Read Taught by the Tycoon Online

Authors: Shelli Stevens

Taught by the Tycoon (4 page)

Again, he wondered what it would be like to slide across the seat and undo that braid. To unfasten the first few buttons on her blouse and slide his hand inside.

When they arrived at her apartment, he followed her from the car when she would’ve fled alone.

“Give me five minutes, Bradley,” he instructed his driver.

“There’s no need to walk me to the door,” Rachel said with a quick glance back at him.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?”

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “I don’t know, like every other guy in New York?”

She paused outside the door to the building. “I can manage from here, thank you.”

“What floor are you?”

“Fifth.” She typed in the code to get into the building.

He stepped in past her. “I could use the exercise after that dinner.”

She snorted. “You look like a body builder in a designer suit, you hardly need to worry about a few extra calories.”

He arched a brow and gestured for her to move past him.

“Not like grotesquely big muscles,” she rushed to say as she moved up the stairs. “Just, you know, all nicely defined and...
dammit
, how much wine did I have tonight?”

Letting loose a laugh of genuine amusement, he watched her gently rounded bottom ascend the stairs.

“Sometime I hate my mouth, so I’m just going to go ahead and shut it now,” she muttered, as she paused outside an apartment on the fifth floor. She gestured needlessly to the closed door. “This is me. My home.”

“Indeed.”

“You can go now.”

“Can I?”

She groaned. “I mean, thank you for seeing me safely to my apartment. I’m being absolutely horrendous with my manners tonight.”

“You’re fine,” he assured, and didn’t immediately leave, but instead stepped closer, halting her from unlocking her door. “About my offer at dinner. I have a gala tomorrow night and find myself without a date. We could begin a lesson immediately if you should decide to accept.”

She gawked at him, as if he’d invited her to another planet instead of a gala.

“Tomorrow.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “But I couldn’t—I mean, I don’t have anything dressy enough to wear. I’d need to see if I could borrow—”

“There’ll be no need for that.” Unable to stop himself, he reached up to tuck a strand of hair, which had escaped her braid, behind her ear.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“All you need to do is say yes, Rachel, and I’ll see that it’s taken care of.”

He needed her to say yes for more than one reason. She had no idea, but she’d actually be doing him a great favor by accompanying him. The idea had taken root while at dinner.

Her gaze searched his, and he could see the hesitation in her eyes. And the temptation.

And then she gave the tiniest of nods. “If you’re sure it wouldn’t be a bother. I wouldn’t mind tagging along to one of these things. Seeing if I can handle it.”

He gave a brief smile. “I don’t mind in the slightest. I’ll come around tomorrow to collect you.”

“Okay.” Her nod was stronger now, before she turned around to unlock her door.

“And Rachel?”

“Hmm?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“I actually quite like your mouth.”

 

I quite like your mouth
?

Groggy and half awake the next morning, Rachel lay in bed and stared at the ceiling of her apartment.

What on earth had those words meant?

It had been the oddest parting remark Damiano had ever left her with. Then again, everything about last night had been odd.

Damiano, her
boss
, had invited her to go along with him to a fancy gala. But it wasn’t a date. Right? Though, he’d sort of used the term.

She shook her head against the pillow and scowled. She was completely overthinking this. Of course it wasn’t an actual date, per say. He was simply being nice and helping her out. It was completely...not in his realm.

Damiano was a man who valued his time. Especially his time with the opposite sex. And without a doubt, she knew some other woman had gotten her date canceled tonight so Rachel could take her place.

The realization had her stomach flipping a bit and she hated that she had such a feminine reaction.

Even though she rarely let herself think about it, her mind drifted back to that night in Paris months ago...

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

“There’s a dinner tonight with several people from our Paris marketing team. I assume you’ll be joining us, Rachel?”

Rachel bit her lip as another round of chills rocked through her body. It had been a challenge to get through the last hour of meetings as it was.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take dinner in my room.” She attempted a smile as they stepped through the glass doors that led into the upscale hotel.

