I Want To Be Yours (2 page)

She’d called his mother.

Mari had never met her, but had spoken to her a few times over the phone. The woman knew how to get her four children to obey her.

Nico loved his mother and would do anything for her.

Mari was used to working with him and at least having a meal with him once a week. This was usually dinner after a long day of work. They used their time away from the office not just to appease their appetites, but to bounce ideas off each other. Although they worked closely with the other team members, their friendship and trust was something special. She found working with Nico challenging and always educational.

Why pretend?

She was disgusted by her obsession with her boss. She knew this was probably why she felt so tired—emotionally tired, depressed and out-of-sorts. Why she couldn’t think clearly and concentrate on the project at hand. And that had been happening more and more frequently.

He’d been her friend and confidant since she started with the company, right out of university five years before. Each day her admiration and awe of him grew. And there was plenty for her to admire. Many in the financial world respected Nico’s reputation as a born leader, a titan in the business world, and a brilliant strategist. Nico had made his first million by the time he was twenty-one years old and took over the reins of the company from his father at the age of twenty-eight. By then, he was already a well-respected figure in the business arena and turned a small, locally-owned family institution into an international conglomerate. In her eyes, there was no man greater than him.

Mari rolled her shoulders and continued tapping away at her keyboard, determined to complete the task at hand. Just as she achieved her goal, capturing the relevant data, she was interrupted by a loud crash.

Mari raised her head in surprise. All of the offices, except for Nico’s, had glass walls. The circular layout gave her an unobstructed view of all the other offices. No one had crossed the floor from the elevators in more than two hours. The only other entry point was Nico’s private elevator, inside his office.

There shouldn’t be anyone on this floor at this hour of the night. The cleaning crew had been in and left hours ago. However, somewhere on the executive floor, the muffled explosive sound of glass shattering, followed by an eruption of masculine expletives could be heard. Mari quickly got up and raced into the hallway. A light was on in Nico’s office, visible from beneath the door. She stood for a moment in front of the closed door, undecided.

Should I call security?

Mari could hear some indistinguishable muttering and another crash.

She quietly opened the door without knocking. She gasped, surprised to find Nico standing with his back to the door, facing the double-paneled windows overlooking the wharf.

Nico didn’t turn around. Still as a statue, he only moved to lift the vodka bottle to his lips.

There was shattered glass scattered on the floor and on the countertop of the bar in the corner of the office. It was evident a few beverage glasses had been thrown against the wall. The office smelled like a distillery.

What’s going on?

Nico was supposed to be at his family’s estate in Kent in the English countryside for much needed R&R. The estate had been a part of the Darian holdings for centuries, and was where their initial wealth and enterprise had begun—the Darian Castle Vineyard. Nico’s brother, two sisters, and their spouses operated the winery. His parents currently lived in the modernized castle, and his siblings lived with their spouses and children in manors on the massive property. The estate stretched on hundreds of acres of land and was equally divided among the siblings. Nico was the only member of the family who lived in London.

“Out!” Nico said with quiet authority. His back remained to her, his muscles tight underneath his expensive shirt.

Mari was about to comply, but stopped as he took another large swig of vodka from the bottle in his hand. She was terrified of this Nico; that alone gave her pause, as she had never been afraid of or intimidated by him.

“Why are you still here?” He muttered, clearly irritated.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Mari asked as she slowly moved farther into his office. Her question fell like a stone in the silent room. He didn’t turn or respond.

He was a big guy, at six feet four inches tall and over two hundred pounds of pure muscle.

Nico was an extremely beautiful man, with an olive complexion inherited from his Italian mother, as well as the rakish blue-black, slightly curling hair, which reached his collar in the back. An unruly lock in the front tended to fall across his right eye when agitated, or when he moved suddenly. He had a straight, sharp nose. His silver blue eyes were fringed with overlong lashes most women would envy, and his lips were deliciously full and too sexy, Mari often thought. Of course, he’d inherited his frame from his very English father, which he kept firm and chiseled with an exercise regimen that was as brutal and consistent as the dawning of a new day. He ran a few miles every day, and participated in martial arts training several times a week with his two faithful bodyguards. Arrogant authority was evident in his rugged, square jaw line and the commanding width of his broad shoulders.

His thick hair was tousled and the dress shirt he had obviously worn all day was wrinkled and hanging out of his dark grey slacks. Despite his disheveled appearance, he exuded an aura of masculine elegance.

