Billionaire Boss, M.d.

Three

Antonio caught himself grinning again and again all the way back to his mansion in Holmby Hills.

Shaking his head for the umpteenth time since he’d left Liliana Accardi gaping at him as if he’d grown a spiked tail and leather wings and taken flight, he again wondered what the hell had happened in that parking lot. Actually, what the hell had happened since she’d blasted him in that meeting room.

This wasn’t what he’d envisioned at all. Not after everything had gone according to plan. At first.

He’d made the bid on the lab, knowing he’d find no resistance. He’d finalized everything in record time before moving to the next phase—conquering his new subordinates. He’d done that, too, with more acceptance than his best projections, thanks to his long-perfected methods of making people do his bidding.

He’d started practicing his influence from childhood when he’d been in the clutches of The Organization, which had taken him and hundreds of children to turn them into lethal mercenaries. Even among his brotherhood, as unyielding as they were, he’d enjoyed a unique position of power. While Phantom—Numair now—had been the leader everyone deferred to, it had been Antonio everyone trusted to have the most levelheaded opinion. When he’d become their medical expert, they’d trusted him with their very lives.

He’d taken that skill into the outside world after they’d escaped The Organization. Normal people had been no match for the sway he’d honed with some of the world’s most shrewd and lethal people. He’d plowed through the worlds of medicine and business like a laser, being described by rivals and allies alike as irresistible and unstoppable. Not that he reached his goals through aggression or intimidation. He relied on persuasion and manipulation, so no one had a reason to fight him and every reason to succumb to him.

Among his brothers, he was the one who had an equally close and friction-free relationship with all. Yet he’d allowed not even them beyond the serene facade he’d refined.

They believed it was Wildcard—or Ivan Konstantinov as he now called himself—who knew Antonio fully, as he’d been closest to him since childhood. But Antonio hadn’t even let Ivan in on everything he’d been through or everything he was. He hadn’t told Ivan anything he was doing or planning now.

While the others had searched for their families, sought reunion with them and/or revenge on those who’d stolen them away, Ivan, who’d come to The Organization old enough to know his family, had elected not to contact his family once he’d been out. Antonio had elected not to bother with either finding his origins or seeking revenge. Or so he’d told his brothers. In reality, he’d found out everything about his family.

What he’d learned had made him think The Organization had done him a favor by abducting him. His Italian aristocracy family put its members through hell for appearances’ sake, which they enforced at any expense, even abandoning or destroying any of them who threatened their traditions and standing.

As they had him.

His mother’s pregnancy when she was seventeen had threatened their image. Her inappropriate lover had been dealt with, while she’d been taken away to avoid the scandal. The same day she’d given birth to him, he’d been given to an orphanage, from which he’d been culled by The Organization less than four years later. Up until that day he’d lived hoping his “real family” would find him.

It turned out he’d been better off with The Organization than in the Accardis’ sterile, cold-blooded environment where relationships were warped and members turned into shells of human beings. At least The Organization had let him pursue his true inclinations, what had made him who he was. It had been there he’d forged stronger-than-blood ties with his brothers, nothing like the pathological ones his family shared.

He’d at first decided to ignore the existence of the family that had wronged him so irretrievably. But after three of his brothers had found their roots and reunited with their own families, he’d begun to feel restless until he’d realized that he was being eaten alive with the need to even the score.

And to do that, he had to destroy the Accardis. Starting with his mother.

Agreeing to or at least accepting her family’s crime, she hadn’t attempted to search for him, had moved on instead and gotten married three times. She’d had legitimate offspring with each of her husbands as well as adopted children. The oldest was a man five years younger than him, the youngest a girl of twelve, making his crop of half siblings no less than six.

He’d planned to infiltrate the family anonymously, to exact up close and personal retribution on those who’d had a hand in his abandonment.

But the elitist snobs hadn’t opened up to him, not even with the bait of vital financial relief. Getting close to this family could be through the only way they allowed.

Through blood. Through a member.

After a thorough analysis of the extended family, he’d zeroed in on one member. Liliana Accardi.

Liliana was the daughter of Alberto Accardi, his mother’s third cousin. Her American mother had escaped Italy and the poisonous Accardi family when Liliana was only one and run back to the States. But after her mother’s death last year, the only child, family-less Liliana had started to reestablish relations with her father. The man who hadn’t bothered to see his daughter after he’d granted her mother a lucrative divorce was now eager to welcome her into his life. Surprisingly, the rest of the Accardis seemed as enthusiastic to invite her into the family. That had added to her potential use to Antonio.