Damiano gave her a quick glance. “You’re quite sure? It’s not required, of course, but we enjoy your company.”

“I think I may be coming down with something,” she admitted. “I should probably nip it in the bud and rest tonight.”

“Of course. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need anything?”

Just a bed
, she thought tiredly.

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

When she arrived at her room a few minutes later, she was covered in a light sweat and trembling.

She unzipped her dress with fumbling fingers and pushed it off her body, before collapsing on the bed in just her bra and panties.

She had a fever, no doubt about it. There was no need for a thermometer to confirm the suspicion.

Despite knowing she should probably lie on top of the blankets, she was so cold that she climbed beneath the sheets and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. Maybe she was hungry, but the thought of moving one inch from this bed made every muscle in her body protest.

She closed her eyes and groaned softly. Paris was one of her favorite cities—especially for food—and now here she was, laid up in bed with some kind of illness.

Her cell phone buzzed and she opened her eyes briefly to stare across the room at where it remained in her purse. She would check who’d texted later. It was entirely too far away right now.

Her lashes fluttered down once more as she felt the heavy cloud of sleep pulling her under.

At one point there was another ringing, and she almost opened her eyes to acknowledge it, but by the time she’d summoned the energy it had stopped.

What finally woke her was the cool hand against her forehead. She struggled out of the thick sleep, and when her lashes fluttered open she found herself staring into Damiano’s concerned gaze.

“You have a fever.”

“So it seems.” Though she felt slightly better than she had when she’d first stumbled in here.

At some point she’d kicked off the comforter, and now was only covered by the thin sheet. She probably should’ve been more self-conscious about that, but she was technically still covered up, and it really would’ve been a waste of energy.

“I texted to check on you, and when you didn’t reply I came back early from dinner and had the front desk call you.” His brows were drawn together. “I was concerned when you didn’t answer and had an employee let me in your room.”

“And of course they did.” She gave a smile that had to be somewhat loopy. She certainly felt a little loopy. “Because you’re Damiano Mantovani, and nobody ever tells you no.”

Instead of looking offended or amused by her words, he just seemed more concerned.

“You really are quite sick.”

“It’s only a bug of sorts.” Her lashes drifted closed again when they became too heavy to keep open. “I just need to sleep.”

The fingers that touched her forehead again were gentle and comforting, but there was something else. It was as if every hair on her body lifted in awareness as he traced his fingers down and lightly over her cheek.

Her heart began a slow thud and she lifted her lashes again. Her gaze seemed to be drawn by a magnet to his. He looked almost startled as he glanced at his fingers against her cheek, and then he quickly withdrew his touch.

She must’ve imagined it, because a moment later he looked completely calm and collected as he reached behind him for a paper bag.

“I had the restaurant prepare you food. Coq au vin.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, she could faintly smell the French chicken dish, which was one of her favorites. Her stomach growled in appreciation.

“Thank you. That was very kind of you.” She wanted to sit up, but knew that would draw attention to how undressed she was beneath the sheet.

He seemed to realize it as well, because his gaze slid over her nearly naked shoulders, and he gave a brisk nod and stood.

“Now that I’ve ensured you are alive, I’ll leave you in peace with your food.”

Her glance slid to the clock. “You didn’t need to leave your dinner early.”

“It wasn’t an inconvenience, I promise.” He headed toward the door. “I’ll have the hotel send up something for your fever in a bit. Please, sleep as long as you must tomorrow.”

Her chilled body warred with a surprising liquid heat that ran through her veins as she watched his tall, dark frame disappear from her room.

For some reason her pulse seemed a bit faster, and her cheek still felt a little tingly from where he’d touched it.

Shaking her head, she wrote it off as low blood sugar and reached for the food...

 

The brief knock on her door snapped Rachel back from the memory of that night in Paris, and back to her small Brooklyn apartment.

“Come in.”

Knowing exactly who it would be, Rachel was ready with a smile when her roommate Lexi stepped into the room.

