My Italian Billionaire: A BWWM Italian Billionaire Romance (7 page)

But he didn't want to play games with Megan. If he wasn't going to have her just be a fuck-and-duck-out-of-there girl, he had to be true to her and to himself.

But not too truthful. She obviously needed help financially, and while he wanted to just give her money—for anything, to save up for a car, to get out of that apartment which was not in a good area at all, to buy more food since her fridge had been a little sparse, to just save up for a rainy day, to support herself while she found a new job—he had a feeling, or strongly hoped at least, that she wouldn't accept it.

She was no Olivia, right? She wouldn't demand his credit card or complain if they didn't ride in a limo. Hell, she was a cook and she'd picked Chick fil A as their first date. Now granted, that had been because of her cousin.

The woman… he couldn't get her out of his mind. Even more than the sex, he was worried about her. Being in such a thankless job would kill her spark, her light. She was a black warrior princess.

He grinned as he entered his bedroom. Would she like to be called that, or would she slug him for it?

Although he'd planned on going into the office today, to see how things were going, he found himself researching culinary openings in the nearby vicinity. Would she even want his help? Maybe the deadline was making him think there was more to their relationship than there actually was.

Did they even have a relationship yet? Dinner and sex. Maybe he wasn't treating their time together much differently than he had with all the others after all.

Lucca ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. She was going to kill him, either from too much mind-blowing sex or because she was going to break his heart. Normally he did the heart breaking, although, if the women were honest, they were more broken up over losing access to his money than to him.

His phone rang. Assuming it was Paul, he answered immediately. "What's up?"

"Lucca," Olivia purred. "How are you doing, darling? I've been leaving you messages and emails and voicemails, and you haven't gotten back to me. I've been so worried."

He snorted.

"You aren't getting sick, are you? Do you need me to come over and nurse you back to good health?"

Did she realize how awful she sounded?

"No," he said with a straight face. "You should let me die."

She sharply inhaled. "Lucca, you know I didn't mean—"

"You didn't mean anything by not coming to my father's funeral." He hadn't wanted her there, but that was beside the point. "You also didn't mean anything by not giving me back my credit card either."

"I was planning on it. Tonight. Have me over and—"

"I don't think that's a good idea." His fingers flew over his keyboard, and he deactivated the credit line she had access to.

"Why not?" she whined. "What you need is—"

"What I need is for you to not call me again."

"Lucca." She sounded properly scandalized. "You can't mean that."

"I do."

"It's because of your father. You want to feel alone right now, but you aren't. Don't push me away—"

"Olivia, we were done before my father died. I just hadn't gotten around to telling you yet. Don't call or text or email me. Lose my number."

"Lucca, you can't be—"

He hung up. Not his most graceful breakup ever, but it was done.

His phone rang. Olivia. He blocked the number.

Almost immediately, the phone rang again. This time, it actually was Paul.

"So how goes finding a wife?" his friend asked without preamble.

"It's… going."

"I'm not sure if that was a positive tone in your voice or not. What's up?"

"I met someone."

"Who? Anyone I know?" Paul rattled off a list of names that included models and actresses.

"Nope. No one you know." Lucca made his way to the kitchen.

"And? Aren't you going to tell me about her?"

Lucca and Paul always talked to each other about their squeezes, but right now, Lucca wanted to keep Megan to himself. "She's… She's amazing."

"That's great. When do you think you'll pop the question?"

He had just taken a sip of water. He promptly spit it out.

"Heck, all you have to do is find a woman who is willing to sign a pre-nup and you're golden. Your father can't screw you out of the company. You deserve it, and not just because you're Lucca Greccio. You actually earned it."

"I'm not going to—"

"You don't exactly have a lot of time here, Lucca."

"You think I don’t know that?" Lucca growled. "I have time yet."

"Time to do what? Listen, Pam's calling. We'll talk more later." Paul hung up.

Time to do what? Time to find love. Or at least someone he could one day maybe fall in love with. Life wasn't a fairy tale, but maybe he could still find a princess and turn her into a queen.

A black warrior princess.

Although he hadn't planned on it, had figured he would wait a day at least, Lucca dialed Megan. One ring… four… seven. He hung up. He would've thought she'd be back home by now. Why hadn't she answered?

He fought the urge to call again.

That night, he climbed into bed and dreamt he was holding her, kissing her, making love to her. It wasn't the wild times they'd shared together, but slow and passionate and tender, unlike anything he had experienced yet.

He woke rock hard, and he stroked himself to the point of orgasm. When he reached his climax, he whispered her name.

Oh, man, he was in trouble. If she was just another Olivia, he was screwed. Already he couldn't get enough of her.

Somehow, he had to learn if he could trust her with his money, with his name. Trust, in his eyes, was almost more important than love.

Almost.

When morning came, Lucca forced himself to go into the office. To his surprise, Mr. Valet showed up at his desk an hour later.

"Back to work, I see." Mr. Valet frowned.

Cindy, Lucca's secretary, hovered by the door. "I'm sorry, sir. He insisted he see you right away."

"It's fine." He waved her away and sat down behind his desk. "Are you here to tell me I can't work until after I marry?"

"Actually, yes. I can only assume your father thought that work might prove a distraction to your finding a woman to settle down with. If you'll just come with me…"

"Who is acting as the CEO?" Lucca demanded.

"The board is working together. That position is yours, Lucca, to have or to lose."

"It's not so simple." Lucca curled and uncurled his hands into fists, keeping them on his lap so the lawyer wouldn't see.

