Power and Possession Read online

  Opening the car door, Rafe swung his legs aside and gave her ass a little pat as she eased past him and stepped out onto the pavement. “Don’t be gone long.”

  There was something in his tone—a casual, boundless authority. Nicole turned back. “Or?”

  He smiled and his voice shifted downward. “Or I’ll have to come up and get you.”

  He was way the hell too good-looking and so totally sexy, she didn’t even need that soft, killer tone of voice to make her turn into a damp, aching mess. Shutting her eyes, she let the sweet pleasure melt through her body for a fraction of a second before she hauled herself back to reality.

  He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything hotter. “You gonna make it?” His voice was whisper soft. “Maybe I should come with you.” Fuck you while you’re packing.

  She sucked in a breath. “Tempting,” she murmured, as if she could read his mind, as if they were both on the same supercharged, X-rated wavelength. “But better not. Sometimes staff is around.”

  “So?” Gently suggestive, a flash of heat in his amber eyes.

  “So I’m not looking for an audience right now.” But she shuddered a little as a quivering warmth coiled deep inside her.

  He grinned. “Come on back in. Simon won’t look.”

  “No.” His casualness helped. Made her less likely to fall into his arms like every other woman.

  “No?” he said very low, a small constraint in the word.

  “Are you offended?”

  A muscle briefly twitched in his lean cheek, then he grinned and said with teasing irony, “Fuck no. It’s just sex. I’ll catch you later.” His grin widened. “I’ll show you a good time whenever. Your call.”

  She laughed, back in control, not entirely sure he hadn’t helped her get there. “You make me so crazy hot, I’m in the mood for just about anything.”

  His smile lit up his eyes. “Now there’s incentive to up my game.”

  “Hold that thought, Contini.” She offered up a sexy wink, then swung around and moved, all fancy-assed grace and awesomeness, toward the front door.

  The doorman’s eyes looked like one of those cartoon character’s stunned by a gigantic hammer; he was opening the door in a slow-mo daze. Not that Rafe blamed the guy. Just watching Nicole’s sweet ass in her teeny, tiny flowered bikini sent all the blood in his brain south to his dick and he was seriously thinking: Screw the staff. Her bedroom door must have a lock.

  Just as he was about to push the intercom button and tell Simon he was going to be gone a while, his phone rang. Shit. He briefly considered the possibility of divine intervention or random bad luck or both. But he’d been waiting for this ring tone, so he took a breath of restraint and tapped the Answer bar.

  “Anatole and Bianca have been set ashore.” Carlos’s voice was professionally cool and composed. “I gave orders they weren’t to be allowed onboard again.”

  “Thanks. Appreciate it.” Carlos Sanz filled a variety of roles: personal attendant, lecturer, fixer. Ex–Basque separatist, ex–French Foreign Legion, ex-mercenary in lawless regions of the world, he’d been with Rafe a long time.

  “Not a problem. Jack and Miss Kelly also left for the airport in Nice. Jack said you might be gone a few weeks. I know you told me that, but just double-checking.”

  Rafe smiled. “Worried?”

  Carlos grunted. “Skeptical.”

  “I don’t blame you. I am too. But it is what it is.”

  “Your stepfather will want to know your plans. He called me when you didn’t answer. I told him you’ve gone ashore with one of your guests and might have turned off your phone for a few hours.”

  “Thanks. Whatever he needs can wait until tomorrow.” Anton had brought joy into his mother’s life, but if the term overprotective could be attributed to anyone it was his new stepfather. “If he calls you back, tell him as little as possible. Honestly, I’m not sure myself what my plans are.”

  “I’ll do my best. But—”

  “Do what you can.” Not that Rafe and his stepfather didn’t get along. In fact, Anton was a real asset to the company; his management skills were outstanding.

  “Keep me in the loop. I’ll text you if any emergencies come up. But make sure you answer your mother’s calls.”

  “I will. I might fly to Split for a few days. So far that’s all I know.”

  “Do you want me to vet this girl?”

  “Fuck no. No,” Rafe added more firmly. “Don’t even think it. She’s my new learning curve.”

