Taught by the Tycoon Read online

  An aunt it seemed, when they were introduced moments later. They all moved into the dining room where a small crowd had gathered and was drinking freely and talking in rapid Italian. Rachel recognized a few words, but not enough to grasp any sort of conversation.

  She was introduced to family member after family member, maybe a dozen in all. And then a woman who’d been standing quietly in the corner stepped forward.

  Beside her, she felt Damiano still and utter a curse under his breath. Rachel took in the woman with curiosity. She was exceptionally beautiful with her sleek, caramel colored hair, large espresso eyes and petite, curvy body that was tucked into a tight black dress.

  Perhaps a bitchy cousin he couldn’t stand, Rachel thought hopefully.

  “Damiano.” The woman gave a slow smile and stepped forward, leaning forward so he could kiss her cheek.

  She said something in Italian, glanced at Rachel, and Damiano’s mouth tightened.

  “Rachel,” he said quietly, “May I introduce you to Maria, a long standing friend of the family.”

  Not family, but a friend of the family. And, if Rachel’s instincts were right, the woman Damiano’s mom wanted to set him up with.

  Rachel glanced over the woman again and gave a faint smile. Maria was not exactly the hideous troll she’d imagined.

  Feeling a little sick, Rachel murmured a greeting. Damiano’s arm slid about her waist and he pulled her close, and as much as she wanted to believe it was because he couldn’t keep his hands off her, she suspected this time it was really just for their current audience.

  Maria smiled at her, her expression barely hiding the derisiveness. “You are American, no?”

  “I am. Born and raised in Brooklyn. Still live there.”

  The other women didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “How fortunate for you.”

  So it seemed the hideous troll aspect of this woman wasn’t her appearance, but her personality.

  Before Rachel could reply though, Maria turned her attention back to Damiano and switched to speaking Italian in a move that was clearly meant to dismiss her.

  Rachel ground her teeth together and waited a moment, assuming Damiano would wrap up the discussion and excuse them. When he made no move to, her irritation grew.

  There was no way she would stand around and put up with this.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” was the only explanation she gave as she untangled herself from Damiano’s arm.

  She felt his questioning gaze on her as she made her way to the table of food. Seeing that others had helped themselves to small appetizer type bits, she took a small plate and proceeded to do the same.

  “She should not have invited her.”

  “Pardon?” Rachel glanced up at the deep voice and found Damiano’s cousin Armanno nearby.

  “My aunt.” He nodded toward Maria. “She is meddling and should not have invited that woman. I’m afraid she had her heart set on the two of them marrying, and has for years.”

  “Ah, I see.” It was nothing Damiano hadn’t warned her about. Still, as she placed food on her plate, she was tempted to take an olive and throw it at Maria.

  Holding back her inner eight-year-old, she instead settled on placing a slice of salami on her plate.

  “You have nothing to fear, though. Damiano has eyes for no one right now but you.”

  It was certainly the image she and Damiano had wanted to portray, but she didn’t believe it for a moment. What was a bit disconcerting was the realization that she wanted to believe it, though.

  Her heart lurched a little and she swallowed hard. She couldn’t fall for Damiano. Lusting after him was one thing, and far too late to stop, but anything more than that...she had to be careful.

  “Are you enjoying Italy?”

  “I adore it every time Damiano has business and I get to tag along.”

  Awareness flashed in his eyes. “That’s right, you were his assistant before his lover.”

  She stiffened. “I’m still his P.A. That has not changed.”

  “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Perhaps down the line if you two marry, then you can simply enjoy the new position as his wife and will have no need to work.”

  She half thought he was teasing, but realized he was quite serious as he stared down at her inquisitively.

  What kind of ass backwards, Stepford wife world did this man live in? She bit her tongue to hold back asking the question aloud.

  She’d gone to school and received a business degree. Working for Mantovani hadn’t been exactly her dream job, but it had worked out quite nicely. It certainly paid more than any job she would’ve had as an entry-level employee. But then Damiano paid her ludicrously. She very well may be one of the highest paid P.A.’s in New York City.

  “I enjoy what I do.” Was the only reply she managed.

  “Then that is a very good thing. Look at my cousin. He has never been the jealous sort, but now he is watching us and seems quiet displeased.” Armanno sounded amused by the fact.

  She couldn’t resist sneaking a glance Damiano’s way beneath her lashes. He was indeed watching her, and when their gazes locked, he said something to Maria and strode purposely toward her.

  Her stupid little heart leapt at the fact.

  Damiano hid a scowl as he made his way to Rachel. She’d struck up a conversation with his cousin Armanno, which could only lead to trouble.

  He arrived at her side and eased an arm around her waist, pulling her firmly against him, but more notably away from his cousin.

  “Sorry about that.” His lips brushed the soft skin at her temple. “Did you have time to miss me?”

  “Desperately. I had to turn to salami.” He could hardly miss the surprising innuendo with the naughty twinkle in her eyes and the seductive way she managed to put sliced meat in her mouth.

  Armanno gave a hearty, amused laugh and grinned down at her. “I like this one, Dami.”

