me in a dark room. She’d even seen me near naked, seen the bed where my fantasies came true.
She held my gaze for several seconds, thinking of what her response would be. “I do have some ideas for you. But I think a tour of your home would give me a better idea of where everything should go. I brought my measuring tape. I hope you don’t mind if I make some notes.”
“No.”
She rose to her feet with the folder held to her chest. “I can have Giovanni show me around. I’m sure you’re busy.”
I did have other things to do. I had people to call, emails to write, but staying with her seemed more appealing than all of that. “I’m only busy when I want to be busy.” I led the way out of the room and back into the entryway.
She followed behind me with her pen and tape measure in hand. “I’ve been thinking about this room a lot since it’s the only one I’ve really seen. It’s the first thing guests see when they walk in the door, and you have so much space on this wall that the crown jewel should go here.” She walked to the left side of the room and looked at the blank wall over the staircase. “I can get a ladder and get the dimensions later.”
“Giovanni can help you with that.” I stood behind her with my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Instead of staring at the available wall with the same fascination she had, I tilted my eyes down to her ass. I never got to see her dress on the floor that night. The closest I got to getting her naked was slipping off one of her heels. Now that I was staring at her in the light of day, there was no denying just how sexy she was, from her long legs, perky ass, and those soft shoulders.
“Thanks.” She scribbled a few notes before she turned back to me. “I’m ready to see the next room whenever you are.”
My private office was on the third floor, along with my bedroom. I didn’t use it very often, and most of the time, I just used it to drink and gather my thoughts. It had a large fireplace, one almost as big as the enormous one in the entryway. On a winter night, the raging fire seemed to extinguish the bitterness in my thoughts.
I opened the door and allowed her to examine the mahogany wood of my desk. It was a beautiful, deep color, an example of fine Italian craftsmanship. There were two leather sofas near the fire along with a table. Cabinets were placed on either side of the fireplace, mostly full of booze. There was only a single window in this room right behind the desk. It didn’t have a great view like the other rooms in the house, but that was how I preferred it.
She took her time as she absorbed the mood of the room. “This room is different from all the others. At least, the other offices.”
I leaned against the fireplace and continued to study her, study her the way she studied my environment.
“It’s dark. Moody.”
“I’m a dark and moody man.” I’d always been that way since I was a boy. A therapist could blame it on my father’s abandonment, but I didn’t think that was the only culprit. Ever since I was born, I was a quiet child. During adolescence, I became even quieter, choosing my friends wisely and avoiding romance because it required too much talking. Bates and I were the same in that regard. That was probably why we got along so well.
“You don’t show this room to many people, right?” She turned back around to look at me, her green eyes complementing the wood of my desk and floor.
Bates had been in here a few times. Giovanni and the cleaners stopped by to keep
it tidy. Other than that, I seemed to be the only visitor. “No.”
“Then perhaps this room doesn’t need anything. It already has so much character.” She returned to me by the door, holding my gaze steadily. She gripped her folder and mastered her confidence even though I was standing right in front of her. Like a real soldier, she didn’t cower easily. Actually, she didn’t cower at all.
“Your call.”
I stared at the pearls encircling her throat and yearned to grip them hard. I wanted to yank her necklace free and shatter it, making the pearls drop to the floor with quiet thuds on impact. Then I wanted to smother that slender neck with my lips, kissing and sucking the flawless skin until it was bruised with my marks everywhere.
She waited patiently for an answer.
As if I hadn’t just experienced a vivid fantasy, I answered her. “Leave it as it is.” I left the office and guided her to the last room in my home—my bedroom. It took up half of the third floor, having an Alaskan king bed, a private living room, a balcony that overlooked the backyard, and a bathroom that was big enough for a gym.
It was the only time she’d slightly cowered on the tour. She stepped inside my room and looked at the bed for a long moment before she appraised the barren walls around it. The bed was custom-made and shipped across the pond. It was nine feet by nine feet, perfect for more than two guests at a time.
It was the exact reason I had it.
Siena must have pieced that information together, but she didn’t comment on it. She moved through the rooms and examined the other spots. She scribbled notes then came back to me. “You have a beautiful home, Cato. Decorating it should be no problem, especially when it’ll look amazing no matter what hangs on the walls.”
“Thank you.” I stood near the foot of the bed, reflecting on the last kiss we’d shared. We’d stepped off the elevator, and then my lips were on hers. I smothered her with hot kisses as I guided her back to the bed. I’d kissed a lot of women, but she was exceptional.
She’d said she didn’t want to sleep with me just for the job, and I believed her. If that were the case, she would have gone through with it—including Christina. But she was sincerely offended at the thought of sharing, and that drove her away.