Mari had never seen him this unkempt and out of control. He was her tough-as-nails boss, who let nothing ruffle his emotions. She had witnessed him in many tense, volatile situations, and he’d never unraveled under any applied pressure.

“Leave.” His voice seemed tired as he turned to face her.

His blue eyes were more hostile than she had ever seen them, the silver dominant and pronounced. Mari was stunned by the cold, cynical stare directed at her. She was sure the dark anger in those eyes couldn’t have been intended for her. And he’d never spoken to her in that voice! His appearance definitely indicated something had gone seriously wrong. There was no question of her staying and helping him. He’d always been there for her—kind, extremely patient, and encouraging. He was her friend.

“Nico, I can’t leave you like this. What’s going on? Please talk to me.”

He stared at her intently before taking another swig from the bottle.

“Why? Are you going to kiss me and make it better?” Nico asked conversationally.

“Ah… no, but I can listen?”

“You need to leave now,” he said again, impatiently.

Mari didn’t move a muscle or utter a sound. She simply waited.

“I shouldn’t have come in here.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. He turned again to gaze out of the window. “Why don’t you get the hell out of here? I can only take so much of your come-fuck-me looks. Leave before I take what you’ve been offering me for years.”

Mari gasped in abject horror, stunned by the quiet menace in his voice.

Chapter Two

His use of
raw, explicit language was deliberate. Nico wanted to shock her into leaving. Her luscious rosebud lips were slightly parted as she gazed at him with those beseeching brown eyes.

By morning, the disaster that was his marriage would be emblazoned across the front page of every tabloid in London, not to mention internationally. Celina’s supermodel status certainly guaranteed that her infidelity would be front page news for the next few weeks. He didn’t give a damn, other than how this would hurt his family—his parents and siblings didn’t deserve this.

Such a fucking mess!

Too late, he’d realized his mistake in coming to the office. His emotions were too savage to appreciate her soothing presence. He could so easily hurt her. He wanted to hurt her, hurt someone. Dark rage ate at him. He had no control.

The nerve of that bitch to bring that fucker to my house, my bed! I should have put a bullet in his ass!

He turned again and looked at her, gorging on the vision she presented and inhaling her tantalizing scent. He just wanted to bury himself into her again and again to forget the distasteful images of earlier that day. He groaned in frustration and ran his hands roughly through his hair in agitation.

Nico continued gazing at her and took another gulp of the vodka. Mari’s mixed race was evident in her creamy brown complexion, just a few shades darker than his own olive skin tone. He was enthralled with its healthy, youthful hue. Her long, ink-black hair, which she kept in a tight bun in the office, would fall to her lower back once uncoiled. He had seen her once, on one of their business trips, with it loose and majestic at the resort’s pool area. It was a sight that neither he, nor, he suspected, the other guys, would ever forget. Clad in a tiny, white bikini, with those glossy tresses caressing her back… he’d almost swallowed his tongue at her amazingly tantalizing body.

She stood before him now in her armor, her usual uniform of an all-black pencil skirt suit that molded her curvy hips, with a short classic-cut black jacket and a crisp white silk blouse discreetly unbuttoned at the top. A single, long strand of white pearls graced her neck with matching pearl earrings and a simple white gold watch completing her jewelry.

He knew she wasn’t trying to be provocative, but the strict severity of the outfit was incredibly sexy on her. At five feet nine, the suit couldn’t hide the generous fullness of her breasts, her round apple-shaped bottom, and her long toned legs.

Mari hesitated. Nico was only trying to shock her. Never at any time had he expressed a romantic interest in her. Men like Nico always had glamorous, beautiful women at their disposal. No need to go slumming. And with a wife as stunning as Celina, there was no need for him to even look in her direction. Mari didn’t kid herself into thinking she could compete with a supermodel like Celina. And she was absolutely positive he’d never dated a woman of color. She was definitely not his type.

He’d treated her like a little sister. A friend or confidante, never anything more. She would’ve noticed if he had. After all, she’d wait endlessly for any sign, any encouragement, a glimmer of hope; none ever came.

“Nico, talk to me, please. What happened? I’ve never…” Her voice trailed off as Nico moved swiftly, stalking toward her, and pinned her with an even colder glare, as if he was looking straight through her.

Mari retreated with her hands up to ward him off.

Nico stilled a few inches in front of her, not moving a muscle, watching her in menacing silence. Mari tried to reach him again.

“Nico, you know I care a lot about you. But you’re scaring the crap out of me right now. What’s going on? Is it your father?” She made her voice gentle, as if she were trying to soothe a wild beast.

