Billionaires: The Hero

She took a step back. “Mi dispiace. I—I didn’t realize that’s what you were doing. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” he agreed, his voice sharp as a knife. “Because you will stick to my rules or you won’t play at all.”

She nodded rapidly, pupils as big as saucers, hands clenched by her sides. He did a double take. She was afraid of him?

Then he remembered what she’d just gone through... How intimidating he must look to her at twice her size towering over her. Furious. Mina wasn’t one of his toughened, worldly employees used to his rants. She was a baby chick who’d just taken fledgling steps out of the nest.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out a breath. “Business isn’t the glorified interaction of a tea party, where everyone plays nice and leaves with a smile on their face. It’s a ferociously competitive playground where only the strongest survive. I could leave you in a back office, give you research work and not let you experience what it’s really like, but that’s no way to learn. So find yourself a thick skin, Mina. Learn to be a gladiator, because people’s feelings don’t matter in this game.”

A determined glint entered her eyes as the fear faded from her face. “I can and I will, Nate. I apologize again. I did not mean to undermine your authority.”

“Fine.” He nodded. “Go get changed for the party.”

She started toward her room.

“Mina?”

She turned around. “I thought your idea about the repeat guests was right on the money. Emotional affinity is the reason people will spend money in a downturn. I’m going to direct Giorgio to investigate with his marketing team.”

Her face brightened. It was like the sun had come out. “Grazie, Nate.”

His lips curved. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that after a month with me.”

CHAPTER SIX

“WILL THIS DO?”

Nate shifted his gaze from the smartphone he’d been perusing to the spectacular set of legs in front of him. Moved up past rounded hips outlined in a shimmering midnight blue fabric to a modestly covered but spectacularly presented cleavage. The term less is more came to mind. With Mina less was always more. A man could be forgiven for concluding she was best left entirely unclothed for his undeniable pleasure.

And yet Mina, it seemed, had no idea of just how stunning she was, a fact that only increased her appeal. Lip caught between her teeth, a finger twirling a curl around it, her gaze on his for approval, it amused him to think of what her response would have been had he suggested what would have been on his mind had she been his wife in more than name.

Her eyes on his in the ornate mirror on the wall, her palms flat on the antique table in front of it, her dress around her waist as he put that just taken glow in her cheeks that marked her his.

Mina’s eyes widened. Her lashes came down to fan her cheeks.

“You look stunning,” he said, before he shocked her from here to New York. “The color suits you.”

“Grazie.” She smoothed the dress over her hips. “So tell me the goal for the evening.”

She was learning. “The Grand Hotel chain,” he said, tucking his smartphone into the pocket of his jacket, “has partnered with Hollywood legends Antonio Davis and Franco Messini on a series of nightclubs located in select properties around the world—London, LA, Capri and New York. Curious—the nightclub brand—reflects the exclusive, adventurous cross section of clientele who frequent it and the unique experiences the nightclub offers.”

“I know Antonio Davis,” Mina said, her eyes shining. “He’s a legend. I love his movies.”

“He’s also a shrewd businessman. Brilliant at extending his brand to other realms. Tonight,” he said, buttoning his jacket, “is the opening night for Curious in Capri. Antonio and Franco have flown their entourages in for the event, the goal to stir up excitement for the launch.”

“And what will be the unique experience tonight, then?”

“It’s an Arabian Nights theme. Exotic, sensual. All the usual decor. But there will also be a tattoo artist who is doing henna tattoos. It’s a unique branding opportunity guests will show off after the event, keeping the buzz going.”

“Henna tattoos are all the rage in the magazines.”

“I think they look very sexy on a woman.” He arched a brow at her. “Have you tried?”

“I don’t think it’s really me.”

“You never know until you try.” The wicked note to his voice brought a pretty pink flush to her cheeks. “Antonio’s entourage is fine to mingle with, by the way. Franco’s can be questionable. Steer clear of them.”

She nodded, a flicker of something he couldn’t read in her eyes.

“What?”

“You think I’m hopelessly naive.”

His mouth tipped up at one corner. “Aren’t you?”

She stared at him for a long moment, the flush in her cheeks increasing, then bent to retrieve her wrap from a chair. “Who am I supposed to be this evening? Your protégée or your pretend wife?”

