2. Off-Limits
two
Off-Limits
Romeo drummed his fingers over the armrest of the sofa in Dante’s office, irritation lashing through him. “Well that’s fucking fantastic.” He couldn’t say he’d had the greatest relationship with Tina, but he’d never felt he’d done wrong by her. Her accusations and abrupt departure were most definitely undeserved. He was honestly more pissed off about those things than he was about the idea of replacing her.
“Obviously we’ll do what we can to get you an acceptable replacement as quickly as possible,” Dante said.
Romeo turned his head to the side, his gaze slipping out the thin floor-to-ceiling window panel on the far side of the door. It was currently set to ordinary glass settings, though he knew Dante could darken it with the click of a button. From his angle, he had an almost perfect view of her.
His brother’s personal assistant, Grace Mariner. She was a fucking angel on earth.
“Think you could lend me Grace?” The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it, or think about it at all.
“Don’t be a dipshit.”
Romeo flashed a grin to his brother. “We have to pull someone from their post.”
“That’s not why you’re asking, and the answer’s no. You know that.”
Damn him and his observational skills, anyway. But Romeo played it off. “You say that like I’d hurt her. I’m not an asshole.”
Dante narrowed his eyes in silent warning. “It’s important the business stays clean, Romeo. Keeping Grace blind is a big part of that. So whatever it is that’s piqued your interest where she’s concerned, fucking bury it. I’m not interested in retraining an assistant, let alone at the same time as you.”
Romeo made a dismissive gesture. “Fine, fine. I’ll at least concede the timing does suck.” He paused and let himself grin. “But what if you did share? Until I get my own, of course.”
“Romeo.”
He chuckled. “Assistants, you pervert. I need one, and yours is indisputably amazing, remember?”
Dante leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. “Today, that’s probably what we’ll have to do. Just watch yourself.”
Romeo stood. He knew when he was pushing his limits. “It’s not like I’ve never worked with her before, brother. Relax.” Granted, the entire time Dante had been out of town for his honeymoon and Romeo had essentially been running the ship alongside Grace he’d gone home with blue balls every day. But he’d managed to endure without crossing the line. If he’d survived that, when no one was actually around to stop him, he could behave under supervision. “I’ll just go back to my corner and wait for my turn,” he added before letting himself out of the office.
Grace looked up from whatever she was typing as he drew near. That soft smile she always blessed him with lifted her lips moments before she said, “Good morning, Mr. De Salvo.”
Romeo tucked his hands into his pants pockets and forced his expression to remain neutral. “Not so sure about that ‘good’ part.” He tipped his head. “Hope yours is going better, Grace.” He’d let Dante explain her unfortunate workload increase, if she hadn’t already guessed it, and continued on his way. Stopping and chatting wasn’t going to win his larger argument.
He strode at a casual pace down the hall and all the way across to his proverbial wing of the upper floor, where he came to a stop. Given that his ex-assistant had so lovingly quit last-minute, he’d expected everything to be dark and silent and, infuriatingly, cold. That was not the case. The main spaces were lit as they were supposed to be, the heat had been adjusted, and upon closer inspection he found two sticky notes waiting for him. One on the desk in need of new ownership, and one on his office door.
The one on the desk explained that the computer was on but the monitor was asleep, for privacy’s sake, and the main line had been forwarded. All messages would be either emailed or relayed directly depending on urgency. The other note simply promised that nothing inside had been touched since the start of the business day.
Both were from Grace. He recognized her handwriting, but she had also signed them.
Romeo huffed out a breath, pocketed the notes, and moved around to the vacant desk. He woke up the monitor and opened the business email, which led to needing to sit down and deal with shit he hadn’t been mentally prepared for. It looked like Grace had gone through what emails she could when she’d booted up the computer, but of course she didn’t readily have the answers for everything.
He was still sitting at the desk that wasn’t his, dealing with shit that shouldn’t have frustrated him as much as it was, when Grace stepped around the corner and into the room. She came up short, blinking rapidly at the sight of him. For his part, he straightened, feeling strangely as if he’d been caught, and his gaze rolled over her.
A fucking skirt suit. Dark green with a cream blouse beneath, a color combination that emphasized her hazel eyes and complimented her complexion. The skirt was fitted perfectly around her thighs and hips, and he knew it would accentuate her ass enough to make his mouth water. The collar of her shirt and suit coat was modest, but with her hair pulled up as she preferred it, her neckline was exposed like an invitation.
His dick jumped to attention and Romeo bit back a groan. What he would give for just a single taste of her…
Romeo cleared his throat roughly and pushed away from the desk, busying his hands with rebuttoning his own suit coat as he stood. “What can I do for you, Grace?”