No response. He looked so cold. His eyes were pure ice. He started to advance slowly, stalking.

“Dude, you really need to back the hell up,” Mari muttered. His predatory actions were beginning to terrify her. “Is it Celina?” she continued, stumbling over her words. “Is she all right?”

“That skanky bitch is fine. But you, on the other hand…” He moved so swiftly. He held her by her wrists and bodily backed her against the closed door her.

She shrieked in surprise.

“What are you doing?” His gaze was unwavering, no softness visible in those cold blue orbs. “Nico, you don’t want to do this,” she warned, astonished as he crushed her to his big, hard body. This was her no-nonsense boss, and friend. He not only had a reputation of never fraternizing with the staff, he actively discouraged office romances.

He swooped down and seized her stunned lips in an angry kiss.

Mari was shocked into immobility. The bitter taste of vodka on his lips was initially overwhelming. He held her in an unyielding grip; the kiss was rough and forceful, just taking, punishing and devouring her lips.

Mari lightly touched his face, softly caressed his hot skin, and gently, hesitantly kissed him back, trying to calm him. She waited patiently for him to emerge from that cold, angry place he seemed to be in. This was what she’d always wanted, always hoped for, but not quite like this.

He slowly responded to her soothing touch. He pulled his lips from hers, not moving away. With his forehead against hers, he stared quietly into her eyes.

“Forgive me.” His whispered entreaty came as he softly nipped at her bottom lip.

She whimpered in response.

He then covered her mouth with his forceful, ravenous kiss. The kiss eased, becoming more sensual and heated. He probed her mouth with his tongue and groaned appreciatively as she returned his caress. The thick timbre of his growl sent shivers of blossoming need deep in her stomach and pelvis. It was pure heaven to her senses as she tasted
him
, not the alcohol. She trembled violently, clutching him tighter to her, trying desperately to get closer to his solid form. Bombarded with too many emotions, tears leaked from her eyes as passion raged throughout her frame.

Mari felt lost in him. All rational thought deserted her as she reveled in his touch and the rock-hard feel of him against her agonizingly sensitized body. She held him tighter, returning his kiss, and humming in delight at the piercing assault on her senses. Nico’s hands feverishly roamed up and down her body, settling on her hips, pulling her tight against him.

“You wear too many damn clothes,” he swore impatiently. With amazing dexterity in the face of such urgency, he swiftly unbuttoned her silk blouse, never once releasing her lips. The kiss deepened as his fingers crushed her bra-clad breast.

She moaned deep in her throat, writhing against him, frantic for his touch on her sensitive skin.

Nico unclasped her lacy bra. Mari was almost mindless with anticipation. He stepped away slightly to glimpse what he’d uncovered. Her dark brown tinted tips tightened even further, and her skin dampened and became flushed with excitement under his scrutiny.

Upon the first brush of his fingertip over one engrossed nipple, Mari trembled and couldn’t suppress her moans of encouragement. He gazed at her breasts with total fascination, cupping and squeezing them, lightly glazing the peaks repeatedly and then deliberately plucking at them.

“These are fucking perfect!” he rasped and finally took an engorged bud deep into his mouth, sucking strongly. “So sweet, sweet like ripe berries.”

Mari had never known sexual need like this could exist. His erotic exploration made her whimper loudly as the shimmering embers of desire ignited deep within her.

This couldn’t possibly be happening to her, with him! If she was dreaming, Mari hoped never to wake.

She began anxiously unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to touch his hot skin. Soon her questing hands made contact with the smooth, hard contours of his chest and stomach. He shuddered beneath her touch. She blindly sought his mouth, loving his taste and the feel of him under her fingertips, thoroughly enjoying his masculine hand roving up her thighs and across her belly, and overwhelmed by the effect of their kisses. She was consumed by an inexplicable craving for his possession, desperate with lust to be claimed by him.

Being in love with her boss and friend was so cliché, but she couldn’t seem to get over it. No one could possibly measure up to him, and after this encounter she knew she’d be even more enamored, completely under his spell. His touch, taste, and breathtaking beauty had ignited her passion beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

But he was also married!

What the hell am I doing?

Mari forcefully pulled away from him. Her body immediately rebelled against the sudden separation.

“What the fuck?” His eyes were clouded with desire as he reached for her again, but she quickly stepped out of his range.

“I can’t! I’m sorry!” Her voice was halting and husky with suppressed emotion.

I have to get out of here!

She spun around and opened the door, but then inexplicably stilled in the doorway. Sensing Nico’s distress, she turned and looked back at him.