  “I do too.” A little too much sometimes. He glanced up at his cousin, but kept his words for Rachel. “You must be careful with him, Dolcezza, he’s a charmer.”

  “Runs in la famiglia, cugino.”

  “Sí. I cannot argue with that.”

  Armanno sighed. “If you’ll excuse me, I must visit with my mother who will not stop glaring my way.”

  When he’d left and they were alone in their corner of the room, he glanced down at her.

  “I’m sorry about Maria. I did not know she would be here.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She didn’t sound as though it were fine, she sounded a little wary.

  Her voice lowered. “She’s very pretty. Why was it that you didn’t want to be set up with her again?”

  He knew he shouldn’t touch Rachel, even if he was supposed to be putting on an act for his family. They were all suitably convinced at this point. But he couldn’t resist stroking his thumb against her waist and then onto the small flare of her hip.

  He turned his head slightly, his lips brushing the curve of her ear. “Well, pretty women are hardly a novelty, she’s a bit of a bitch, and she reminds me of my mother. In other words, she does nothing for me.”

  He reveled at the shiver that ran through her and remembered zipping up her dress in the room. Dio, her pale, satiny skin had been temptation enough, but with the lacy red bra crossing her back and interrupting the image, all he could think about was tearing it off her. The dress. The bra. And doubtless tiny panties that he imagined matched.

  But he couldn’t do any of those things. Whatever affair he’d planned to have with Rachel was over before it had begun. Theo had reminded him of his loyalties. His honor. And the unspoken rule that you did not seduce your friend’s sister.

  After the affair, they would’ve had to return to normal at some point, and that might’ve been more of a problem than either had wanted to admit.

  “When do we leave for the lake?” Her words were low and husky, and his blood quickened in response.

  Perhaps the lake ho
use was a bad idea, but he’d already had their luggage stored in the car and made plans to leave after dinner.

  “Immediately after the party.” He both looked forward to it and dreaded it.

  Dinner sped by, with good food, family and easy conversation. Rachel charmed everyone she met, save for Maria who shot hostile glares her way. Fortunately he’d managed to keep him and Rachel at the opposite end of the table from her.

  When the evening was over, and they were being driven out of the city and toward Milan, it was nearing ten in the evening.

  “It will be quite late when we get there. The drive is nearly an hour and a half. You will likely be tired.”

  There was silence for a moment, as she stared out the window. They passed under a streetlight and he could see her reflection in the glass, the slight furrow between her eyes.

  “I slept well last night and am not the least bit sleepy yet.”

  His chest tightened and he closed his eyes briefly. Dio, she was not going to make this easy on him. He just needed to get through the rest of this week without touching her, and then things would return to normal. One day at a time.

  When they arrived at his home, the lights were on—as he’d requested his staff leave them—and the night was quiet.

  The family driver helped them carry their bags inside and then once again left. They were entirely alone.

  “Would you care for a snack? A drink?” He was compelled to offer her something. To stall.

  “I’m still full from dinner.” She bit her lip. “Actually, I am a little tired. Maybe heading to bed is a good thing?”

  Tension claimed his body, and he forced a nod. “Of course. Let me show you to your room.”

  There was no reason for them to share a room now, and the main reason why he’d brought her here—to make love—was now off the table.

  Surprise flickered across her face, but she didn’t say anything as she followed him wordlessly through the house. He gave her the guest room that overlooked the lake. It was spacious and furnished with a queen sized bed and a large plush couch.

  Her gaze slid to the couch and the bed, and something flickered in her eyes. Maybe irritation, but it quickly changed to contemplation.

  “I will leave you to your rest. Should you need anything, don’t hesitate to come find me or text me.”

  He turned to leave, and her words stopped him short.

  “I need you to unzip my dress.”

  Chapter 17

  Damiano’s muscles coiled and he closed his eyes, silently using a string of curses in his head.

  He’d barely survived zipping her into the dress in the first place, and now she wanted him to take it off her?

  With his jaw clenched, he turned around and gave a brief nod. Trying to keep his mind in a clinical mode as she gave him a grateful smile, before turning and presenting him with her back.

  He pushed her length of hair to the side to find the zipper. It was a struggle to resist threading his fingers into the silken locks and tugging her head back. To find the curve of her neck and press his lips against it.

  Instead he tugged the metal tab on the zipper down and her naked back came into view inch by tantalizing inch. So soft and pale, and then the sensual red bra peeked out.

  “I believe that is far enough, no?” he rasped, and couldn’t quite hide his irritation. But it was with himself, not with her, for wanting her so badly his unshakable control came into question.

  There was a pause, and he hoped he would be off the hook, and then, “Actually, it sticks a bit at the bottom. If you don’t mind undoing it completely?”

  Merda. She was killing him here.

  He ground his teeth together and continued to pull the zipper down to the bottom. The dress parted all the way, revealing the two strings of red slashed across her hips in some kind of minuscule panties. His cock strained against his suit trousers and the air hissed between his clenched teeth.

  “There you are.” The words cracked and he stepped away from her quickly. If he didn’t, he’d give into temptation and pull the dress off her and unwrap the lingerie from her body like a present.