“I … I’m sorry to startle you, Mr. De Salvo—”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m sure I’ve told you to call me Romeo.” Preferably in a nice, breathy tone meant only for him. Currently, he’d settle for simply the sound of his name passing her lips.
Her soft smile returned and she adjusted her grip of the items she’d carried with her. “You have,” she acknowledged, “but that feels inappropriate somehow.”
He offered her a grin. “I’ll get you to come around eventually.” He arched a brow pointedly. “In the meantime, I’m sure my brother didn’t send you here to banter with me?” Not that he’d complain.
The subtlest tint of pink bloomed across the bridge of her nose and Grace drew a sharp breath. “No, of course not. Mr. De Salvo’s in a meeting he expects to take most of the rest of the morning. He said to offer you a hand while he was otherwise occupied.” She indicated her tablet. “I have access to what I need if something unexpected should come up on that end, so it isn’t a problem. As long as you’re fine with that.”
Romeo let his grin widen just for a moment, then stepped further from the desk that had claimed most of his morning—apparently—and swept an arm toward it. “She’s all yours. If I’ve fucked something up, you have my permission to fix it first and tell me second.”
To her credit, she tried not to laugh. But the sweet sound of her muffled chuckle drifted to him as she ducked by, circling around to claim the seat he’d just vacated. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She set her tablet on the desk and tucked her purse out of sight underneath as if she’d been working there for years. Her gaze flicked to the screen before returning to him. “Is there anything specific I can do for you that you can think of?”
He tucked his hand away again, repeated her question to himself in an effort to hear it the way she meant it, and shook his head. “If you could just go through that mess, and maybe look over the last couple emails I sent out, I think that’s a good start.” A terrible thought occurred to him. “Do you know my meeting schedule?” She would have mentioned if he were expected to join Dante in whatever current meeting was on deck, but that was the only reassurance he had. He hadn’t given the concept a thought.
Grace blinked at him once, her lips parted as if she were about to curse, then she snapped them shut and averted her focus to the computer. “I can find it. Please give me a second.”
Romeo adjusted to lean against the desk while she did whatever she had to do. He was usually not the best at remembering his Monday meeting schedule. That was one of the benefits of having a fucking assistant, for crying out loud. They’d had a good system. But none of that would fly if he’d missed something important. He’d still have to bow his head and take some heat from his brother—and that was never, under any circumstances, an advisable course of action.
“You’re good,” Grace said, almost sounding relieved. “Your first meeting isn’t until one-thirty this afternoon. Do you need me to email you today’s schedule?”
Thank fuck. Romeo straightened. “Actually, if you could text the technicalities to me. I probably have it all somewhere, but I haven’t even gotten into my office yet. Another email will just get lost.”
A moment passed before she replied, “Of course. I’ll get that right to you.”
He really wanted to stand around and keep her company, but his own words proved how bad a decision that would be. Hours had passed since he’d gotten to the office and he hadn’t even made it inside his own damn office yet. His office, which was much more private than this open lobby-like space, where there were walls and flat surfaces to choose from for indulging in all the things he wanted to do with the woman not five feet away.
Yeah, he needed to lock himself away for a while.
“I’ll be catching up if you need me, then,” he said, inclining his head before turning and striding to the still-locked door. I need to get a fucking grip.
Grace didn’t even hear Romeo’s door shut over the sound of her racing heart. She’d known she needed to prepare herself for working in his vicinity for a day or three, but even if she’d had all weekend to psych herself up for that she would have failed. The way he stretched out his tailored suits and the way his hair always looked slightly mussed and the way his whole face softened when he grinned at her—it was unfair. The man was lickable, and that was exactly what she wanted to do with him.
I really need to get a boyfriend.
In the meantime, Grace did her best to focus on the tasks in front of her. It was easy enough to transmit Romeo’s appointment information in text form, although the action itself made her feel stupidly giddy. Just for a moment. She’d had his number for a while, but she’d only used it once before, when Dante and Iris had been gone on their honeymoon. She’d actually never texted him. Not that it meant anything. She texted Dante several times a week, after all, and that meant nothing.
Her heart didn’t do a ridiculous jump when Dante texted her back, either. Which it apparently did with Romeo. That was great.
Grace set the phone aside once that was done and dove into the emails. She started with the ones Romeo had already tackled, per his request, and skimmed over those. She was less familiar with the specifics of a lot of the things going through his office, but she generally knew enough to keep up and step in. Particularly since the brothers worked so closely. That made it easy to do a quick and effective perusal, finding only one email where his impatience had probably made him sloppy.
From there it was her turn to fall down the rabbit hole. She didn’t know what Tina had done on her Saturday shift, but it sure as hell hadn’t involved email correspondence. She was startled when her phone went off again with another text, this one from her actual boss.
