“Were you close to your sister?” His voice was pitched low. Gentle.

“Cella? Yes. I adored her. She raised me after our parents died. She didn’t have to—she was very young herself—but she insisted it wasn’t a burden.”

“Of course it wasn’t. There’s no way your sister saw you as a burden.” His voice was soft. Persuasive. But certain. As if because family wasn’t a burden to him he couldn’t conceive that it would be to anyone else.

He mesmerized her. Everything about him. She forced herself to look away and finish her coffee. She’d managed to eat a little of the eggs and potatoes, but she’d gone without eating too often to have much room in her stomach to eat large portions.

“After work, I’ll show you around the penthouse. It has quite a few rooms. I have a training room for martial arts, weapons and boxing. We also have a workout room with weights and various machines such as treadmills. You’re welcome to use either one, but we need to finish up if we’re going to get you to work on time.”

“I’m finished.”

“You didn’t eat much.”

She didn’t reply. She was learning from his tactics. He didn’t like to engage in arguments; well, two could play that game. She smiled at him and rose, placing her folded napkin beside her plate. “Breakfast was wonderful, thank you. I’ll go brush my teeth and be right out. Thanks for the toothbrush. It’s very much appreciated.”

He rose with her and watched her go back to her bedroom. She knew that he did because she felt his gaze burning into her. He was so . . . potent. Virile. Masculine. He took up the entire room with his broad shoulders and his presence. She found she couldn’t take a breath without drawing him into her lungs.

Francesca reminded herself that Stefano Ferraro was way out of her league in every way. He might be interested in her, she couldn’t deny the chemistry was off the charts, but their union would never last. He’d grow bored with her very fast. He was a white knight riding to the rescue, and if she didn’t need that anymore he would lose interest.

When she met him in the foyer, Stefano was wearing his coat. She had been certain he would have had it cleaned first. He stood with another long cashmere coat in his hands, waiting for her.

“You bought that as well?”

“Come on, bella. I told you, I can’t be late for this meeting.” He stepped close behind her, dipping the coat so she could slide her arm in one sleeve and then the other. He turned her around the moment the coat settled on her shoulders and slid the buttons into place.

“I can do that.”

“I know. I like to do it.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “The code for the private elevator allowing you into the penthouse will be in the phone I’m having sent to you. If you have a problem, text me right away. I’m already on the cell for you. You should have it within the hour.”

There was no point in protesting. She was being steamrolled, but she’d asked for it. Stefano was a force. One just got swept along when he decided something. They stepped onto the elevator together, Stefano crowding her closer than she believed necessary, although maybe it was the confined space that made her so acutely aware of him.

Her heart beat too hard. Her breasts ached, nipples pushing at the soft lace of her bra. Her sex pulsed, a persistent throb beating in tune to her racing heart. His long fingers curved around the nape of her neck, his thumb sweeping along her jaw.

“You’re so beautiful, Francesca,” he said softly. “And chemistry is a fuckin’ bitch. I promised myself I’d go slow with you, not scare you to death, but apparently that’s not happening.” He bent his head and took her mouth.

She shouldn’t have done it. She should have more restraint, but she couldn’t help herself; the moment his mouth brushed against hers, she parted her lips for him. Allowed his tongue to sweep inside and take her over. He kissed like he did everything else. With total confidence, with expertise. He started gentle and ended rough. The kiss was shocking in its intensity.

She felt possessed, taken, overwhelmed with sheer urgent need. Every cell in her body responded. She swore he poured molten lava down her throat and into her veins, where it moved through her, burning his name into her along the way to pool low and hot between her legs.

She’d never been kissed like that. She didn’t know anyone could kiss like that. Every nerve ending in her body sprang to life, on full alert. She couldn’t stop her hands from running up his chest to circle his neck, or her fingers from finding his hair. She gave herself to him, holding nothing back. Her mouth moved under his, following his lead, kissing him back while her body pressed tightly against his.