Billionaire Boss, M.D. (The Billionaires of Blackcastle 5)

If she insisted on defying him, he’d let her quit. But he’d make sure she’d find no other job in the country. Hell, on earth. She’d either work for him or she could go flip burgers. He’d put her in her place, doing exactly what he thought her good for. Then he’d search for a more amenable member of the Accardis as his bridge into that accursed family.

It was only an hour later, under the beating needles of a punishing jet shower, when he found himself stroking a painfully hard erection to an explosive climax to the memory of the mutinous passion in Liliana’s eyes, that he realized his plan was inapplicable.

Logic said he should consider her a lost cause. But this volcanic lust she’d provoked in him—more inexplicable because it was for her being, not her body, which he hadn’t even properly seen—made it impossible for him to walk away from her or let her walk away from him. It was the last thing he’d thought would happen, but he wanted that aggravating, uncontrollable rebel.

It no longer mattered to him why he’d wanted to tame and acquire her in the first place. All that mattered to him now was that he did. For his own pleasure.

He’d never done anything for his own pleasure.

High time he did. And Liliana Accardi, that intractable creature, the first one to ever defy and spurn him, was the perfect place to start.

* * *

Lili ended the phone call with Brian and pinched the bridge of her nose, hard.

She didn’t need this. Not after the night she’d had.

After Antonio Balducci had left her feeling punch-drunk, she’d driven home, garnering way more honks from disgruntled drivers than she usually did. She’d never gotten used to driving in LA. Never gotten used to living in that house. All she could think of was it was time to let it all go. Let her mother’s memory and everything she’d built in this city go.

That was all she could think when she could focus on anything but Antonio Balducci. When every word he’d said to her, every look, every inflection of his voice and peal of his laughter hadn’t been revolving in her mind like a mini tornado.

She’d arrived at the house exhausted in a way she hadn’t been since her mother’s final days. But her fatigue hadn’t been soaked with despondence, but with jittery restlessness.

Antonio had messed her up but good. And he’d known it. He’d almost skipped away knowing he’d shut her up and had the last word this time.

If she’d surprised him with her resistance, he’d shocked her with his response.

See you tomorrow, partner.

Indeed!

When she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d fallen into a turbulent realm filled with heart-hammering glimpses and whispers and touches. All of him.

She’d woken up burning and wet, sure he’d meant to invade her dreams. She’d never squirmed for release like that, but had drawn the line at seeking it. He could rule her subconscious, but she was damned if she’d consciously give him that power over her, even if only she would know about it.

At least that was what she’d told herself until she’d sought the relief of a hot bath and ended up bringing herself to an unprecedented orgasm to his memory.

Damn him.

She’d been still trembling with aftershocks when Brian had called her. Antonio had asked him to let her know their first management meeting was at two sharp.

At Brian’s rabid curiosity, she’d said Antonio was just messing with her, as punishment for daring not to prostrate herself at his feet, like they’d all done. She doubted Brian bought that. Even when she believed it to be the truth.

She’d underestimated Antonio’s need for control. He’d pursued her to lasso her back when she’d dared be the only one who didn’t roll over and expose her belly. She’d struggled against his inexorable influence, trying to make him consider her a troublemaker not worth the effort it would take to subjugate her, to maintain his no doubt pristine dominance record. That had only backfired, judging by his parting shot.

Even then, she’d really thought she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. He might be obsessive when it came to getting his way, but she was certain he was too busy to bother with his employees again, especially rebellious ones. She’d thought he’d walk away and forget all about her, or remember her only as a weird creature who’d afforded him passing amusement. She’d been secure—and oppressively let down—that she’d never see him again.

Then Brian had called.

Antonio hadn’t been joking. Or maybe he had been, and he hadn’t finished yanking her chain yet. It appeared she entertained him, and it was equally obvious he hadn’t had enough of her diversion yet.

Problem was, she had to oblige him.

He was the one to give her the end-of-service releases, recommendations and payments. As much as she would have loved to not look back, she needed all that to be able to leave and survive until she found a new job.

After dressing in her most funereal outfit, she pulled her unruly hair—which seemed to have more red in its auburn depths to go with her mood—in a severe bun. Forgoing even the little makeup she usually wore, she winced at her reflection.

Now that she was aware how she looked to others, she could see that everything she felt was emblazoned on her face. Aversion, aggression, anticipation and, dammit, arousal.