  “If you say so.”

  That was too vague a reply. “I do, so chill.” Rafe exhaled. “At least for now. And if anyone asks, you don’t know her name. Although I expect you do.”

  “Of course.”

  Rafe chuckled. “The Mossad could only hope to have an intelligence service like yours.”

  “Your mother worries,” Carlos said simply.

  Rafe sighed. “I know.” He’d always been a target. For his wealth. For the Contini business that attracted industrial piracy. Because his father had introduced him into a vice-ridden, dangerous world. He didn’t blame his mother. But security had its down side on occasion.

  “Miss Parrish is a refreshing change,” Carlos acknowledged. “Enjoy yourself. Just don’t forget your obligations.”

  “Do I ever?”

  “Not to date, no.”

  “I’m not sure I like the insinuation I might. I won’t,” Rafe said brusquely. “But a word of warning: even if you find out Miss Parrish is a bigamist with six children and an empty bank account, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know yet. Clear?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Rafe slowly inhaled, held his breath for a tenuous second, exhaled, and said very softly, “It may not be a game this time, so I just want to play it out. Privately. In my own time.”

  “Got it. If you need anything though, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Rafe dropped his head back on the padded leather seat, stared at the ceiling, and spoke softly. “I know what I’m doing, Carlos. There’s no need for alarm. Two weeks, a month at the most, and life goes back to normal. I can almost guarantee it.”

  “I’m simply offering my help. I’m not questioning you. You’re not a capricious man.”

  “With a father like mine, I couldn’t be. Someone had to have their head screwed on straight.”

  “Right. One last business matter before you start fucking. Ganz tried to call you. I intercepted and called him back. He’s coming in next week. He said another attack from the same state-sponsored hacker is looming.”

  “Jesus, what’s that—the tenth, eleventh?”

  “Ganz said the twelfth.”

  Rafe sighed. “Okay, start bringing in the teams to my place here. Provided Ganz approves.”

  “Already on it.”

  “How about the police chief in Zurich? Is he doing his job?”

  “So far. Ganz and his mother are safe. No activity at your farm. The chief has set up round-the-clock surveillance shifts and not a ripple of activity anywhere. But your property is off the grid. It makes it harder to find.”

  “Thanks. You know how to get hold of me. Ah, here comes Miss Parrish,” Rafe said, pleased their business was more or less concluded, pleased as well that she’d put on a shirt that covered some of her nakedness. For some reason, he didn’t feel like sharing—the thought so shocking, he quickly dismissed it. It smacked of permanence, of something beyond the simple pleasures of this holiday, of feelings too intense, too inappropriate, for his life. “Has the house been cleared out?” he asked, returning to more ordinary considerations, watching Simon walk around the front of the car.

  “As of ten minutes ago. Roddrick had to be carried out,” Carlos said drily. “No surprise. But everyone’s been transferred to a hotel of their choice.”

  “Excellent. Ciao.” Rafe looked up as the door opened and smiled. “That was fast.”

  “I was in a hurry.” Nicole handed him her backpack.

  Taking it from h
er, he set it down and helped her into the car.

  Dropping down beside Rafe, she waited for Simon to shut the door, then leaned over and ran her hand over his fly. “No pressure,” she said, glancing up with a saucy grin, “but I needed to come—like an hour ago.”

  He laughed. “That’s the kind of pressure I like.” He touched her bottom lip with the pad of his finger. “Want one for the road? There’s time.”

  She hesitated.

  His erection surged higher.

  Then she shook her head. “You said you wanted to take your time. I do too.” She gently stroked his hard, rigid length with a brush of her hand. “I want to feel you in me and over me, slowly, deeply, your naked skin on mine, your heat and strength, everything you’ve got making me crazy for a very, very long time.” She looked up at him from under the soft curl of her lashes, cupped the head of his dick, and softly squeezed. “I’m selfish. So I want that first”—she smiled a big-eyed, dead-ten, fuck-me smile—“before you push me over the edge.”