De Salvo, Dante: I’m headed out with Iris for lunch. Remember I need you in the next meeting. 2 PM .
Grace felt a flicker of disappointment for not getting to see her friend, though she didn’t know if Iris had even come all the way up, but she pushed it down and typed out a quick reassurance. Then she set an extra reminder to make sure she didn’t get too absorbed in whatever she was working on.
It could only have been minutes later when Romeo emerged from his office, walked around to her side of the borrowed desk, and rested his tight ass almost on top of her tablet. “Are you still a worse workaholic than my brother?”
She barely held back a burst of laughter and instead turned slightly in her chair so as to lift her gaze up to his. “That is a question I cannot safely answer.”
The laughter in his blue eyes assured her he caught her meaning. “Then you must be starving. You have thirty seconds to finish up whatever that is, and then we’re grabbing lunch. No arguments.”
She opened her mouth to argue anyway.
He straightened, already walking back around the desk. “Clock’s ticking, Grace.”
Her throat constricted and she swung her focus back to the screen. What had she even been doing before? She’d gotten that text, and before that—right, yet another email. But this was just a confirmation of information. She only had to sign off and click send, which she managed to do barely a heartbeat before Romeo quite literally pulled the chair away from the desk while she was still sitting in it.
He spun her around, catching her with a steady hand at the armrest of the chair, the motion bringing him dangerously close. “I did warn you,” he said. His words were too quiet, hushed as if they were telling secrets, despite that he was grinning.
Heat pulsed through her and she fought the sudden need to squirm or lick her lips. “You never actually mentioned consequences.”
His grin only widened, so much so that the dimple in his right cheek peeked through. “Well, I’ll let you off with a warning this time, then.” He stepped back and held out a hand. “Come on. I’ll have you back in plenty of time, promise.”
It was a terrible idea. She did, actually, remember the last time she’d tried going on a date. It had been early December, after weeks of ignoring or declining messages on the dating app she should never have signed up for. The desperation had finally won out and she’d convinced herself to give whatever guy a chance. She didn’t even remember his name, only that she’d spent their entire stilted conversation regretting the choice. She’d gone home and deleted her account on the app that very night, because she knew what she wanted and why the decent-seeming guy had been so uninteresting. And if that had been a problem before, allowing her secret crush to take her to a non-business meal just the two of them would only make it worse.
Grace let Romeo help her from the chair and did her best not to blush. She scooped up her phone, reaching next for her purse, and he clicked his tongue.
“You can bring the phone, but you don’t need the rest. It’s a lunchbreak, and it’s my treat,” he said.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“Already done.” He motioned toward the hall. “Shall we? Mo will have the car warm by the time we get down there, you don’t need your jacket. Unless you’re more comfortable that way.”
Grace pulled the Bluetooth from her ear, setting it beside the tablet, and started toward the elevator. “You already called something in, didn’t you?”
“Of course. Figured I was more likely to sway you that way.” He didn’t even sound ashamed of himself.
She waited until they were waiting for the elevator to climb back up to them and turned enough to give him a curious look. “What if I don’t like what you picked?”
Romeo exuded pure confidence. “How bad of a memory do you think I have?”
She opened her mouth to question that absurd answer when his meaning hit her. They’d worked fairly closely together in mid-October and shared lunch on multiple occasions. She nearly stumbled stepping onto the elevator, feeling flush and having to talk herself out of overthinking the implications of him remembering such a detail. “You remember that?” Her question was whispered, in part because she was breathless and in part because she hadn’t meant to ask it at all. But she made no attempt to retract it.
Romeo followed her in and pressed the button to close the doors behind them. He moved just a little too close and leaned back, resting one hand on the back wall railing without breaking eye-contact. “Of course I remember.”
Of course? This from the man who lost track of his Monday appointments?
Grace clutched tighter to her phone, thinking if she tried to maintain this conversation she might lose too much oxygen.
Romeo dipped his chin. “Do you not have a pocket for that?”
“What?” She followed his direction to her phone and had the powerful urge to smack herself in the face with it. “No, I do.” She unlatched one hand from the device and shoved it into one of the pockets of her suit coat. The pockets were one of the reasons she liked these suits, since designers still seemed to feel the feminine figure was marred by pockets below the waistline. God forbid.
Not wanting to sit in her embarrassment, Grace asked, “How’s Lucia?”
Romeo’s expression softened and he shifted his weight, leaning backward against the banister. The motion caused his arm to slide out, closer to her, but not quite close enough to touch. “She’s good, thank you. Always full of energy, even in the freezing temperatures.” He chuckled. “She might be an alien, though. The other day she told me she actually enjoys school ‘for the most part.’”