“My jaw-droppingly beautiful wife.” He swiped the wrap from her and draped it around her shoulders, his fingertips brushing against her enticing golden skin. “The big bad wolves are coming out to play tonight, Mina. Thus the warning.”

She lifted her chin. “I’ve attended more society parties than I’d care to count. I’ll be fine.”

“Not like this one.”

Her gaze lowered to his hands, still resting on her bare shoulders, as if she wondered why they were still there. He wondered, too. Wondered why every excuse to touch her was irresistible.

Perhaps the wolves were inside, too...

His hands slid from her shoulders. “Tonight will be a good dry run for you for New York. The news that we’re married will filter back to the press. They’ll be all over us for a bit, I expect.”

An apprehensive look entered her beautiful brown eyes. He pressed his palm to her back and propelled her to the door. “You’re a gladiator, remember? This is a piece of cake.”

* * *

The Curious party, held in the Emelia’s sleek outdoor lounge that overlooked the bay, was in full swing when they arrived. To the outward eye it looked as if it had been flawlessly executed by Giorgio’s staff. Arabian Nights–style tents in vibrant jeweled colors blanketed the furniture-strewn space, varying in size and complexity. Gauzy green and purple curtains, both drawn and open, hinted at two degrees of interaction, both social and seductively intimate.

The interior of the tents was over-the-top fantasy, those same jeweled tones reflected in the pillows and throws that covered the low-slung divans and rich tapestries. Copious amounts of candles, ornate lamps, bejeweled belly dancers giving partygoers seductive performances and the tattoo artists completed the ambience. It was as if you’d just made your way through the desert and stumbled upon an oasis filled with the most beautiful people on earth.

Jewels were abundant, paid escorts, too, accompanying the rich men who required a beautiful woman by their side.

“Paid escorts?” Mina didn’t seem to get the concept. “You mean prostitutes?”

“I doubt they would appreciate that terminology,” he drawled. “I expect some will provide recreational activity and some are here for appearances only.”

“Oh.” She shut up after that as he networked his way through the space with ruthless efficiency. He wasn’t a natural-born socializer. It was a means to an end, a necessary requirement of the job. His wife, on the other hand, was in her element, circulating with an effortless poise, murmuring polite phrases in that sexy Italian lilt of hers, adjusting to the interests and personality of everyone that she met on the fly to put them perfectly at ease. He found himself captivated by her charm, by the chameleon that she was, his attention focused on her with an unwavering fascination that was a new experience for him.

Antonio Davis separated himself from the crowd when he saw them, drawing his longtime Hollywood starlet of a girlfriend, Evangelina, toward them. Antonio wrapped an arm around Nate and gave him a slap on the back. “Heard you were here. Also heard you were married to this stunning creature. What gives? No invitation?”

“We married rather...impulsively yesterday or you most certainly would have been invited.” Nate nodded at Mina. “Mina meet Antonio Davis and his other half, Evangelina Cabriera.”

Antonio gave Mina a kiss on both cheeks as did Evangelina. Mina gave the actor a shy look. “I love your films. I learned to speak English with your movies.”

The aging Hollywood heartthrob, whose outward cool masked the intensely ambitious, genuinely likeable guy he was inside, smiled. “So one of your first phrases was, ‘Shoot ’em up, Charlie’?”

“I think it was actually, ‘I’m no hero, kid. I’m just a man with a good horse and impeccable timing.’”

Antonio threw back his head, a deep booming laugh escaping him. The cowboy lingo delivered in Mina’s sexy Italian accent didn’t quite have the same ring to it. “Liked Carson, did you?”

“Loved him. It was so fun watching him discover Charlie was a girl.”

“Fun role to play.” Antonio lifted a brow at Nate. “Seen Franco?”

“Not yet.”

Antonio grimaced. “He’s been otherwise occupied.”

Nate didn’t want to know what that might be. Hollywood’s resident bad boy didn’t seem to recognize he was far past the age where he should be doing all-nighters with copious amounts of illegal drugs. He dealt with Antonio and left Franco out of it and they ran a squeaky clean business together.

