Forbidden Boss (Nikki and Rome's Story) (Manhattan Billionaires)

24. Nikki

Breakfast was delicious and relaxed.I ended up sitting next to Raphael’s partner, Matt, discussing how Raphael had started his brand. We found a mutual connection in Marcus, Penny’s husband, which was delightful. Penny had actually gotten a tour of Raphael’s studio in the Garment District a few years ago, which proved that Marcus did, indeed, have at least one romantic bone in his body.

Rome stayed beside me, his arm around my shoulders, his gaze occasionally drifting to meet mine. It felt like we had an illicit secret, even though to everyone else, our sleeping together would be expected. But now, as I performed my job duties and socialized for all I was worth, I felt a little thrill every time his thumb stroked the side of my neck, or whenever his knee touched mine.

Lawn games took up most of the morning, and then guests were served a light lunch. After that, reports of the weather turning began to come in, so it was decided that the weekend would be cut short. Rome’s helicopter was the fourth to leave, and I watched Garcia’s estate shrink in the distance as we flew west toward the city.

Rome slid his hand over my knee. I turned to meet his gaze, arching my brows.

“Come home with me.”

My heart thundered. “Is that wise?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“We haven’t exactly defined what’s going on here.”

“What’s going on is that I want you in my bed.”

My lips twitched. “Do you have some of that delicious Belgian chocolate at your place?”

His fingers made slow strokes on the inside of my knee. “Of course.”

“What about chocolate chip cookies?”

“Those can be arranged.”

I turned to look out the window. “I’ll think about it.”

I sucked in a breath as his hand moved up my thigh to press the space where I needed it most. My head fell back against the seat as my gaze flew to the pilot, who could glance over his shoulder and see us at any minute.

“Think harder,” Rome said, his eyes full of wickedness as his fingers stroked through my clothes.

I panted, then dipped my chin. Rome gave me one last stroke, then took his hand away. For the rest of the ride, my body felt keyed up and a little too hot. And despite my fears about the future, I knew there was nowhere I’d rather be tonight than in Rome’s bed.

The helicopter flew over Manhattan and didn’t deposit us on the Blakely office building. We landed on a tall tower studded with balconies, where Rome threaded his fingers through mine to lead me across the roof and into the building. We descended a set of stairs and emerged into a glorious penthouse apartment that was bigger than anything I’d ever seen. The top floor of it was dominated by windows surrounding a living space, with a dramatic balcony taking up three sides. The decor was modern, if a little impersonal.

Rome crossed to a bar and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. I watched him, then drifted around the room to admire the modular couches, the unique, sculptural side tables, and the huge art canvasses on the walls. It was a little bare for my taste; I preferred a maximalist approach to design. Rich fabrics, a riot of color, too many pillows. This looked like it belonged in the pages of a magazine. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t for me.

“Nice place,” I said.

He poured the wine and took a seat on the couch, watching me inspect his space. “Thank you.”

“Must take ages to clean,” I mused, looking at all the hard surfaces that needed to be dusted and polished.

“I wouldn’t know.”

I snorted and drifted toward him. Sitting on the sofa with about a foot of space between us, I reached for the glass he’d poured for me. Before I could grab it, Rome’s arm snaked around my waist and pulled me tight to his side.

“That’s where you belong,” he said, nuzzling at my neck.

A shiver went through me, but I resisted the urge to give in. I leaned forward and grasped my wine, then met his gaze over the rim. “I want to lay some ground rules,” I told him.

He leaned back and laid his arm across the back of the sofa before dipping his chin. His expression was half guarded, half amused. “Okay.”

After my lust had abated slightly in the helicopter, I’d forced myself to think about what we were doing. And I decided that if life kept shoving me in the role of the placeholder, then that’s what I should be. This man was a billionaire, the CEO of a corporation of his own making, a man who could twitch his fingers and get something delivered within moments.

He was my boss. The man who’d found my next apartment. The man who signed my paychecks.

He would always have more power than me.

The best thing to do would be to not indulge in the physical with him, but those horses had bolted, and I didn’t particularly want to close the barn door in the first place. So I’d decided that if I wanted to keep this job—with the great bonuses, the health insurance, the salary—while also indulging in more nights like last night, then I’d have to put walls up within myself.

Yes, there was more to Rome than I’d originally thought. We connected on a level that I hadn’t expected. I understood his history, even if it was very different from my own. But we could never be together. Not for real.

I was a placeholder—but I’d own it.

“This is temporary,” I said.

Rome blinked.

I went on: “I’m not looking for anything serious,” I told him. “At least not with—” I clamped my lips shut.

“At least not with me,” he finished for me. He took a sip of his wine and set the glass down on a side table, then turned his eyes to meet mine. His gaze was dark, his emotions unreadable. “May I ask why?”

“A relationship should be built on mutual respect and some level of equality. I can’t be in a relationship with a man who can take my job away if we get in a fight.”

“You think I would do that?” The skin around his eyes tightened.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “We’ve spent time together these past weeks, but I honestly don’t know. I’d rather not take the risk.”

“So what do you propose?”

“Professionally, things stay the same. Personally, we have fun with each other.”

“You want me to be your friend with benefits.”

“Boss with benefits,” I corrected.

“And what if I say I don’t want that?”

I shrugged. “Then we leave it. I’m prepared to put this weekend aside and continue working as we have been. I know you need me for Monk.”

A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “You’re not entirely powerless, then.”

“Maybe not.”

His shoulders softened, and he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I also have rules.”

“Oh?”

“We’re exclusive. I’m the only man in your life from this moment onward.”

He’d been the only man in my life for a lot longer than that, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I nodded. “Fine. As long as that goes both ways.”

Rome nodded, then stood and extended a hand toward me. I slipped my palm into his and let him pull me up to my feet. He took my glass of wine and set it next to his, then faced me. His hands slid over my waist, and his gaze was steady on mine.

“So. You agree,” he said softly. “You’re mine, for as long as you decide you want to be.”

My heart rattled. I wasn’t sure that was exactly what we’d negotiated, but his body was warm and his hands were drifting over my hips, so all I could do was dip my chin. “Yes.”

A fierce, victorious smile stole over his lips. “Good,” he said—and crushed his lips to mine.