Being a fellow doctor was another thing that had made her his best choice. And the fact that she’d graduated at the top of her class, but had ended up in a minor nonprofit lab battling impossible odds. Her quixotic tendencies had only made him consider her an even easier target. Everything else about her from looks to personal history had made her the most surefire as well as most tolerable vehicle for his needs.

He’d decided to approach her in a professional setting, bait her, snare her, then through her, enter the family, exact punishment from within, then walk away when they’d all paid, each to the exact measure he’d decide they deserved.

As for Liliana, she’d been wronged, too, if on an infinitely smaller scale. Though he’d despised her for seeking the family who’d driven her mother away and made Liliana grow up alone, to court their favor and inclusion, he’d intended to be lenient with her. If she provided him with a smooth ride to his life’s most anticipated surgery, that of excising the petrified heart of the family who’d thrown him away like so much garbage.

He’d had no doubt she’d fall at his feet like all subordinates, like all women. The plan was simple. He’d make a proposal she’d grab at. After all, it would make a much more convincing entry into her family if she was delirious at her phenomenal luck. Then when he broke it off, if she’d benefited him—and if she didn’t turn out to be another soulless Accardi or a greedy female—he’d compensate her handsomely.

Then he’d entered that meeting room, delivered his opening speech, and though he’d had the expected deference and delight from everyone else, he’d gotten none of the usual fluttering anticipation and adulation from her. Instead, she’d left him in no doubt of her reaction to his takeover, nor of her opinion of him.

From then on, everything had gone off the rails.

After his first surprise at her impassioned attack on his methods, history and person, he’d tried to overpower her, herd her back to his scripted pathway. Just as he’d thought he’d put her in the place where he needed her to stay, she’d retaliated with a more incontrovertible accusation.

Everything in him had surged to engage her full-on. But that would have been fodder for gossip and would have put him in a defensive position—something he’d never let himself be in. That had been when he’d realized he’d miscalculated.

The woman he’d thought would fall into his palm like a ripe plum had turned out to be a prickly pear.

A change of strategy had been in order.

But for the first time in memory, he couldn’t come up with a course of action but to dismiss her. So he’d let her final words hang there in the conference room without a rebuttal from him. That confrontation had ended with the score of Liliana Accardi one, him nothing.

He had decided to resume her conquest the next day, after he’d upgraded his plan. But he’d itched with impatience, all his senses trained on her, the only one of the staff to avoid him. He’d pretended he hadn’t noticed her as she’d kept her distance on her way out, when in truth he’d noticed nothing but her.

At one point, when she’d been closest to him, his resolve to ignore her had almost broken down. But he’d managed to let her walk out without doing something stupid.

Then he’d noticed the folder.

He’d realized adjusting his plan might be for nothing. This contrary woman might not be giving him another day. She’d forced him to pursue her there and then.

He’d still been certain that once he had her one-on-one, he’d bring her back in line. But the more he’d tried, the more she’d forced him to improvise, and the more he had, the further away from his desired results he’d gotten.

Not only hadn’t he managed to overwhelm her, she’d taken him by surprise again and again. He’d found himself reacting without the least premeditation, something he never did. Then he’d found himself guffawing like a fool. He hadn’t meant to laugh, but her unfiltered responses had been so unexpected and droll, she’d been the one to overpower his control and intent.

Not that his unprecedented spontaneity had earned him any leniency. Her disapproval and resistance had only increased until she’d swung the wrecking ball of her “I quit” right into him.

And she’d meant it. He’d been certain she had.

Just as he’d thought he was down to coercion, she’d done that most ridiculous thing, offering him the money she had on her. After his initial perplexity, it had been like a light had burst inside him, illuminating the tunnel of dwindling options she’d squeezed him in. How to end this impasse on a high note. His solution, not to mention its effect on her when he’d declared it, had brightened his mood in a way he hadn’t felt in...ever.

Suddenly, the grin stretching his lips since he’d left her in that parking lot froze.

He might have decided to change the dynamics of dealing with her, but if he’d learned anything about Liliana Accardi so far, it was that she cared nothing about his power or wealth or what she could gain from them. To her, he was nothing but the invader who’d stormed into and defiled what she considered her home.

His parting shot might have been the worst thing he could have said. That defiant creature could now be working herself into a lather, more determined than ever not to return to the lab.

