Page 43 of Seducing Her Scarred Boss

But it wasn’t the only reason. There was the totally selfish reason as well—to have her for the weekend, all to himself. With no one else making demands on her, no interruptions, no brother or sister or mother calling all the time, scheduling errands for her to run. No, she was here for whenhewanted. And he wanted her all the time.

He took her on the floor then and there. With her naked other than the beautiful necklace—the blue burning into him as he moved closer, closer still. He couldn’t resist touching, couldn’t stop touching.

He went back to the vineyards early the next day but finished up hours before he ought to. It didn’t matter, much of what he needed could be done by phone. It was more just to see the team face to face. But his mind was elsewhere—and his body ached to catch up with it.

Not good. He rebelled against the unfettered need rising inside. Where was his restraint? His self-control was slipping. It was all wrong—he’d worked so long to gain mastery over his emotions. So why wasn’t the passion waning? Why was it getting worse?

* * *

‘Come for a run.’

Sophy looked up as Lorenzo stalked in. The electricity in the room surged—she wouldn’t have been surprised if all the light bulbs had suddenly blown. ‘Is exercise your answer to everything?’

‘It is if I’m stuck on a problem or angry or something—it works for me.’

And was he stuck on a problem now, or feeling something stronger? ‘You get angry a bit, Lorenzo?’

‘I used to.’

Maybe he’d had a bit to be angry about. Casually she put down the pliers. ‘Tell me about it.’

He looked at her, his eyes like burnt black holes. ‘What is there to tell, Sophy? I was my father’s punch bag. Eventually I got taken away but went from foster home to foster home. I didn’t adjust well.’

She stared, shocked at the sudden revelation, at the painful viciousness underlying the plain statement of facts. Not many people would ‘adjust’ to that.

He looked uncomfortable, twisting away from her. ‘But I’m not like him. I’ve never hit a woman, Sophy. And I’ve never hit anyone who wasn’t hitting me first.’

He didn’t need to tell her that. ‘And you don’t get angry any more?’

He relaxed a fraction. ‘I prefer to get passionate.’

Yeah, he channelled his aggression elsewhere.

‘Passionate about exercise,’ she teased softly, wanting to lighten his mood. She knew his bio in the company literature was tellingly sparse. Now she saw his work with the Whistle Fund revealed far more. Art camps, for one thing. Sports days. All the work geared to underprivileged, at risk kids. He identified with them. He’dbeenone. ‘Did you get into trouble?’

‘Totally.’

‘What things did you do?’

He didn’t answer.

‘How bad?’

‘A few stupid things.’ He was fudging it. ‘The school was good.’

‘What kind of stupid things?’ Sophy leaned towards him. ‘Graffiti?’

His grin flashed. ‘You figured it out?’

‘You have that place totally secure—there are security cameras, you live on site. And that massive piece appears overnight? No way would you have let that happen.’

He shrugged. ‘You got me.’

‘You’re quite good.’ He was better than good. ‘Spray cans?’

He nodded. ‘But I wipe my own slate clean now. And I only decorate my own property.’

‘What else?’

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