Emil When Dani disappears into the staff wing, my body still heats at the thought of the raw lust in her gaze when she walked in. I was half a second away from pinning her to the front door and showing her exactly what I’ve been dreaming of every morning for the past week. Then she stormed back in with fire in her eyes and new shoes held like swords, and I wanted her even more. But the most shocking part of our interaction this morning was the comments Dani made about my summer interns. I flip through the papers written by the best and brightest college students my recruiters have been able to find, wondering how much Dani is hiding from me. She said her knowledge came from another life. What does that mean? Not for the first time, I wonder about her. Was our meeting at the Summer Ball a setup? Am I falling into some elaborate trap set to ensnare me? I gulp down the rest of my coffee and put the cup in the dishwasher right beside hers, not wanting to be here when she comes back out. Regardless of what she did before or the unusual way we met, Dani is good at her job. She’s my children’s nanny. She works for me. My instinct tells me she’s not lying to me, that her past life is something she’d rather leave in the past. Being attracted to her is inappropriate. Touching her is inappropriate. Thinking of touching her is inappropriate. But... damn. When she stomped over to me with her head held high, wanting to throw those shoes back in my face, my cock went rock hard. And I mean rock hard. Thank fuck for the table that hid it from her. My lips tug at the thought. The fire in that woman’s eyes could melt the coldest heart. She’s not afraid of me—not afraid to tell me exactly what she thinks. The woman seems like she was crafted from my most private dreams. A woman who’s strong, smart, and sexy, who’s not afraid of me but who melts at my touch. She’s dangerous to the shields I’ve worked so hard to erect. I thought they were impregnable, but Dani seems to walk through my defenses like they never existed in the first place. By the time I’m dressed and ready for work, Kathryn has arrived and is humming in the kitchen. The kids are running around. Dani’s wearing her new clothes as she corrals the children toward the table for their breakfast, hip-hugging denim shorts and a loose rose-colored top. The part of me that craves to protect and provide growls in satisfaction at the sight. I like her wearing clothes I bought. The part that wants to own her body itches to push that top up over her breasts and put my mouth on her pretty pink nipples. “I’ll be out late tonight,” I tell no one in particular. “I have a dinner.” Dani’s eyes dart to mine, brows lowering for an instant before she clears emotion from her face. She nods. “Say goodbye to your dad, kids.” “Bye!” Talia says with her mouth full, her eyes never leaving her plate.
Francis just giggles, holding up a strawberry. Dani shrugs, giving me a rueful smile. “Enjoy your... date.” It’s not a date, and I almost correct her before I catch myself. Why would I clarify? Why would I care if she thinks I’m going on a date or not? I kiss both kids’ heads and walk out the door. Ten hours later, when Richard Gleeson sees me enter the restaurant on my own, his eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Dani not joining?” “No,” I respond without explanation. Tugging the chair across from him, I drop into it and smooth my hand over my silk tie. He nods, shrugging casually, but his eyes linger on mine for a moment too long. Why the hell does he care? We sit, drink, and eat, dancing around the real reason we’re here. Gleeson is the first to crack. He puts his glass of wine down and intertwines his fingers. “So,” he says, “I’m leaving tomorrow to head back to Arizona. I’ll be honest—I want to work with you. Together, we could make a lot of money.” It’s true. With his cutting-edge technology combined with the r eputation of Berg Motors, we could bring a truly new product to the market. A car that’s environmentally friendly, sleek, and affordable. Our research d epartment doesn’t have the millions required to develop a comparable engine, and Gleeson doesn’t have the infrastructure to manufacture the rest of the car. The deal makes sense. So why does my gut tell me to stall? I nod. “You need my company to take your engines to the market. I take it none of the other car companies you’ve courted have been as interested as Berg Motors?” Or as desperate. “They all have their own R&D teams. No interest in outside technologies. But you”—Richard spreads his palms toward me—“we could do big things. A Berg Motors vehicle with one of my engines in it would shake the industry to its foundations.” I swirl my wine, watching the blood-red liquid gleam in the low light of the restaurant. “It’s an interesting proposition.” Gleeson leans forward. “I know you need this, Emil.” I ke ep my face carefully blank. He’s right, in a way. A deal with Gleeson could be incredibly profitable. It would shake the last remnants of my father’s shadow and make sure everyone on the Berg board of directors knows I’m worthy of the position. Gleeson shrugs. “You inherited a behemoth from your father. Slightly outdated with a stellar r eputation, but Berg Motors could be so much more. It could be a leader in the industry. Think of what we could accomplish by working together. You can’t afford to develop this kind of engine on your own. You need me.” True, but I’m not going to tell him that. I let out a disinterested sigh. “Working together means putting my company’s name at someone else’s mercy. Can I trust you, Richard?”
