It’s time she learned who she belongs to.
Yes, sir, Eliza texts back a minute later. I’ll send her up now.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lena
Butterflies swirl achingly around my belly as I walk through the house, past the intimidating walls and the looming suits of armor, toward the rear library.
Even though I took off my shoes when I entered the house, the idea that I’ll track mud everywhere grips me in fearful hands.
But then it doesn’t matter, not anymore.
Whatever I did to make Mr. DeLuca angry is about to come crashing down on my life with the force of a two ton hammer.
He summoned me specifically, and the look on Eliza’s face told me everything I needed to know. She drained of color and clamped onto her lower lip with her teeth like she was trying to chew it off.
I walk down the long corridor to the imposing oak carved door. Everything in this mansion is old and medieval and so gorgeous I swear I almost wept the first time my eyes skimmed over it. This is the first time I’ve been inside on my own, but Eliza was allowed to give me a short tour when I first started working for Mr. DeLuca, about a week ago now.
It’s only been a week, and yet I’ve already done something to trigger hate in Mr. DeLuca’s opinion of me.
And now he’s going to …
I can’t even let the thought finish.
I don’t know what he’s going to do.
The best thing I can hope for is that he fires me, which is going to be a disaster. I’ll be kicked out of my crummy apartment and forced to wander the streets like so many kids from the orphanage. I can’t go back, not now that I’m an adult. And, anyway, the idea of going back causes more razor winged nerves to flap around my belly.
I knock, hearing my anxiety in the uneven rapping of my knuckles.
“Come in,” Mr. DeLuca calls.
I push on the door, stunned by how heavy it is. It creaks open and whines softly and then I walk inside, my mouth falling open as awe riots through me. The library is cavernous, each wall a ceiling high bookshelf with wooden stairs going up and down it like scaffolding. The skylight lets in the afternoon sun and, in the corner, there’s a giant globe set within a gold frame that catches the sunlight and makes it wink at me.
Mr. DeLuca sits in the corner in a throne like seat, leaning back and regarding me with his predator’s eyes. He’s even manlier in his steel colored suit, the same strong shade as his hair. He leans back casually, hands on his knees, his eyes the only thing that move as he watches me cross the room.
“Uh, hello,” I mutter, knowing I sound goofy. I can’t help it. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Call me Lorenzo,” he says. “And sit down, Lena.”
I feel like my heart has just leaped up into my mouth as I take the chair opposite him, wriggling as my shorts cling sweaty to my legs. I fold my hands and try to stop the beating in my chest, but that just makes it hammer more.
“I can’t have you working for me anymore,” he mutters.
I nod fiercely. I can deal with this.
“Okay, sir. I understand. And I want you to know that I’ll never say anything about your house, not one word. If you just let me go, you never even have to see me again. I’ll disappear and you can …”
He chuckles, a deep sound like the rumbling of a thousand volcanoes.
“What’s funny?” I snap, sharper than I intended. I look at him to find his devilish’s lips twisted into a smirk that’s one hundred percent enjoyment.
“I’m not firing you, Lena.”
He stands up, towering over me so that I have to crane my neck to look up at him. Lust spikes through me and does crazy things to my insides. My lips tingle and I can’t help but imagine him pressing himself against me.
Calm down, I tell myself. Just focus on getting out of this in one piece.
“No?” I whisper.
“I’m claiming you,” he growls.
He reaches down and wraps his giant hands around mine, pulling me to my feet. I stumble forward, feeling my breasts brush up against his rock hard chest through the fabric of his suit. I gasp as he loops his arms around me, squeezing onto my hips and pulling me close to him with savage force.
Okay, so I passed out when I entered the library.
This is a dream. It has to be.
I’m lying on the floor and probably making weird passed out noises as Mr. DeLuca watches over me with disgust written across his chiseled face.
Because there’s no way my wildest dreams are catapulting into the real world like this, no frickin’ way.
But he feels real as he pulls me closer to him. I feel his heartbeat making the boulders of his pectoral muscles tremble. His hands are scalding hot as he presses into my lower back, his fingers spread over my skin and making every inch tingle sinfully.
“What?” I whisper, looking up at him. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re mine,” he growls, as though challenging anybody to tell him otherwise. “From the first time I saw you, I knew it. Your curves are the sort of heavenly prize I’d fight the rest of my life to claim. Your hips were made for bearing my children, bringing little Lorenzos and Lenas into this world. There’s nothing that will stop me from claiming you, Lena.”
He leans down, brushing a wayward strand of hair from my forehead.
“Do you feel the same?” he says, his face close to mine, his powerful body leaned over as though primed to tackle me into the wall. My sex throbs and inside me my womb is throwing a frickin’ party, fireworks sizzling sultry and gorgeously throughout me. “You don’t have to say yes just because I’m your employer. I’d never