“Any interest in joining Evangelina for a tattoo?” Antonio asked Mina. “She’s dying to have one and I have a bit of business I wanted to discuss with Nate.”

Mina looked to Nate for confirmation. He gave her a challenging glance that said, Expand your horizons. Mina’s chin lifted. “I’d love to.”

Antonio filled him in on the new business idea he had for a stand-alone series of nightclubs. Nate liked it immediately. Liked even more that Franco was not involved. “Send the proposal over.”

“You got it.” The actor smiled and waved at someone. “Hey, there’s a financier here you should meet.”

He scanned the crowd for Mina. She and Evangelina were in the middle of Franco’s crowd. His gaze narrowed on Franco in a flashy white suit, his megawatt predatory smile fixed firmly on Mina.

“She’s a big girl,” Antonio said, sliding an arm around his shoulders. “She’ll be fine.”

* * *

Mina was trying to relax and enjoy herself, she really was. But this party was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Evangelina was throwing back drinks twice as fast as she was and introducing her around to famous actors, actresses and producers at such a pace her head spun. She was afraid she was going to insult somebody by not remembering them and the men seemed inordinately friendly, their admiring eyes seeming to linger just a bit too long.

The buzzing atmosphere only heightened the chaotic feeling inside of her the last twenty-four hours had induced. Walking away from her home, that awful phone call with her mother this afternoon, Nate’s anger at her for overstepping her bounds in that meeting. She would have preferred to be curled up in their suite watching one of Antonio’s Westerns.

“Hey, beautiful.” Franco Messini took advantage of a break in Evangelina’s watch over her to grab her hand and lead her to the bar.

“I don’t really need another glass of wine.”

“Can’t leave my lovely guest empty-handed,” Franco purred, raising his hand to signal the bartender. Securing them two glasses of champagne, he directed her away from the crowd at the bar. “I heard you say you were a fan of Sybil Atkinson. I just saw her. Let me introduce you to her.”

Mina thought that was a fine idea. The less interaction she had with Franco alone, the better.

He led her through the crowd toward one of the tents. She followed him inside the small, intimate space with its seductive dim lighting. It was empty.

“I guess she moved on,” she said lightly. “I really should get back to my husband. He’s likely looking for me.”

“He should be keeping closer tabs on you.” Franco moved closer, his bulky body blocking out the light. The suspicious shimmer in his blue eyes sent a frisson of unease through her. She wondered if he’d been indulging in more than just alcohol. “You’re the most beautiful woman at this party, Mina.”

She licked dry lips as he continued to move closer. “That’s very nice of you to say. But I really think I should get back to Nate.”

“In a minute.” Franco ran a finger down the bare skin of her upper arm. “It isn’t a crime to look at another man’s wife, is it?”

But he was touching her. She took a step backward, the unsettled feeling inside of her unraveling into alarm. Her palms sweaty, pulse racing in her throat, she swallowed hard. “I’d like to get back to the others.”

“Don’t look so threatened.” Franco’s confident, aggressive gaze mocked her as he closed the space between them again. “You haven’t given me the time of day since we met. I just want to get to know you better. You are my business partner’s wife, after all.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. My husband—he—he’s the jealous sort.”

The actor lifted a hand and ran a finger down her cheek. “Maybe he should learn to share... Nate’s always been a smug bastard. Too much so for my taste.”

Her pulse pounded harder, her palms growing ice cold now. She darted a glance at the exit, blocked by Franco’s big body. Told herself to stay calm. But an image of Silvio manacling her wrist, kissing her, the crack of his hand snapping her head sideways, sent her heart slamming against her chest.

Franco was so much bigger than her.

The air in the tent seemed to dissolve. Her breath came faster, tighter, intensifying the cloudy feeling in her head.

“Please—” she murmured in a broken tone.

Franco dragged his thumb across the edge of her jaw. “Please what?”

Please let me go.

“You’d best be taking your hands off my wife.”

Nate’s voice, low and tight, cut through the air. Franco turned, revealing her husband silhouetted in the light, standing just inside the entrance to the tent. His gaze was trained on the actor, a quiet, white-hot fury on his face.

Franco eyed Nate. He was equally as tall as the actor, but less bulky, with more lean-packed muscle. Ferociously intimidating in the way he carried it. Franco registered it, too, apparently, for he stepped back, hands raised. “Easy, Brunswick. We were just talking.”