  Chapter 6

  Rafe’s house up in the hills was a gross misrepresentation of the Renaissance-style peach-colored palace that came into view as the car topped the steep gated drive. An enormous four-story facade lay squarely before them at the very end of a lengthy row of boxwood-framed parterres ablaze with colorful flowers.

  “Seriously?” Nicole muttered, rolling her eyes at Rafe. “Your house?”

  “At the moment. It’s been in the family a long time. Actually, I prefer the carriage house. Does it matter to you?” Women were invited to parties at the main house; he understood its cachet.

  “So your friends hang out there?” She flicked a little wave in the direction of the palace.

  “Did. They’re gone now. So.” He smiled. “Where would you like to stay? Take your pick.”

  “Does the carriage house have a sea view?”

  “Both places do.”

  “Staff?”

  “At the main house.”

  “Do you cook?”

  “Not much. Scrambled eggs if I’m desperate.”

  “Can we get takeout?”

  Since there was an industrial-size kitchen at the main house with a chef and his team, the answer was simple. “Sure.”

  “Then I’m opting for the carriage house.” Nicole wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like people around.”

  Rafe grinned. “When you’re fucking.”

  “Particularly when I’m fucking. I hope that’s not a deal-breaker.” She sat up a little straighter as though instinctively adding emphasis to her comment. “Especially since I’ve been wanting to check you out,” she said, her voice a hushed purr, a warm twinkle in her blue gaze. “In terms of my personal fulfillment.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “So I’m to perform?” A small friction lay beneath the pleasantness of his tone.

  “Of course. Otherwise, what’s the point? I have a vibrator at home.” She smiled then, an irresistible, blatantly seductive smile. “I’d really prefer to see what you can do for me before I go home.”

  “Don’t worry, you won’t be going anywhere.” There was quiet rebuke in his voice, finality. “You’ve heard the saying—as long as I have breath in my body? I’m operating on that principle.”

  “Am I supposed to be alarmed?” She cocked her head slightly and looked straight at him. “I’m not.”

  Did she realize what she was saying to someone who flirted with the dark side of human nature? It took an act of will for him to not to take advantage of her. “I’ll try not to alarm you,” he said. “Ah, here we are.”

  The car came to a stop before a rusticated limestone building fronted with several large pots of topiary and draped in a tumble of climbing white roses and bougainvillea.

  Nicole shot Rafe a look. “Simon can’t hear us in here, can he? So did I even really have a choice?”

  He looked amused, her mutinous personality strangely attractive. “Don’t be so prickly. Simon just knows I usually stay here. But speak up if you’d rather go somewhere else. The South Pole for all I care, so long as I can fuck you.” He had his finger on the intercom button. “You want to give Simon directions? The airport’s not far. The Gulfstream’s gone but the 757’s there.”

  “Oh God.” She blew out a breath. “Sorry. I told you I could be difficult.”

  “Bossy, you mean,” he said, smiling.

  Instinctively responding to his male interpretation, she met his gaze with a faint frown. “I mean assertive. You know, like men are assertive, but women are bossy or stubborn or obstinate. That way. No offense, of course,” she added with a sudden grin.

  He held up his hands. “None taken. I can deal with any kind of assertive you’ve got, or, more precisely, I’m willing to deal with it because you’re making me crazy in a supernice way. Although, just out of curiosity—do you give orders in bed?” When she hesitated, he chuckled. “That’ll be a change. I’m guessing we’ll be flying blind.”

  A tip of her head. “Meaning?”

  “I like to give orders too.”

  His deep, husky voice triggered every needy, X-rated nerve in her body, the essence of his words settling with a shimmering jolt deep inside her, and with a soft gasp, she felt herself open in welcome as if he’d touched her where she most wanted to be touched.

  “Want to give it a try?” he said softly, watching her. “My orders first?” And without waiting, he lifted her into his lap and tapped the intercom. “Get the door, Simon. We’re staying here.” Then he slipped a finger under her bikini bottom, stroked her throbbing pussy, and whispered, “I guarantee happy endings. How soon do you want to come?”

  “Yesterday,” she said on a caught breath, damp and aching. “Last week, last year.”

  “So I should let you come quickly. Is that what you want now?”

