The Billionaire's Daughter (2 page)

Dante
was the son of one of her father’s dearest friends, Mario Giodarno, an old
fashioned Italian gentleman who had owned a small Italian restaurant. 
Dante loved the outdoors, was naturally athletic, and starting at a very early
age had worked on the grounds of the estate.

While
her father’s wealth gave her every material need she could ever want, she had
been a lonely little girl - until Dante came to work after school.  Oh how
she adored him.  She would run to wherever it was he was working as soon
as she saw him.  Many times he would tell her firmly that he didn’t have
time to play but she didn’t care.  On those occasions she would just hang
around and sometimes help him dig out weeds or plant new flowers.  It
didn’t matter.
 
She was hanging out
with him and that’s all she cared about.

Her
adoration through her teens did not fade, but he had left for college so she
only saw him during the summers.
 
And when she did her heart beat a little faster.
 
But try as she might to spend time with
him it was always just a quick hello and a chat for a few minutes, never
leading to anything more.  No dates - not even cups of
coffee.   

Now
he was here!  And coming into the house!

“I’ll
get the blanket from the closet,” she announced, taking the binoculars from
Cecil and following him out into the foyer. 

As
he disappeared out the front door she returned to the closet
and found the thick, plaid wool blanket her father had brought back from
Scotland.  It would be just the thing.  Placing it on the center
table ready to wrap around him as soon as he walked through the door, she
hurried back to her vantage point. They were close enough that she could see
Cecil was doing his best to help him, but the rain was starting and he was
dressed only in a red flannel shirt and blue jeans.
 
No jacket!  He’d be freezing and soaked by the time he
got inside. 

A
hot bath, she thought, and raced down the hallway to the largest guest suite on
the ground floor and into the expansive bathroom.  Turning on the faucets
she let the water flow on full so as to fill the tub quickly.  By the time
she returned to the foyer Dante and Cecil were staggering in through the door.

She
caught her breath.  It had been almost two years since she had last seen
him and he was more gorgeous than ever. His tousled, wet, jet black hair
was longer and fuller than she remembered.  His wide shoulders and square
jaw made him look as if he’d stepped off the pages of GQ.

But
the eyes.  The eyes were the same.  They had always been the same. A
sparkling, bright blue.  The same eyes that used to put her in her place
with a single, acute glance when she would get in his way as far back as she
could remember. Kate knew she was staring but couldn’t help herself, and
she could feel her nipples instinctively harden and brush against the soft wall
of her sweater.  She absently ran a hand over her hair and hurried forward
to help.

“Oh
my gosh!” she exclaimed, “Dante!  I can’t believe it’s you.  Are you
ok?” she asked.  “Oh my gosh,” she repeated, feeling foolish. 
“Should I call a doctor?  What can I do?  Here, put this blanket
around you.”

He
looked down at her as he took the blanket, and wrapping it around himself
he broke into a big smile.  She felt herself flush looking up at him
and wished she wasn't in her stocking feet.  At 6'2"
he was tall enough to tower over her.  It was making her feel edgy
and she was nervous enough thank you.

“Kate. 
Naughty Kate.  What a surprise. Thanks I’m fine.  Nothing life
threatening.  At least I don’t think so.  Still wearing that
crap around your eyes I see."   

 Cecil
excused himself, and pulling off his coat, left them as he returned it to the
closet.

  
 Naughty Kate.  Did he seriously
just call me that?  And my make -up?  What about my make-up?

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said defensively.  

But
she did. Kate had been wearing outlandish makeup since she had
started high school.
 
Thick
black eyeliner accompanied by heavy mascara, and deep, dark, red
lipstick.  When she fell out of college and decided to try the designer
schools, she changed the eyeliner to multi colored layers of eye shadow. 
The lipstick, however, had remained the same.  She knew it made her father
absolutely crazy but his displeasure had never been enough of a deterrent to
stop her.

“Anyway,
your ankle  - I mean - listen, I’ve got a hot bath running,” she
stammered, completely unnerved.  “Can you walk ok?”

“Sure,”
he replied, then glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cecil was out of
earshot, he whispered,  “I’d follow you into a hot bath any day!” 

Oh my gosh!  I wish you would!

Hoping
he couldn't read her thoughts she looked quickly away, but then decided she
needed a retort, and without thinking blurted out -

“Well 
-  you’d have to take a number,” and instantly regretted
it.  

Where did that come from.
 
What a stupid thing to
say!
 
Aaarggh! God knows what he must be thinking.
 

“Everything
alright, Dante?” Cecil asked, walking over to help him.

“It’s
perfectly alright,” Dante replied, “Our little treasure here is just asking
after my injury.”

Our little treasure
? 
Jeez!
 
Am I always going to
be just the boss’s daughter?

“I
am a treasure,” she quipped, trying to regain her ground, “and I’m glad you
realize that.”

“You
said something about a bath,” Cecil interjected.

“Yes
- in the large guest suite.  Follow me,” she said to Dante, still not
looking at him and truly grateful for Cecil’s interruption.

“I’ll
follow you anywhere princess,” Dante said, facetiously.  “Thanks Cecil, I
can hobble from here.”

“I’ll
find you some dry clothes and leave them outside the door,” Cecil offered, and
muttering to himself climbed the stairs towards the family quarters.

Kate
turned and walked down the hallway trying to appear in control.  It
wasn't easy keeping it together. Her heart was still beating much too
fast.
 
She could feel his eyes on
her as she walked forward and hoped and prayed he liked what he saw, but
overheard him chuckling.  Kate wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that
chuckle.
 
She looked over her
shoulder at him and an idea flashed in her head.
 
