Chapter 3
There’sa point in some fights when you should tap out. When you admit you can’t win…and that moment is now.
I don’t know who this heart-stopping man is in the doorway, holding Gia on his arm like she’s his daughter, too, but holy sex in a linen suit.
Seeing Luca again today is like lasting five rounds in a title fight. I don’t know how much more I can take. My emotions are pummeled. My heart is exhausted. My aroused body can’t fight the effect Luca has on me.
And now this?
This man, too?
I don’t need to know who he is because it’s clear—he’s trouble. A tall, sexy pile of trouble in an ecru linen suit with stylish, dark hair and a trimmed beard. His deep brown eyes flicker with mischief at the sight of me and Charlie. He’s almost as tan and imposing as Luca, but he’s different.
When Luca scowls, this man smirks. He’s a scoundrel, I can tell.
“Who are our new friends?” he asks Gia, and that’s one positive for the mystery man.
I can sense it. He’s not a creep. He genuinely cares for the little girl in his arms.
“That’s Scarlett with the mermaid hair.” Gia points to me, and I chuckle. It’s not the first time I’ve been compared to Ariel, The Little Mermaid. But long, red hair is where the similarities end.
I’m not giving up my voice for any man. Or my tail.
Okay, I already gave my tail to Luca, but never again.
“And she’s Uncle Red’s friend, Charlie,” Gia chirps, pointing to my boss, “the one with the really fat belly.”
Charlie starts laughing while Luca quickly chides. “Gia, Charlie is not fat. That’s not a nice word. She’s pregnant. She has a baby in her belly.”
Gia scrunches her nose. “How did a baby get in her belly?”
“Oh shit,” Luca mutters, realizing his flub before he answers her, “I’ll tell you tonight.”
Watching Luca with his arms and legs stretched across his ivory sofa, I like this side of him. The side when his daughter has him against the ropes.
This morning, I went from shock to disgust to rage to compassion for Luca in minutes.
He’s not a cheat.
He’s a widower.
But still…
Luca made me feel everything. He made me feel special. And then he left me feeling used. That’s the pain I fight. I recognize it now when I see this new side of him, the Dad side, and of course, Luca makes it look so alpha and so damn sexy, too; I’d let him breed me a dozen times. And that’ll never happen, making this pain even worse.
I’m forever stuck in limbo with him.
“But how did a baby get in her belly, and how will it get out?” Gia asks, “Will she poop it out?”
Gia’s not stopping with her questions, and I quickly adore her. So does Charlie. Gia’s going to be fun. She will keep me on my toes, and hell, yes, I’d lay my life down for this cute girl.
“Yeah, Baba.” Hot-as-fuck man #2 piles on with a smirk. “How did the baby get in the pretty lady’s belly?”
Luca sneers at him, “Don’t start.”
He taunts, “But I want you to give me the talk tonight, too.”
“I bet you do,” Luca answers, and whoever this guy is, I like him. I don’t trust him…but I like him.
“But Baba, tell us now.” Gia squirms in his arms. “You’re being mean to Zar again.”
“I’m not mean to Zar,” Luca rumbles. “We’re best friends,” he huffs, “and Gia, what did I tell you about business? It’s not time for playing yet.”
“Talking isn’t playing,” she sasses back.
This Zar guy scoffs, “Wanna bet?”
“Gamóto,” Luca mutters, throwing his chin. And though I don’t understand what he cursed, it’s like Celine can smell his distress.
She appears in the doorway, saying something in French while she takes Gia from Mr. Playful’s arms. Then they disappear down the hallway, rescuing Luca from an impromptu birds-and-the-bees discussion, egged on by his naughty friend. The same one who crosses the room, extending his hand to shake Charlie’s first.
“Zar Rollins,” he says, “nice to meet you, and sorry for the pregnancy joke, but I take every shot at this asshole I can get.”
He nods toward Luca, and my eyes flick his way. Luca’s not smiling at him, but his eyes are amused.
“Nice to meet you,” Charlie greets him.
But when he aims my way, there’s too much damn delight in this stranger’s brown eyes…as if he knows my secret.
Did Luca tell him about us?
No, he couldn’t have. Luca didn’t know I’d be his daughter’s P.O. So why the hell is this man shaking my hand as a stranger but smirking at me like he knows that I’ve already fucked my forbidden client…several times?
But I won’t be intimidated.
“Czar?” I ask him. “Like a Russian Czar? That’s an unusual name.”
“No.” He plops into the blue velvet chair beside me. “Zar. For Balthazar, and I’ll punch anyone who calls me by the name my parents cursed me with.”
I huff…like I’m threatened.
“Just don’t take a swing at Ms. Jones.” Luca slides his admiring eyes my way. “Apparently,” he says, “you won’t win because our bodyguard is a titled fighter.”
He reads it in my shocked eyes.
Did he just blow my cover?
So he explains, “Zar is the only one who knows why you’re really here. He’d never let anything happen to Gia either. He’s my best friend and CFO. We were roommates in college and have no secrets.”
Great, that means Luca will be updating Zar later, over thousand-dollar whisky, I’m sure. They’ll talk long into the night about the salacious details. Like how I fingered myself, sucking Luca’s cock while three other men with their bare, hard cocks surrounded me too, and it made me come so hard, being that dirty for Luca.
“Such a bad girl for me, aren’t you?” Luca praised me that night. “Show them. Suck your sweet cum off your dirty fingers. That’s it. Now play with your pretty nipples while they watch you choke on me some more.”