  At the sudden edge to his voice, she looked up, accusation in the brilliant blue of her eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  His driver was almost back to the car door. “Do you want Simon to watch? Or are you going to wait?” He shrugged. “Your call.”

  She shoved his hand away. “Asshole. Maybe I’ll make you wait,” she hissed as the car door opened and then added under her breath, “Put me down.”

  “Just leave Miss Parrish’s backpack in the foyer, Simon.” Swinging his legs out of the car, Rafe rose to his feet smoothly, despite having Nicole in his arms. “And tell the kitchen we’re not sure when we’ll have dinner.” As his driver reached into the car, Rafe wondered if Nicole would make a scene, not sure what he’d do if she did. But she only stuck out her tongue.

  Seriously, soul mates; he disliked public drama too.

  Simon swiveled back up with Nicole’s pack in hand. “I’ll let the chef know the dinner hour is uncertain.” Tall and trim, with military-cut hair, a gold earring in one ear, and a bespoke linen jacket tailored to conceal his shoulder holster, the driver smiled. “Since you’re Henny’s go-to guy when he loses at the tables, he’ll overlook your nonschedule.”

  “I figure.” Rafe turned and moved toward the entrance. “You’ll be around?”

  Simon kept pace. “Where else.”

  “We might go to Split.”

  Simon’s smile flashed. “Excellent.” He had a girlfriend there.

  “No set itinerary yet. So it’s not for public consumption.”

  “Understood.” Simon lengthened his stride, reached the door first, and opened it.

  As Rafe walked through, he glanced back over his shoulder. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  Simon gave him a quick finger gun salute, mouthed the word enjoy, dropped the backpack on the marble floor, and softly shut the door.

  “Goddamn bloody tyrant,” Nicole grumbled the second they were alone. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to say, ‘Put me down’ now.”

  Rafe dropped a light kiss on her forehead and strode toward a curved stone staircase carpeted in a faded red-and-blue flame pattern. “Nope.”

  “So you’re calling all the sho
ts?”

  He gave her a quick grin. “Only until you’re not having fun.”

  “Maybe I’m not having fun.”

  “Give me a couple seconds. We just have to get upstairs.” And he took the remaining stairs two at a time with lithe, athletic ease.

  Nicole bashed him on the shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs. “Goddamn, Contini, all that flash and dazzle muscle and strength is a major turn-on.” She grinned. “I might have just come. Wanna do it again?”

  He gave her an impatient glance. “Fuck no.” He didn’t alter his swift stride down the wide hallway. “And FYI, baby, just watching you breathe is a turn-on for me. In fact, I’m not equipped to deal with this crazy, out-of-control need. I’m not sure how to play it.”

  “Just so long as I come in the next few minutes, play it any way you want. I won’t complain.”

  “But then you’re not giving the orders, are you?” he murmured, nudging a door open with his foot, entering a large bedroom with an incredible view of the sparkling Mediterranean, and heeling the door shut.

  “Ohmygod! I have to go see that! Put me down this second or—”

  His grip tightened. “Or?” A soft hint of warning in the word.

  She patted his cheek. “Save the Neanderthal shit, okay? I just want to stand on your balcony and drink in that fantastic scene. Come on, Mr. You’re-in-Charge. I’ll be ever so good. Just put me down.”

  He grinned. “You good? That I gotta see.” Setting her on her feet, he gently prodded her ass. “Go. I’ve seen it before.”

  Quickly discarding her shirt and dropping it as she ran, a moment later she stood on the wide balcony, her arms raised to the sky, like some acolyte to an ancient sun god.

  Motionless, Rafe took in the beauty of her celebratory pose, the supple grace of her body, the beguiling vision of exultation. He couldn’t help but smile. She was the human equivalent of delight, completely open and natural, frank about what she wanted. And she wanted him—not a rarity in his world—but rare in the pleasure it afforded him.

  He actually wanted to make her happy, like she did him. It was the most exhilarating feeling he’d ever had, quickly followed by more predictable alarm bells reminding him not to be gullible, delusional, or both. Furiously warning him that this might be an immense error.