He hadn’t moved. His shirt, unbuttoned, hung out of his pants, his belt buckle undone. His gaze was unfocused and his skin flushed. He looked shattered.

Damn!
She couldn’t leave him like this. He was her best friend and he needed her.

“Nico, what’s going on? Please help me understand why you’re acting like this.”

The sound of their harsh breathing was loud in the otherwise silent, emotionally charged room.

She couldn’t believe how calm and in control her voice seemed, when inside she was a mess. The fact that she could string a few sentences together was a miracle. Her clothes were still in disarray, so she started to fasten her unclasped bra. Impatiently clamping down on any self-analysis, she refocused her attention to the matter at hand. She would think about how she felt later. Nico needed her more.

He needed her now.

Nico groaned with frustration. She would run out of there screaming if she had an inkling of his dark destructive emotions.

To bemoan and complain about failure wasn’t in his nature. He never talked about his feelings or his personal life, not with anyone. Being the oldest, his family always looked to him for guidance, expected his counsel and leadership. He’d been head of the family since his father had retired ten years ago, and his parents deferred all decision-making to him.

“I don’t want to talk. I just showed you what I want. Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Glaring at him in agitation, she answered him flippantly. “Since you asked so nicely, I don’t think so.”

He moodily turned and picked up the bottle of vodka from his desk where he’d left it. Tipping his head back, he gulped a healthy dose while walking slowly to his chair behind the desk. Nico welcomed the bitter burn of the beverage down his throat even as he acknowledged his inexcusable behavior with Mari. He should have his ass kicked for what he’d just done to his young friend and employee.

Feeling more despondent and older than he had ever felt in his life, he contemplated how much he should tell her. He slumped inelegantly in the chair.
I’m going to hell anyway!

“Sit.”

Mari cautiously retraced her steps and gingerly took a seat in front of his desk.

“You want to know what happened. The rest of the world will know by tomorrow morning anyway.” Nico laughed in self-disgust.

She looked back at him with open acceptance and concern. If he’d seen even an inkling of pity, he would not have been able to voice his inner demons. But as he’d anticipated, she offered a supportive, listening ear.

“My housekeeper, who has been in the family since before I was born, called me today asking me to return to my London flat. I was out on the golf course with my dad and his cronies in Kent, so being in London today wasn’t on the agenda. She said my wife had an accident, but she refused to say what had happened.”

“No! Is Celina all right?” Mari asked.

Nico gave a humorless laugh. “Celina is fine. In fact, when I got there she was in our bed bonking one of her male colleagues. My housekeeper thought it was time I finally discovered what I had married. Apparently, this had been going on for quite some time, and she’d been changing lovers with each new modeling assignment.” He took another swig of the clear liquid.

“When confronted, her security detail confirmed the many questionable relationships and suspected hook-ups with her colleagues. However, they drew the line when she brought one of her lovers to my home,” Nico muttered bitterly.

“I fucking hate women! I hate their deceptiveness, their single-minded predatory and mercenary pursuit of wealthy men. They don’t care if we’re fat, short, stupid, or ugly. They just want a fucking wealthy bastard to bankroll their useless quest to acquire designer shit! That’s it for me. Never again will I fall for their crap! They’re all the same, bitches and cheats!

Mari looked stunned.

“Nico, you can’t mean that. There are a number of decent women who will love you for the brilliant, amazing man you are.”

She stood and walked slowly toward him.

“I don’t understand why Celina would do something so malicious. But any woman will find you sexy as hell and could make even the more prudent of us drop our panties with just a glimpse of those beautiful baby blue eyes. How could she
want
someone else? It makes no sense.” Earnest sincerity and compassion filled her eyes.

Nico wondered if she realized what she’d just revealed in her outrage for him. The cold organ that resided in his chest was momentarily jolted by her obvious adoration.

“I’m sorry she hurt you like that.” She reached toward him as if to soothe him, but at his rigid, icy demeanor, pulled back. Her hands fell to her sides.

He laughed mirthlessly. “Hurt? Celina can’t
hurt
me. I’m only pissed that I’ve allowed this amoral, greedy bitch near my family.”

“I don’t understand why your staff didn’t tell you sooner.”

Nico shrugged his shoulder. He didn’t care and didn’t want anyone’s pity. But he wouldn’t lie to himself: this was exactly why he’d come to her. He knew she would respond this way, with understanding, loving him and being there for him. He wanted the solace that her unconditional devotion would provide.