I never touched those other men, stroking off at the shameless sight of me, but god, how they wanted me to. And damn, how it got me off how Luca loved the fact—I was his.
But not anymore.
Minute by minute, I’m stepping farther into Luca’s life, and this job, and there’s no turning back now.
Casually, Luca updates Zar, “Ms. Jones will need an office next to mine and a private suite on the executive floor.”
But I catch it. They exchange a knowing look, and I do the same with Charlie.
Does she feel it, too?
A couple of years ago, when I was her detail, Charlie said HGR was lucky to have me, not just for my fighting skills. Anyone can learn those. She said it was for my instincts. I’ve got a good one about people, and so does she.
Our eyes silently speak, sensing it now. There’s something between Luca and Zar. History and work, obviously, but something more. A bond. A secret.
Whatever it is…
I have to work between these men?
HIF #5: They’re so hot, they’ll melt me like the cream in an Oreo.
My panties won’t stand a chance of dryness.
“So, how does a woman become a MMA fighter?” Zar asks me, crossing his legs like a gentleman, and I half-believe his act.
I always get this question, and I used to be embarrassed by my answer. But with this job, not anymore. I’m proud of who I’ve become.
“I took an iron skillet to the skull of my stepfather. I caught him…” I pause at the memory, clenching my molars, “abusing my youngest sister while my mom was at work. It was either him or us, and like hell, I’d let him hurt my sisters. I almost killed him, and at sixteen, that landed me in a judge’s chambers. She didn’t know what to do with my rage. But instead of juvie, she had a friend who ran a gym. He taught me how to fight with control, and the rest is history.”
Zar nods, his eyes combing down my body before his chin juts toward my face. “Is that where that scar came from? The one over your eye?”
“Damn,” Charlie scoffs, “you got big balls asking a woman about her scars.”
Suddenly, we’re all humbled, knowing how Charlie got the scar on her cheek and the ones you can’t see. Her story exploded in the press years ago, and I’m proud of how she handled it.
“My apologies.” Zar surrenders. “I mean no offense. Scars are survival, something to be proud of in my book.”
“I got this beauty from someone’s elbow in a fight,” I answer him. “But it was a concussion from an illegal knee to my skull that ended my fighting career. Especially when this better job came along.”
“We recruited Ms. Jones,” Charlie interjects. “Women are rare in this profession, and we need more of them.”
Zar drawls, “Well, you sure got your work cut out for you now.”
He sounds like he’s from Texas but doesn’t dress like it. I fight not to admire his washboard abs, thinly veiled by his stylish white T-shirt. I like his style. It’s all business casual meets spread-your-legs-for-me, darlin’. While Luca’s style is all power, all bend-over-my-desk-like-a-whore-for-your-Master fashion.
I try not to remember how Luca said that exact thing to me, minus the desk part. It was a sofa.
I try…but fail.
“Luca has two paparazzi outside that stalk his every move,” Zar informs us, “and one crazed woman banned from our hotel. We have a restraining order against her, but it doesn’t stop her. We catch her sneaking in all the time.”
Charlie’s brows shoot up, challenging Luca. “You never told me about this threat.”
“She’s not a threat,” Luca scoffs. “She’s just obsessed. It’s harmless.”
“Obsession isn’t harmless,” Charlie warns. “I barely survived it. Twice.”
“I can take care of myself,” Luca replies. “But that’s why I need Scarlett, I mean, Ms. Jones. I need Ms. Jones to protect my daughter.”
“What does this woman look like?” I ask.
“Oh, we have a file on her. I’ll show you,” Zar replies. “But it doesn’t stop her. She comes up with clever disguises and checks in under different names. Our front desk staff is pretty good at spotting her, but a couple of times, she got through. But even when we catch her, a judge just slaps her hand, and she’s back, trying to sneak through our doors again.”
“What does she do while she’s here?” I have to know because if I thought my instinct was firing about Zar and Luca—which it is—it’s an exploding transformer with live wires popping over this.
Something about this feels dangerous, and Charlie’s serious face agrees.
“She left photos on my desk,” Luca answers me, making Zar chuckle, clarifying, “Very explicit photos.”
“And she left something in my car in the parking deck once,” Luca adds.
“A pair of her…um…moist panties.” Zar starts laughing while he shares, “And the biggest dildo I’ve ever seen. Apparently, she enjoyed herself in Luca’s Benz and left the dildo, her panties, and the evidence of her joy all over his leather driver’s seat.”
Now, both men are amused, but I’m not. “Do you know her?”
They exchange another one of those damn secret looks, and now Luca’s laughing. I’ve never seen him laugh, and if I weren’t so concerned, I’d swoon. He’s beautiful when he’s happy.
“Yes,” Luca answers me, “Zar dated her.”
“For a hot second,” he protests, “until I realized she was unhinged.”
“Is that how she knows Mr. Mercier?”
I use his business name because that’s what this is: my business. Serious business. I’m not judging dildos and photos and public anything. I got no room.
But disguises? Being banned and having a restraining order issued by a lenient judge? And why is she obsessed with Luca and not Zar if Zar’s the one who dated her?
“We don’t know.” Zar shrugs. “It’s tough to say because everyone knows who Luca Mercier is. He’s global catnip. Yeah, he’s got billions people want, but it seems women really lose their kitties over single dads.”
Luca rolls his eyes.
“And apparently,” Zar adds, “Luca’s not hard to look at either.”
That makes Luca narrow his gaze, and Zar winks back.
Yep, I smell a secret.