“Which explains why my wife looks petrified.” Nate walked to Mina and slid an arm around her. She leaned into him, her knees going weak.

“You try my patience, Franco.” Nate fixed his gaze on the actor. “Clean up your act or I will end this partnership, no matter how much I like Antonio.”

Franco scowled. “You have far too much invested to do that.”

“Watch me. Get lost, Messini. You ever come within ten feet of my wife again and I will take you apart.”

Franco’s belligerent gaze tangled with Nate’s. For a heart-stopping minute she wasn’t sure which way it was going to go. Then Franco turned on his heel and left.

Mina sagged with relief. Nate turned her around, keeping his arm banded around her waist. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “Nothing—he—I should never have allowed him to bring me here. He said he was going to introduce me to Sybil Atkinson, but when we arrived, there was no one here.”

His mouth flattened. “I told you not to mess with Franco or his crowd.”

“I wasn’t. I was avoiding him. Then Evangelina went off to talk to someone and he just swooped in.”

“What did he say to you?”

She frowned. “Something just seemed off in the way he was looking at me. I told him I wanted to go, but he wouldn’t let me... He started touching me. He said it wasn’t a crime to look at another man’s wife. That—” her chin dipped “—you were a smug bastard who should learn to share.”

Black heat shimmered in his eyes. “He said that?”

“Sì.” Her stomach clenched at the sudden stillness in his tall, lean body. “I’m sure it was all, what do you Americans call it? Bravado?” she said hurriedly. “That I was overreacting. I—I saw Silvio in my head. I went back to the night he hit me and I froze. I told myself to walk away, to come find you, but my legs wouldn’t work.”

The aggression in his gaze softened. “It’s common for a person put into a threatening situation to freeze. To shut down.” He shook his head. “It’s my fault. I should never have left you alone with this crowd.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Let’s go.”

She followed him out of the tent. Balked when he headed toward the exit. “I don’t want to ruin your evening. I’ve already caused enough problems between you and Franco.”

“Franco and I already had issues. And you did not cause that scene. Franco did.” He put a hand to her back and propelled her through the crowd. “I was coming to find you to leave.”

The lights of Capri glimmered around them as they rode the glass elevator up to their penthouse suite. She started to feel silly as she studied Nate’s grim face. She had totally overreacted. Franco hadn’t really been a threat. He’d been trying to push Nate’s buttons. Hers. And she had let him.

Nate was probably wondering what in Dio’s name he’d signed on for with her.

“You okay?”

She sighed. “I feel like you’re always rescuing me. You must think I’m some kind of damsel in distress who can’t take care of herself.”

He shook his head. “This was my fault tonight, Mina.”

“No. It’s just—” She bit her lip. “I’m not normally like this.”

“What are you normally like?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Self-sufficient. Strong. I was eight when I was sent to that boarding school in France. I didn’t speak the language. I was brutally lonely. I learned to be a survivor.”

“You are,” he pointed out. “You could have allowed yourself to be a victim with Silvio. You could have married him and suffered a lifetime of abuse. But you didn’t. That took guts.”

She nodded. It’s just that she hated that person she’d been tonight. Hated everything being so out of her control. That she couldn’t seem to trust her instincts anymore.

“You’ve had your life turned upside down over the past forty-eight hours, Mina.” Nate rested his gaze on her face. “Cut yourself some slack. You need to honor your fear as well as put it behind you when you’re ready.”

He was right. She knew that.

“Have you ever considered taking martial arts?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure it’s my thing.”

“You should consider it. It’s very empowering for a woman to learn how to defend herself.”

“Do you do it?”

He nodded. “Karate.”

“How good are you?”

“A black belt. But you don’t have to be skilled to defend yourself. You just need to know the basics.”

“That’s very impressive,” she told him as he guided her off the elevator and into the penthouse. Also sexy.

He undid his jacket and shrugged it off. “I grew up in a rough neighborhood. I needed to protect myself. There were two ways to do that—with weapons or as your own personal weapon. I eventually chose karate.”

“Eventually?”

His dark lashes fanned down over his cheeks. “I had a few iffy years before I made that choice.”