“We’re ready to take this engine to the market.” Not quite what I asked, but I nod anyway. “And you can guarantee that your current engines pass all environmental certifications?” “Without a doubt.” Gleeson’s eyes are steel-hard. “I wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.” He lets out a sigh, putting his arm around his date’s shoulders. Not a sound comes out of her as she stares at me with big doe eyes, as if he’s just brought her along to let me see how pretty his girlfriend is. The truth is, I want this deal to work. Desperately. He’s right—my company could be so much better. I inherited this position from my father, and apart from my kids, it’s all I have. Profits are steady, but if we stagnate, we’ll be overtaken by our competitors. I want to lead this company, not just exist in it. I want Berg Motors to be known not only for reliability, but for fresh ideas. A brand-new design for an electric car using cutting-edge, environmentally friendly technology would fit the bill quite nicely, especially if the technology was already approved for commercial use. A smirk tugs at Gleeson’s lips as he arches his eyebrow. He knows I want this. “I’m interested,” I finally say with a curt nod. “Let’s get the lawyers to start hammering out the details. I’m touring our Ohio manufacturing plants in a couple of weeks. You should bring your engineering team. We can discuss preliminary logistics.” Gleeson’s smile turns predatory, and I wonder if I’ve just made a huge mistake. Walking in my front door, I expect to find a dark, quiet apartment. Dropping my keys in a bowl by the door, I loosen my tie, undo the top two buttons of my shirt, and kick off my shoes. My eyebrows arch when I walk forward and see Dani standing in the kitchen tinkering with one of Talia’s toys. She looks up when I walk in. “Hi.” “Late-night play session?” A flat stare is the only response I get, followed by a snort. “Talia accidentally ripped her favorite doll’s dress today and I told her I’d fix it.” She holds up a needle and thread. “You don’t have to do that.” I reach behind her to the wine rack. Every muscle in my body feels tired, worn. Holding out a glass, I arch my brows at Dani. She nods, and I take out another. When both glasses are poured, Dani ties a knot in the thread and cuts it, smoothing the doll’s dress down. “There. What do you think?” She twirls the doll for me before handing it over. When I speak, my fingers are still touching the navy fabric of the doll’s dress, my voice thick. “Good as new. Thank you. This was the last present Talia got from her mom before”—I clear my throat—“before she died. Talia must have been really upset about ripping it.” “There were tears,” Dani answers slowly, flicking her eyes up to mine with a wry smile. She touches her glass of wine to mine. “Cheers.” After I take a sip, I run my fingers over the tiny stitches. “You can barely see the rip.” “I’ve had a lot of practice patching clothes.” Dani grins and shakes her head, gold-rimmed eyes shining bright in the low light. “It’s not every day a billionaire buys me a whole new wardrobe.” She glances at me, a bald challenge in her eyes. She wants me to tell her I did it for her, to admit it wasn’t just a uniform.
I like challenges, especially when they come from her. My body thrums with anticipation. “Anything else you want me to get for you?” I arch a brow. “I like seeing you in clothes I bought.” Dani’s eyes flash. “Oh, so I can expand my uniform?” She narrows her eyes when I don’t react, then shrugs. “How about a pair of Manolo Blahnik Hangisi pumps?” She pauses, tapping her chin. “In pink.” I hide my grin behind the rim of my wine glass. My fingers touch the edge of her top, the sheer fabric hiding nothing of her deadly curves. “Is that all?” “Maybe some Cartier earrings. Oh, and a Dior Lady bag. The large one. In grey.” An angelic smile. “Want me to ke ep going?” “Baby, if you think you’re winning this battle, you’ve got a lot to learn about me.” I let my fingers trail over her cheek, feeling the soft silk of her skin beneath mine. I want more. “What else do you want, Dani?” “Are all billionaires as arrogant as you?” Her voice is husky, cheeks flushing a pretty shade of peach. She backs away, and I drop my hand from her cheek. We lean against opposite kitchen counters, sipping our drinks and avoiding each other’s gaze. I’m painfully aware of her. Of the way her fingers grip her glass. How her toes clench and relax every few seconds. How her legs look delectable in those shorts, and how every part of me wants to drop to my knees and run my tongue over every inch of exposed skin. “How was your date?” Dani’s voice is even. She stares at her glass of wine too intently to be casual. “It was... productive.” She grunts in response, taking a big swig of wine. I let my eyes roam up from her legs to her hips, the hollow of her waist, the swell of her breasts. Her body is so damn perfect. She’s not wearing a sparkly, low-cut dress, but she still looks like a goddess. I want her to look at me the way she did on Monday morning when I was wearing nothing but a pair of sweats. Like she was as hungry for me as I am for her. I want to know if every time she’s around me, she feels the way I do—that she’s a moment away from throwing away all the reasons we shouldn’t act and falling prey to her basest urges. I would. I’d do it in an instant. I’d fuck her on this kitchen counter, and I’m not sure I’d ever regret it. It takes an inhuman effort to get my pulse under control. “It was a business dinner, not a date, by the way.” Redness flushes over her cheekbones as Dani shrugs again. “Oh. Right. Well, it’s none of my business.” Not wanting to talk about work, the pressure of this business deal, or the triumphant gleam in Gleeson’s eye when he shook my hand after dinner, I jerk my head toward the sofa and grab the bottle of wine. “Sit with me.” Dani’s lips curl. “You love giving orders, don’t you?” But she doesn’t protest when we head across the room and drop onto the couch. Yes, I love giving orders—and I love it even more when beautiful, headstrong women obey them.