Page 26 of Take Me Under

His piercing gaze remained fixed on mine. I was exposed in my khaki capris and off-the-shoulder sweater. My cheeks flushed deeper under the intense examination. I couldn’t decipher the thoughts behind his stoic expression, but a hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes. His unrelenting stare made me suddenly aware of every movement I made.

“Who are you, Serena Martinelli?” he asked, breaking the tense silence.

“I’m sorry?”

His eyes shone with a predatory gleam as his hand traced thecurve of my shoulder. I bit down on my lower lip, my heart seeming to stop at his touch.

“You’re nervous,” he said in a deep, throaty voice.

“No, I’m not.” The lie was obvious.

“Why are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid. Cautious would be a better word. I don’t know the first thing about you. My surroundings are unfamiliar and you’re…”

You’re making me feel things I shouldn’t feel.

But I didn’t complete the sentence. I couldn’t.

“I’m what?” he pressed.

“Nothing.” Unable to withstand his blistering gaze, I turned my head and focused on the undefined gold veins in the black marble countertop.

“Look at me, princess,” he demanded, using one hand to turn my chin toward him. There was something dark and dangerous lurking behind those piercing onyx eyes, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me.

My insides trembled. I couldn’t speak. I was a complete mess. The air was thick and suffocating, making it hard for me to breathe. His nearness clouded my senses, shattering any intelligent or rational thought. I tried to take a step back, but he grabbed hold of my hand and held it firmly.

He leaned in closer, and his breath warmed the side of my neck. The scent of pine mingled with something fresh and clean enveloped me. It was intoxicating and left me feeling helpless.

“I want to suggest something,” he murmured. “But I can’t help but feel like it will be a bad idea.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He pulled away and took a moment before responding, as if selecting his words carefully.

“I’ve been around women my whole life. I usually have no problem understanding them, but you’re a puzzle.” A sardonic grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s a puzzle I want tosolve, and that includes learning why you were at the Met Gala. You mentioned seeking investors.”

“Oh, um. Ye—yes,” I stuttered, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. It felt like ages since that night, yet it was the sole reason I’d come to America in the first place.

“I want to hear more about it. But not right now. It’s been a long couple of days, and I need to get some sleep. We’ll have dinner together—tonight. Be ready to go at seven.”

I blinked at the finality in his tone.

Did he just order me to have dinner with him?

It was as if there would be no discussion about it whatsoever. I bristled. Instinct wanted me to resist. I wasn’t one to take orders without question.

But that was a different version of myself. Things had changed, and I was in no position to challenge anyone—especially someone like Anton. He wanted to know why I was at the gala, and that question opened the door to a discussion I desperately needed to have. Anton had money—and lots of it. He might be the solution to all my financial problems.

I most likely wouldn’t get a flight out until tomorrow or the day after at the earliest. What harm could come from having a simple dinner with the man? I had to eat, after all, and I’d be foolish to squander the golden opportunity.

He took a few steps back and I exhaled, suddenly able to breathe again.

“I suppose I can do that,” I agreed, my mind already spinning with ideas of how to pitch my proposal to him.

Anton nodded, looking pleased as if the matter were settled.

“Good. Now, since I’ve allowed you to take over my bedroom, I’m going to lie down in one of the guestrooms. Feel free to use the penthouse to do what you need to do. However, my office is off limits. The wi-fi is my last name, R-O-M-A-N-O. The password is Rebecca67, capital R.”

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