Grace bit back her smile. “I liked school.” The actual school part, at least.
He laughed outright, only straightening as the elevator settled to a stop. “Why does that not surprise me?” He leaned closer but didn’t lower his voice. “Could you tell me what planet my daughter’s from, then?”
Grace rolled her eyes dramatically and led the way out of the elevator. She lowered her voice instinctively, before she realized Romeo had skipped the lobby in favor of the underground parking level. The only one around to overhear them was his regular driver, Mauro. “The planet of smart, successful females. Obviously.” She smiled politely for the man she barely knew.
Mauro returned the smile with a smaller one of his own and an incline of his head, immediately moving to pull open the back passenger door.
“That does make sense,” Romeo said, still sounding amused. “So I’m screwed.” He motioned for her climb in ahead of him.
She paused, braced in the SUV’s doorway, and met Romeo’s mischievous blue gaze. “I’m afraid so, yes.” She couldn’t hide her own laughing grin before ducking properly into the warm cabin of the vehicle and sliding to the far seat. She heard Romeo speak quietly to Mauro, only for a moment, before he climbed in behind her and pulled the door shut.
As soon as the SUV was in motion, both men settled into their seats, Grace became aware of how close she really was to Romeo. He wasn’t even arm’s reach away, and with the way he filled out his seat she could practically feel his body heat even with a space between them. Or perhaps that was her heightened awareness.
She needed to be sure to stay on safe topics of conversation, for her own sake.
Romeo shifted in his seat seconds after they left the garage and pulled his phone from a pocket, the device buzzing in his hand. He muttered a curse when he looked at the screen, then cut her something like an apologetic frown. “Sorry. Just a minute.”
She smiled and nodded. She could use another minute to put herself together.
He swiped his thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Now’s not a good time, Mikey.”
Grace frowned, guilt and a flicker of irritation sparking inside her. She didn’t want to be the excuse for anyone to brush off their family, no matter how hypocritical that sounded. But she had always believed that all three brothers were close and she was not anyone important enough to come between them, not for a moment.
Romeo sighed. “I get that, but I’m busy. Maybe Cris can—” He stopped speaking, so Grace assumed his brother cut him off. When he spoke again, his words were tighter. Almost measured. “Fuck. Fine, call Ryōma. Text me any updates. Dante and I both have meetings this afternoon, but I’ll update him.” He pulled the phone from his ear, jabbed the screen, and shoved the device into his interior coat pocket.
“Sir?” Mauro asked, a note of caution in his voice.
“Keep driving, Mo.”
Grace curled her hands into fists in her lap, trying to understand her own unsettled feelings. She disliked the idea that she’d come between such a close group of siblings, and she disliked being so blatantly excluded from something. The plausible fact that it didn’t likely have a damn thing to do with her was irrelevant. “If I’m in the way, you can drop me off. I’ll get myself back.”
“What?” Romeo adjusted his upper body to face her better.
She made herself meet his gaze, since she’d gone and said the words. “I appreciate you wanting to take me to lunch, Mr. De Salvo, but it sounded like your brother needed you. Maybe it’s because of my own lousy family situation, but I hardly think an easily replaced employee should be prioritized over blood. I understand this isn’t what you intended to happen, there don’t need to be hard feelings. I can be mature about it.”
Something that could only be described as a growl vibrated from Romeo in the second before he released his seatbelt, then hers, and the next thing Grace knew he had wedged a hand around to the back of her neck and sealed his lips over hers. The kiss was firm, undeniably deliberate, but chaste and brief.
She was sure her eyes were wide as she stared at him in muted shock when he broke away, still leaning into her space. Still with his hand on her nape.
“You are not fucking replaceable. Period.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She knew he shouldn’t have kissed her, but she was too stunned by the fact that he had—and the vehemence with which he’d spoken such powerful words after.
Romeo blew out a breath that tickled her skin like little electric jolts. He leaned in again, slower, and ghosted his lips once more over hers. This time his lips were open, the kiss a little more lingering, but too light to be as wet as it should have. She unfroze with enough time to move her lips against his, somewhat, but she really could have done better. When he eased back the second time, he relaxed his grip of her as well.
Grace finally remembered how to breathe, her shocked excitement giving way to depressing reality. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, twisting her fingers in her own skirt in order to keep them there.
He stared into her eyes, holding perfectly still. “No,” he finally said, “we really shouldn’t.” His words didn’t have nearly the same conviction as his previous statement.
Of course, she fully understood. And she hoped the lighting in the back of the SUV was just bad enough to keep him from seeing the stupid, humiliating tears of disappointment that built in her eyes at the heartbreaking feeling that came with that understanding.