  “Thank you.”

  Her husky reply was nearly his undoing. When she started to turn around, he spun on his heel and strode to the door. He needed to leave. Now. Before he embarrassed himself.

  “Goodnight,” he choked out. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rachel flinched at the slamming of her bedroom door. What on earth had just happened?

  She stared in dismay at the empty room that Damiano had been so quick to leave from.

  Why?

  Her stomach sank with disappointment, and her heart ached with what could only be a blatant rejection. Maybe she hadn’t outright said she’d capitulated and wanted to sleep with him tonight, but she hadn’t exactly played coy.

  Last night Damiano had vowed to have her in his bed, and today he was acting as if she had a disease.

  What had changed?

  Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she shimmied out of the dress and then took off the lingerie she’d so carefully picked out.

  She bypassed the sexy nightie she’d also purchased at the shop in Milan, and grabbed an oversized T-shirt instead. Clearly there would be no lovemaking this evening.

  After preparing for bed, she snagged her phone and climbed beneath the sheets.

  Drowsy with fatigue and disappointment, she opened her messages to find an unread one she’d missed from her brother.

  She winced as she read it. Of course he had completely freaked out when he’d seen the gossip about her and Damiano. She should’ve expected that and notified him of their ruse ahead of time.

  The message had been sent early this morning. Odd that he hadn’t followed up when she didn’t reply. Unless...

  She sat up in bed and bit her lip. Unless he’d called Damiano and they’d talked.

  It was all too easy to envision how that conversation would have gone. Disbelief, accusations, and likely some kind of warning.

  Was it possible Damiano was backing away from her because he’d spoken with Theo? Would he be so easily influenced?

  Even though it was late, she texted her brother back and asked if he’d spoken to Damiano.

  Almost immediately, Theo responded.

  Spoke with him this morning and he cleared everything up. Glad to hear the relationship is a pretense. I think he knows you’re off limits anyway. Talk to you soon, and we’ll have dinner when I’m in New York.

  The disappointment gripping her stomach switched to a slow burn of anger and disbelief. Theo had warned Damiano away, she didn’t doubt it for a moment. And Damiano, who never let anyone call the shots for him, had heeded the warning in respect of his and Theo’s long-standing friendship.

  She closed her eyes and sighed.

  This was, to be crude, complete bullshit.

  When she went down to breakfast in the morning, Damiano was seated at the table, dressed in his suit and tie, and eating breakfast.

  She knew his schedule had been cleared, but apparently he’d found something to fill it. Her lips thinned as she sat down at the modest, cozy kitchen table. The view was a bit less than modest, with the shimmering blue of Lake Como just beyond the glass.

  “Where are you off to?” She kept her tone light as she helped herself to a croissant from the variety of breads and fruit in the middle of the table.

  “I’ve a meeting in Milan, just before lunch.”

  One of his staff brought over a carafe of coffee and filled the mug beside her.

  “All right. If you can give me a half hour I can be ready to accompany you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and took a sip. “I’ll just need to change into something more suitable.”

  Though the khaki pants and sleeveless black top might be fine, she preferred something a bit more professional.

  Damiano set his mug down, dodging her gaze as he stood. “That won’t be necessary. I can attend this alone.”

 
He was officially avoiding her. Her lips twisted with a mix of amusement and irritation, but she kept her face turned away from him so he wouldn’t see any trace of it in her expression.

  “I feel as if I’m hardly working,” she protested.

  “You did not come to Italy to work. You came to pose in the role of my lover,” he paused, and his tone held an edge when he spoke again. “Also to learn lessons on dating a billionaire, no? Well here’s another lesson. You must learn to relax, Rachel.”

  He’d completely dropped the endearment Dolcezza and was back to calling her Rachel. Maybe she was wrong? Maybe he’d simply changed his mind about wanting her.

  Her heart pinched at another possibility. Maybe he’d decided he was interested in Maria after all. It wasn’t a farfetched deduction.

  “I have a beautiful pool overlooking the lake below. Go outside and sit in one of the lounge chairs. Read a book. Listen to music. Whatever you’d like.”

  “The pool. Of course.”

  “You have a suit to swim in?”

  “Yes.” She’d brought one from home, not really imagining she’d need it.

  Her phone beeped and she glanced down to see a text pop up. She opened the message from Lexi and read the details on a date her friend had gone on the other night. Lexi, never shy of giving too much information, went into detail by comparing her date’s jeans-restrained erection to having a python in his pants.

  “Blushing?”

  “Sorry?” She closed out of the text quickly and tried to hide her smile.

  “You’re blushing.” Damiano’s gaze narrowed on her, his expression cooling. “Lionelli again?”

  Lionelli? She barely thought about him anymore. The only man she wanted right now was standing in front of her, trying very hard to be immune to whatever charms she may or may not have.

  She opened her mouth, ready to explain it was her roommate, and then closed it again as she remembered one of his first lessons.

  Men love competition.

  Hmm. She gave a small shrug and slipped her phone back into her pocket. Instead of answering his question, she gave a languid smile. “You’re right. Maybe I should try and get used to this poolside lounging.”