She decided to try a different tact.

“Are
you sure you can manage?  Need to lean on me?” she asked in a light
lilting voice, a sweet, kind, caring expression on her face.  “I feel so
bad that you’ve been hurt.”

“Just
keep walking, Princess” he said, a wry grin crossing his handsome face. 

It
didn’t help a bit.
 
His demeanor
didn’t change at all and she didn't feel any less unnerved.

When
they reached the bathroom they found it filled with steam.  Kate stepped
in, turned on the overhead fan and leaned over the large tub to turn off the
faucets.  Behind her Dante was unbuttoning his very wet, red checked
shirt, and smiled as he admired her full, round, pert bottom.  He was in
the final stages of peeling the soaked sleeves off his arms when Kate turned to
face him.  He flicked his eyes up, though he didn’t mind a bit if she’d
seen where his eyes had been cast.

He
was shirtless and it caught her off guard. His chest was smooth with a
smattering of curly black hair, and his washboard stomach and muscled arms were
evidence of his physical lifestyle.  Not even the jocks she’d dated looked
like him.  Too late she realized she was staring.

“From
climbing trees all day,” he said, winking at her.

She
felt a brand new crimson flush move across her face.

“Really!”
she exclaimed.  “And just why do you climb trees all day?” she replied,
thinking it witty comeback, though still feeling completely awkward.  It
didn’t help that he was so calculating and cool.  It was almost as if he
had some kind of deep, dark secret.

“I
climb trees for many reasons,” he answered calmly.  “Today was a favor for
your father.  One of them may have an issue with a certain kind of bug and
I’ve been meaning to get out here and check it for him.  Finally got
around to it.  Does that answer your question?”

“I
guess.  Seems a bit silly to be climbing trees when a storm is coming,”
she commented, thinking it was a very clever thing to say.
 
“I mean - really!
 
Crazy winds and you’re up a tree
looking for bugs?”

He
shook his head and sighed.

“You’re
very pretty,” he said, moving closer, ignoring her comment.  “But you’re
still the spoiled girl who caused all kinds of mischief.  I’ll bet that
hasn’t changed a bit.  I’ll bet you’re still getting yourself into all
kinds of trouble.”

He
was very close to her and she could smell him. An incredible combination
of a spicy cologne she couldn’t place, and wet hair.  It was intoxicating
and she was aware of the growing dampness between her legs.  She folded
her arms in a feeble attempt to hide her prominent stiffened nipples.

“I
thought you were working at some kind of fashion house downtown?  Been
fired?” he asked, a slightly mocking tone to his voice.

Kate
was aghast.  How could he have possibly known? 

“Why
are you being so mean?" she asked, hoping the accusation would
back him off.  "I’m trying to help you and all you can do is - is -
accuse me of stuff.”

Much
to her surprise and dismay he broke into a laugh.

“What’s
so funny?” she demanded.

“I
was right.  You’re still such a brat.  You’re gorgeous and you may be
older but you’re still a brat.  And I asked you before,” he said, suddenly
serious, “what’s all that crap around your eyes?”

“You
are positively impossible!” she spat at him, and attempted to push past him to
reach the door, but his hand shot out and clutched her elbow, spinning her
around.

“Going
somewhere?”

“What
are you doing?" she protested, shooting him an angry cold glare, though
the feel of his hand wrapped around her arm was turning her to jelly.

He
smiled down at her.

“How
dare I what?” he asked, his calm, deliberate manner fueling her ire.

“How
dare you - you --”

He
leaned his head in, very slightly. 

Oh my God, is he going to - to ?

Subconsciously
she licked her heavily lipsticked lips.  The dust devils in her stomach
were causing havoc and she felt powerless to move against the sure steady grip
of his hand.

“How
dare I do this?” he inquired, smoothly, bringing his free hand up to her
face.  She held her breath and began to close her eyes. 

Oh My God!  Finally!  Finally
after all these years... I can't believe it....

But
it wasn't his kiss she felt.  It was his thumb as it slid across her lips,
smudging the thick scarlet lipstick off her mouth.

“Wh
- what...” she wailed, her eyes flying open, stunned at unexpected the
turn of events. She tried to twist her head away but the hand holding her arm
shot up and clutched her hair.

“Hold
still!” he growled.  “My ankle is really hurting but this slutty lipstick
is bothering me more.”

“S-
s - stop!” she demanded.

“You
stop,” he barked at her.  “Honestly Kate you have always been so
difficult.” 

He
was wiping the lipstick from his thumb on to his jeans, his forceful hold
refusing her any release. 

“Well,
it may be smeared but at least it’s a start,” he said, staring at her mouth.

“Who
the hell do you think you are?” she yelled, hurt and frustrated, her quick
temper taking hold.  “I’ll wear whatever makeup I damn well please! 
Let me go!”

He
didn’t respond to her outburst, but fixed his gaze, his steely blue eyes
locking hers.  Panic was seizing her and the dust devils had joined
together to form an F1 tornado.  Abruptly his free hand grabbed the other
side of her head, pulling her face even closer to his.

Oh God!  

An
instant later his lips were against her lips, startlingly soft and
gentle.  In spite of her angry defiance she felt her body respond, and her
legs barely supported her as she was washed away in a tidal wave of
wanting.  His lips pressed harder, his tongue seeking out hers.  She
pressed against him, any vestige of resistance having totally melted away.
  
He was devouring her.  The
tornado raced through her belly, and when he pulled back she let out a series
of breathless gasps, and dropping her head into his shoulder she punched him
weakly.

“You
had no right to do that,” she protested breathlessly, speaking into his skin
and punching him again.