She absorbed that piece of new information. She’d imagined being a Di Sione or half of one would have meant being brought up in luxury. The fact that he hadn’t had an entitled upbringing seemed to better reflect the man. The uncivilized edge beneath the veneer Franco had taken one look at tonight and walked away from.

He threw her a glance as he loosened his tie and undid the top couple of buttons of his shirt. “So? I could sign you up for some classes at my gym in New York.”

“I don’t know,” she said dubiously. “I’m not a very physical person.”

“You’re a gladiator, remember?”

Not much of one tonight.

“I can show you how you would have gotten out of that situation with Silvio if that would make you feel better.”

Her brow creased. “How? He’s far bigger than me.”

“If you knew self-defense, you could have. Show me what happened that night. I’ll teach you a couple of simple self-defense techniques.”

“Now?”

He gave her an amused look. “Now.”

She chewed on her lip. The desire to take back control, to wipe the fear from her head, was too strong to resist. “Sì. Please show me.”

He nodded. “Tell me what happened that night.”

“We were in my mother’s salon. I had just poured Silvio a drink. He was angry with me for telling him I had cold feet about the marriage. He—he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him and started kissing me. I was...surprised. He hadn’t been aggressive with me before. The kiss—it started to get...intimo.” Her gaze dropped away from his. “I didn’t like it so I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let me go. Then he hit me across the face.”

Nate stepped toward her. “Show me how close you were to him.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“I need to know how far apart you were. How much room you had to maneuver. That determines what self-defense techniques you use.”

“Oh.” She thought back. “We were very close.”

“Like this?” He took her wrist and pulled her to him. The brush of his tall strong body against hers sent heat rushing to her cheeks. Every nerve ending in her body flickered to life, making her so utterly aware of him she could hardly look at him.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she murmured.

“Show me, Mina.”

“We were closer than this.”

“How close?”

She stepped into him until every centimeter of their bodies were touching from chest to knee. Her breasts brushed against his chest, her hips rested in the cradle of his, and Dio mio, this was not good. He was too overwhelmingly male. And she was having the opposite reaction to him than she’d had to Silvio.

“Where were his arms?”

“One was on my waist—well lower,” she corrected hesitantly. “The other, I don’t remember.”

Nate slid his arm around her waist. “We’ll go with this. This about right the way we’re standing?”

“Sì.”

He lowered his head and brought his mouth to within a centimeter of hers.

Her heart stuttered. “What are you doing?”

“Push me away.”

Right. Dannazione, Mina—focus. She lifted her hand and pushed hard against his shoulder. It was like trying to move a brick wall.

“When you are this close,” he told her, “you lose power. You have no room to maneuver. You either have to make space so you can attack him, which you aren’t going to be able to do in this situation, or go for the vulnerable points.”

“Vulnerable points?”

“My groin,” he said pointedly. “Try bringing your knee up hard and fast.”

“No.”

“You’re a gladiator.”

She gritted her teeth and tried to lift her leg. She got exactly nowhere.

“Not enough room, right?”

She shook her head.

“What are my other vulnerable points?”

“Your face?”

“Be more specific.”

“Your eyes?”

“And what else?”

“Your nose?”

“Yes, but the throat is better. A quick, hard strike against the throat—the Adam’s apple of a man in particular—is perfect. It shocks me enough to let you go. Gouging at the eyes is also good. Your goal is to stun me long enough to get away.”

She nodded.

“Let’s try it from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

“You need to put yourself back in the scenario. Imagine it’s happening, remember the sequence and go for one of my vulnerable points. I won’t know which way you’re going to go, which gives you the element of surprise that you would have in that situation.”

She pressed her lips together. “Okay.”

He slid an arm around her waist and tugged her close. “Ready?”

“Sì.”

He brought his mouth down to hers, and this time he kissed her. Unlike the first kiss he’d given her in front of the registrar, this one was unavoidable, dominant, meant to simulate the one Silvio had given her. She trusted Nate. She did. Her heart pounded, anyway, at how helpless she felt. How much stronger he was. When he took the kiss deeper, made a claim on her she wasn’t willing to submit to, she stiffened, gathered her strength and slammed her right hand hard in his throat.