When the limo stopped, his mood was blacker than it had ever been, even during his worst days in The Organization.

Seething in uncharacteristic exasperation, he heaved out of the car and strode inside his mansion, thunderclouds roiling through his veins.

Damn that Liliana Accardi.

He’d picked her as the easy-to-tame lab rat, and she’d turned out to be an impossible-to-curb hellcat.

He had no time for a struggle with her. She wasn’t even his target, just a means to an end. But instead of a solution, she’d turned out to be an insoluble problem.

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.

She shouldn’t have given in to the urge to seek release. It had done nothing but inflame her more. Her body throbbed like an exposed nerve, every movement triggering an avalanche of responses. Now sexual awareness was stamped all over her.

Hoping the drive to the lab would dampen her condition, she cursed herself, Antonio and the whole world and headed there. It felt like she was about to sever a chunk of herself and leave it behind. But she had to do it.

She’d try to continue her work elsewhere. If she couldn’t, whatever she decided to do then would be her choice, not his. That it would be a choice he’d forced her into would still be better than being forced to do what he wanted now.

Arriving at the lab, she realized from everyone’s unusually zippy behavior that he was there. Probably setting up his boss area for whenever he came to inspect. No doubt he was also expecting her to obey his directive. The rat had gotten to her through her best friend so he’d corner her.

Well, it hadn’t worked. It was 4:00 p.m. already, and when he got the confrontation he wished for after she’d gathered her stuff, she’d make sure it would be their last face-off.

As she headed to her lab, she noticed everyone was looking at her differently, with incredulousness and something else...a new kind of courtesy, perhaps? The only explanation was that he’d taken his joke too far, had told everyone what he’d told her yesterday.

Annoyance with all of them, especially with him, mushroomed as she pushed into her lab...and felt as if her brain had hit a brick wall.

Antonio sat at her desk. His gaze collided with hers at once, as if he’d been waiting for her to walk in.

“Is this how late you’ll be coming in from now on?”

Every nerve in her body fired at the combo of his jaw-dropping beauty and his teasing remonstration.

Before she could consider a comeback, he uncoiled to his formidable height, approached in that indolent predator’s prowl, his lips twisting. “I didn’t expect you to change to partner mode that quickly. But then you never do anything I expect. I like it. Immensely.”

Forcing herself to move as he came to a stop before her, she unhooked her backpack and circumvented him. Without looking back at him, she started emptying her station, every nerve jangling in alarm as he came closer.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” When she didn’t answer him, he harrumphed. “I enjoy your unexpectedness up to a point. That point is when you use it to deprive me of it. This, Dr. Accardi, I won’t sanction.”

Packing her last article, she yanked the zipper closed, then looked up. Though she’d braced herself, she felt gut-punched to behold his gorgeousness up close, now smoldering hotter with disapproving authority. Forcing steadiness into her stance, she pulled an envelope from her backpack’s outer pocket, and thrust it out at him.

It was déjà vu when he glowered at it, but when he raised his eyes, there was no questioning. He knew what that was.

“I’m not accepting your resignation, Dr. Accardi.” His lips crooked into that smile that had her insides liquefying. “Not to mention it would take far more than a piece of paper now to terminate our partnership.”

Grinding her teeth at the throbbing between her legs, she thrust her other hand palm-up at him. This time, he raised a questioning eyebrow, making her want to yank that regal head down and bite that perfect wing of provocation.

“My three hundred dollars, please.”

“Buying back your shares?” At her nod, he laughed, and her legs almost gave out. “You think your money spent a whole night with me and remained the same?”

Images bombarded her, of spending a whole night with him and being changed forever. Even if he hadn’t meant for her to think that, she did. The man was sex personified. She had to face the fact that she’d walk out of here, never to see him again, and would forever pleasure herself to his memory.

Gritting her teeth, she kept her hand outstretched. “My money, please. This is no longer remotely funny.”

“It’s the most fun I’ve ever had. And I don’t have your money on me. I don’t walk around with three hundred thousand dollars in my pockets.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Not even you can multiply stock by a factor of a thousand overnight!”

“You’d be very impressed by what I can do over the course of one night.” Her blood boiled over before he added, “But you’re right. I was exaggerating. Your money is now around thirty thousand dollars. Still don’t have that much on me.”

“Keep it, capital and investment. Consider it my contribution to whatever good science you develop.”