"It can be. Marriage is merely an agreement between two individuals—"

"Mr. Valet, my parents' marriage was more than 'merely an agreement.'"

At least the lawyer had the decency to look embarrassed. "Yes, well…"

"Mr. Valet, if you will excuse me, I have to take this call." Lucca lifted the receiver and held it to his ear.

"Lucca, you can't—"

"Yes. Very good," Lucca said to the dial tone. He covered the mouthpiece and said to the lawyer, "I'll leave once I finish this call. Cindy?"

His petite secretary came back. "Yes, sir?"

"Please escort Mr. Valet to his car."

"Of course, sir. Right away. After you."

Mr. Valet stared at Lucca, who rolled his chair around so his back was to the lawyer. When he pivoted back around three minutes later, Cindy and the lawyer were long gone.

Good. He didn't need to feel like his lawyer had replaced his father, hovering over his shoulder. Actually, in recent years, his father had trusted him more and more with the company. It hadn't been easy working for the man, and yet Lucca had flourished. This world, the corporate world, that he understood and excelled in. Lasting relationships and the dating world, that was a mystery to him.

A knock at his door had him glancing up. Cindy stood there, a clipboard in her hand. Father had selected her for him. His father knew about his many women, and he never gave his opinion on the matter to Lucca, but her hiring established an unspoken rule—Lucca was not to date, or screw, within the company.

Cindy was never anything but professional toward him, and Lucca had never thought of her as anything but his coworker.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could have you sign off on these papers. The annual fundraiser is coming up in a month and—"

"That's right." He held out his hand and accepted the forms she freed from her clipboard. Humming to himself, he flipped through them. "Jackson and Jackson Catering isn't going to handle the food prep this time?"

"They… ah… they are taking a slight leave, sir."

"Why?" He frowned. Their service was the best, and G. Tech Incorporated only ever use the best. They worked in the computer industry and had segments set up in several countries. One way to ensure they remained on the top was through fundraising and demonstrations of their products. Staying ahead of the rest of the computer world meant having a very public face.
Another reason Father wanted to force me to settle down, I'm sure.

"Ah…"

Lucca shifted his gaze from the paper to her. Cindy never had to be asked a question twice.

"There… there was a death in the family, sir," she finally managed.

He winced. "And you've suggested that we go with Starlight Dine Out instead."

"Yes, sir. From what I hear—"

"No."

"Sir?"

"Two years ago, they had a rat infestation problem." He rubbed his temple. "I'll figure something out. Is that all?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, turned, and walked away.

If only he could hire Megan to do it. But there would be no way to hide who he was if he did, and besides, catering was a far cry from working in the restaurant business. Not only that, she would have to have several people working under her to make the sheer amount of food the fundraising event would require.

Regardless, there had to be a way for him to help her. If only he could figure out how…

Chapter Ten: Axe to Grind

"I quit." The words blurted out of Megan’s mouth. She untied her apron and shoved it at Dave.

He stared at her then at the apron. "But what about my customers?"

"What about them? If I'm so replaceable, then go ahead. Replace me." Head high, she maneuvered around him and slammed the back door shut behind her.

Maybe it was wrong of her to have just done that, but walking into work and seeing Dave and that slutty waitress screwing on her counter had set the day off on the wrong foot. Then when he had dared to berate her for mixing up an order which that floozy had written down wrong, well, it had been the final straw. She was a proud woman, and she wasn't about to be walked all over.

She should immediately seek out other restaurants and try to find another job, but her attitude just was too fiery at the moment. So instead she marched herself back to her place. There, standing at her door, was Lucca. Dressed in a tight golf shirt that showed off his biceps and pants that hung low on his hips, he was just the sight she needed to see right now.

"I tried calling you—"

Her arms reached around his neck, pulling him down to her, and her lips devoured his. At his gasp or groan or moan—she couldn't tell and it didn't really matter—he parted his lips, and she invaded his mouth with her tongue. Heat and passion and anger and fury rolled into one. When he pulled away to end the kiss, her teeth gently claimed his lower lip, and she gave it a teasing tug.

"If that's the kind of greeting I'm going to get when I just show up unannounced, I'm going to have to make more unannounced visits." His grin was devilish, and his hair looked all disheveled. It had been done pretty close to perfect when she'd arrived. She must have messed it up. While he looked amazing when he was all put together, he was even more impressive with that just-had-amazing-sex-and-aren't-you-jealous look going. Just staring at him, knowing she could touch him everywhere, that she already had, made her wet.

"Just you wait. My greeting isn't over yet." She shoved her key into the lock and pushed him inside. Her foot closed the door, and she leaned against it, her hand slipping behind her to lock it.

His hands cupped her face, and he stared down at her, raw lust in his eyes. Good. Right now, she didn't need an emotion other than that. She was too riled up for anything but passion and fucking.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Now isn't the time for talking."

Again, she came at him with reckless desire, hands touching him everywhere, hating that clothes kept her from feeling his bare skin. Her hands worked their way up his shirt, so she could feel his tight back muscles as he moved against her, rubbing himself against her, making him grow harder and her wetter. How she loved the feeling of his hardness, although it felt so much better when his penis was inside her. Soon. So soon.

Her lips moved to his throat, and she sucked hard. He jerked himself against her, and she darted away, wanting him warring with her desire to tease him. But that also meant teasing herself, and so she reached for the bottom of his shirt. He was already yanking it over his head, and for a moment, she took in the sight of him—perfectly toned hairless pecs, hard lines of abs, and a trail of dark hair that ended from her sight far too soon.