“Morning. Are we still on for yoga?” The petite blonde was decked out in workout clothes and staring down at her with her hands on her hips. She arched a brow. “I’m going to guess no, since your butt is still in bed, but maybe you’ll surprise me.”

“Yoga,” Rachel repeated blankly. “Oh my gosh, I completely spaced it, Lex. I’m sorry, it’s just... I’ve, um, made other plans.”

“That sounds ambiguous.” Lexi raised her brows. “Almost as ambiguous as the guy standing in our living room right now.”


What
?” Rachel lurched out of bed, grabbing her bathrobe and tugging it on. “He can’t be here yet. I didn’t even hear him knock.”

“To be fair, he only got in one good knock before I opened the door. I was putting on my shoes in the hallway.”

Heart quickening, Rachel moved past her roommate out of the room and down the hall. Sure enough, Damiano stood in their small living room, staring at the collage of photographs on the wall.

“You’re early,” she blurted.

He turned to face her, a tiny smile on his lips. “I said tomorrow.”

They hadn’t said an actual time, she realized, but it was not even ten in the morning.

“I haven’t showered.”

“So I see.” His gaze did a quick sweep from the top of her head down to her bare toes.

Warmth seemed to follow where his gaze touched, and the hairs on her body lifted. Then it hit her.

Oh dear god. She was actually standing in front of Damiano in her bathrobe, with complete bedhead, gawking at him like he was some tourist attraction.

“I’ve clearly caught you off guard, and for that I apologize.” He grimaced. “How about I’ll return in an hour with coffee and breakfast?”

She blinked, trying to form a response. It was as if they were switching places. Get her coffee? She usually brought
him
coffee.

“All right,” she agreed, tightening the belt of her robe around her waist.

His gaze slipped beyond her. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”

Rachel glanced behind her and grimaced. “No, you haven’t. So sorry. Damiano, this is my roommate and best friend Alexis. Alexis, this is Damiano Mantovani. My boss.”

That had to have sounded as weird as it felt, under the circumstances.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Mantovani.”

Damiano nodded and gave a brief smile. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Alexis. And now if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll see about finding some breakfast.”

A moment later he was gone and Rachel stared at the closed door with furrowed brows.

“So,” Alexis began conversationally. “Your boss is even hotter in person than he is on the gossip sites.”

“Isn’t he?” Rachel murmured and then blinked. “Wait, what? No. I mean, he’s my boss, I don’t even notice.” She glanced away. “I need to shower.”

“You’re flustered.”

That was an understatement. “I was in my bathrobe when my boss walked into my home, of course I’m flustered.”

“Sure that’s the only reason?”

“Don’t you have a yoga class to go to?” Rachel didn’t bother to hide her exasperation.

“Yes.” Lexi laughed and made her way to the door. “Which is the only reason I’m not demanding that you not fill me in on why
thee
sexy Damiano Mantovani showed up at our apartment on a Saturday morning.”

“I don’t find him sexy!” she yelled, but Lexi had already left.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel shook her head and hurried to the bathroom.

Of course Damiano was
sexy, she was just likely the only woman in the world trying hard not to notice.

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

After giving his driver the address of a popular bakery, Damiano leaned back against the plush leather seat and stared out at the passing streets of Brooklyn.

His mind was elsewhere though. Elsewhere being the apartment and his adorably disheveled and groggy P.A. Clearly she’d been shocked at his appearance, and he could admit now that he should’ve called first.

Being that Rachel had always been a morning person at work, he had imprudently assumed she’d be wide-awake and just as perky on a Saturday morning.

But she hadn’t been. Her hair had been mussy—not quite pinned up, but not quite down either. Her bright pink bathrobe had covered all of the body parts that had intrigued him more and more lately.

For a moment he’d imagined striding forward and untying the fuzzy belt and sliding the robe from her body. A foolish fantasy, to be certain, as her roommate had been present. That and Rachel would’ve likely swallowed her tongue in shock had he made such a sensual move.

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