Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
One Man’s Trash
Santino guided her to his Rolls-Royce, pausing to indicate the extra car at the curb and make sure she understood the men crammed inside were his. He called them soldiers.
He wasn’t just going with her to her father’s office; he was coming armed for war.
The realization helped Reiko feel more justified in her inexplicable sense of panic, but at the same time, it reignited her nerves. What kind of trap did her father have laid out for her? How obedient did he expect her to still be after so long?
None of that matters. She had Santino, and Santino had made it clear he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.
Santino pulled her up to his side as the vehicle glided into motion, his arm locking around her. “Let’s talk about the future,” he said, his tone lighter than it had any right to be.
Reiko balked. “I don’t know if I can think about that kind of thing right now.”
“That’s why now is a perfect time.” He gave her a squeeze. “It’ll help distract your mind.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “And mine.”
Something inside her pulsed with an ache she was beginning to associate with him.
It made her question her sanity. But if they hadn’t had time before, they most definitely did not now that they were in motion.
So, she pushed the feeling down and searched her brain for a future-themed topic.
And landed, of course, squarely on the one she’d been bouncing back to all morning.
“Okay,” she said. “You mentioned before about my employment being optional….”
He gave a hum of acknowledgement and his thumb began rubbing over her hip through the dress. He was rubbing almost directly over her scar.
There’s no way that’s accidental. Yet his touch was so affection.
Possessive, even. She couldn’t help the softer tone of her voice when she finally stumbled through her thought process about her situation.
She barely remembered the complication of the phone—the phone she’d left on her kitchen table, because what good was it currently?
Santino listened quietly, seemingly attentively, the entire time.
And when she was done, he said calmly, “I think that’s a great idea.
Approach it from a clearer mindset and let yourself focus on what you want.
” He tipped sideways and kissed the top of her head.
“Don’t worry about your phone. I’ll pick you up a new one and add you to my plan this afternoon.
You’ll just have to decide if you want to port over your old number. ”
She thought about arguing for a split second, but realized it was pointless.
She slumped against him and allowed herself to relax into his embrace.
“Since we’re all about honesty, would you please tell me—give me some kind of hint—as to how long you expect your fascination with me will last?
How long before I should brace for all of this to end? ”
His grip tightened and Santino let out a low rumble. But he didn’t immediately respond. Seconds passed before he said, “I tell you what. Since I don’t have those kinds of extra-sensory abilities, I’ll make you a deal.”
Intrigued, Reiko tilted her head to look for his face. His grip was too tight for her to straighten.
He wore only a small smirk as he tilted his head enough to catch her gaze. “The moment I start to see an end-point for us, I’ll tell you. On the condition that until we have that conversation, you assume we’re solid, regardless of anything you might be hearing from some outside party.”
Trust. He was asking for her trust. It wasn’t the wildest thing he’d asked for, arguably.
Reiko licked her lips as something clicked through the air.
Armando’s voice cut into the conversation. “Approaching the parking garage now.”
Santino clicked his tongue in a clear sign of irritation, turned, and pressed a button on the side panel. It was only then that Reiko remembered he’d put up the privacy divider when they’d climbed into the car. “Dario, stay with the car while we’re inside.”
She drew a deep breath. It hadn’t felt like they’d been in the car long enough to cross that much of the city.
Santino caught her by the chin and pulled her focus up to him once more. “Promise me, beautiful.”
It took her a moment to remember what he was asking for. Then she reached up and hooked her fingers around the collar of his sleek black dress shirt. “You have a deal, Mr. Guerra.”
She wasn’t sure who closed the distance.
She didn’t care which of them initiated the kiss.
It only mattered that Santino’s arms were tight around her and she was breathless and burning by the time the car stopped.
The delightful flush he’d caused in her kept the nerves from resurfacing until they had crossed the parking garage and piled into the elevator.
But, as the steel box rose, so did her anxiety.
She hadn’t truly ever wanted to see her father again.
Seeing him this way more than likely meant they would also run into Hiroto.
The elevator stopped on a mid-level floor and a stranger ambled in with a thermos in hand and a thick manila envelope tucked under his arm. His gaze rolled across them and his knuckles seemed to whiten around the thermos.
Santino pulled Reiko flush to his side, his arm practically swallowing her.
She could only imagine the image they made, her in her cream-based and vaguely springy dress and him in his black-on-black billionaire CEO chic.
They were strikingly diametrical in appearance, and thinking about their fashion choices only forced her to think about how that description also applied to their physical differences.
Something he’d said the day before suddenly crashed back through her mind. “I can’t fucking wait to see you pregnant with my babies. Little Japanese-Italian hellraisers.”
Reiko lifted an arm and curled it around Santino’s back, letting her fingers dig just a bit into the fabric of his surely expensive shirt. Had she articulated to him that she’d ultimately failed to damage her reproductive organs in her misguided desperation? She couldn’t remember.
And time was up.
They’d ascended another ten floors and their unwitting fourth wheel had disappeared somewhere along the way. The doors were opening again, and according to the readout, they’d reached the top. The executive level.
Armando moved out ahead of them, his head swinging side to side, then he stretched an arm back and held the elevator doors open to allow them to exit calmly.
Santino took the time to press one more kiss to Reiko’s temple and murmured, “If this gets ugly, you run straight for the stairwell. Luca’s team is only a couple of floors below; they’ll scoop you up and get you out. Understand?”
She blinked at him. “Do I want to know how you got so many scary men past those metal detectors downstairs?”
He grinned. “Now isn’t the time, but I’d be happy to regale you later.
” He tipped his head before leading the way into the hall.
As soon as there was space, he pulled her up to his side again and settled his hand heavily at the small of her back.
It felt formal, intentional. Like a grand entrance without all the horned instruments.
She might have heard a few somewhere in her subconscious, because she found herself wanting to stand straighter.
She also had the powerful compulsion to wring her hands in her dress and it was all she could do to hold them stiffly still at her sides.
In an attempt not to hyperfocus on that, she whispered, “You don’t expect it’ll come to that, do you?
” She knew he had very grave plans for her father.
Somehow, she didn’t expect he’d want to carry those plans out in the middle of her father’s office, when at least a dozen people had seen him enter the building.
“You never know.” He paused as they rounded the short foyer hall and the space opened up on either side of them.
A desk built into the far wall off to the left came into view.
His next words were quieter, but no less confident than ever.
“What matters is you have nothing to be afraid of, beautiful. Not anymore.”
It shouldn’t have been that easy to zap the tension from her system. It certainly never had been before. But her half-curled hands relaxed as if something inside her instinctively believed him—believed that this man dictated what did and did not have the authority to frighten her.
A woman popped up over the top edge of a curved computer monitor, as if only then noticing the three of them.
“Wait! You can’t just walk through here!
” She scurried out from around the also-curved, nicely polished desk until she was standing adjacent to them.
Not quite in their path, but inarguably ahead of their position.
She smoothed a hand down her pencil skirt.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Matsunaga doesn’t take walk-ins. He’s a very busy man.”
Reiko wasn’t sure if it was presumption or the fact that the woman was speaking directly to Santino like the rest of them didn’t exist, but to her surprise, she found the exchange fueled her fire rather than her nerves.
“We’re not walk-ins,” she said, projecting her voice.
“I’m his daughter, Reiko Matsunaga. He’s expecting me.
” She could have added that she was a bit early, but she didn’t feel it was necessary.
Her father always had harped that earlier was better.