Chapter 26

It’s late afternoon, and I’m pacing on the upper deck in a mix of agitation and anger. I’m filled with a turmoil of emotions, and I want to scream.

“I’m not talking to you!” I pout childishly, rage beginning to grow inside me at his confession. Turning away from him on the boat’s main deck, I pull my sarong tightly around my waist and tie it off with an angry tug.

“Bambina, please.” He tries to catch my arm, but I storm away. He stifles a laugh and comes at me again, “You’re really mad at me?” He sounds like he’s in disbelief that I could actually be angry over this.

I forgot how obtuse he could be.

He catches my face in his hands, trying to bring me to him, and croons at me softly, his baby voice coming on strong. It only makes me madder, so I shove his hands off and glare at him.

“Baby? Bambina? Don’t be like that.” He tries to kiss me, sucking my bottom lip seductively, but I shrug him off and bat him away. His doe-eyed, faux boyish look is completely lost on me while I’m furious beyond words.

Forget it, Carrero. That does nothing for me right now.

“Go away, leave me alone,” I snap and walk toward the metal railing of the boat. I want to smack him over the head; instead, I grip the railing with a vengeance until my knuckles turn white. He has no idea how insane he can make me.

He had no right to interfere without even asking me. He should have told me long before now.

“Emma? You didn’t want him in your life. I did what I thought you’d want. He wanted money, so I gave it to him on the understanding he would stay away.” He catches my arm this time and hauls me around to face him. “Il mio tesoro, bambina, ti amo.” He’s trying to sweet-talk me.

“Fuck off with your fancy foreign words,” I spit childishly, pushing him away, my hands flat on his exposed torso. “I can’t even speak Italian, so for all I know, you’re calling me names!” I try to tug my arm out of his grasp, but he only pulls me closer, smiling indulgently as though I’m a child throwing a tantrum. In a way, I feel like one and could easily stamp my feet all over his right now. I’m seething.

“Do you want to see him?” he asks, trying a different approach to distract me from what he’s done. He raises his eyebrows in question, and I hesitate.

Not a chance, Carrero. I’m seething with you!

“No! But it still gave you no right to pay off that asshole. He’s my biological father; it should have been up to me to cut him off for good.” I give up trying to pull my arm free and turn my body away, so I don’t have to look at him as tears fill my eyes.

“Okay, you’re pissed because I didn’t tell you. You’re right. I did it without consulting you. But at the time, Emma, you were only my PA, and we could barely talk about this stuff without you storming off and clamping shut,” he says, pleading his case as he strokes back my hair and turns my face to him. He sounds remorseful, but I’m not done being angry about this.

Doesn’t he see how much this hurts me? It’s not what he did, but rather that my biological sperm donor father happily took his money and agreed never to contact me again for the rest of my life.

Jake is getting my rage, but it’s my father I’m seething at.

“How much?” I snap, still facing away from him. “How much money did you give him? How much did you flush down the toilet?” I snap, my heart crumbling in agony as it all starts to sink in.

I suspect he would have happily taken a couple of thousand dollars to walk away. He was that pathetic.

What was I worth? Ten thousand at the most? Less? He would have agreed to a meager five hundred when he approached me not so long ago.

“I gave him what I thought was a reasonable amount to stay away. I didn’t give him a chance to ask for an amount; it would have pissed me off more.” He smooths my hair back again, pausing as I shrug him away and only continuing when I am still, persistent in trying to tame me.

“What am I worth then?” I retort, emotion breaking in my voice as pain sears through my chest like a hot spear.

Do I even want to know? Could it be any more humiliating than this?

“I would have given him millions, baby. To me, there’s no limit to your worth. My lawyers gave him five hundred thousand dollars and made him sign a contract agreeing to stay away indefinitely,” he says, so matter-of-factly.

I spin around in shock, blanching at him.

“You gave him how much?” I choke as my body turns cold.

That’s half a million dollars! Jake gave that slimy weasel half a million goddamn dollars?

The blood drains from my face.

Why would he do that? Why would he give him so much money? For me?

“I would have given him twenty times that much if he’d refused to go,” he says tenderly, “To me, you’re priceless. There isn’t enough money in the world to make me walk away from you. I hoped he would put up a fight.” He smooths my hair again. I don’t pull away this time, too busy with my eyes glued to his face, my brow creased.

“Jake, that’s so much money.” I am bewildered, shaking my head at his shrug. I can’t get over the shock and the disbelief.

“It’s just money, baby.” Jake turns me in his arms, so I face him fully. Loosely draping his arms around my shoulders with his hands hanging down behind me, he rests his arms out straight on my slender frame.

Only someone with too much money could make a statement like that!

“You didn’t have to; you’re crazy.” I stare down at his abdomen, a place to focus while calming my rambling thoughts. His tanned, naked skin is a good focus point, and I inhale steadily to calm myself.

“Get used to it; I haven’t even shown you half the crazy things I get up to.” I glance up at his humorous tone and shake my head at his smile. As an adrenaline junkie and racing car addict, I’m sure I could guess what he means. I exhale it all away.

***

“He took the first offer, right?” I ask, swallowing down the pain my question gives me, trying to numb the biting lump of heaviness in my stomach and sniff the watery emotions away, refusing to break over that man.

“Yes, he did! They low-balled what I told them to give him because they figured he would negotiate an amount above that. He didn’t.” He’s angry at the memory. His eyes change to the darkest greens, betraying his rage under his scowl. “He’s lucky he never met me face-to-face.”

I turn away this time, his arms sliding away as my emotions well up from somewhere deep inside, and a tear trickles down my face despite my efforts.

I can’t believe Jake gave him half a million dollars. I wasn’t even his girlfriend; I was only his PA. He did that for me anyway, regardless of everything else we had going on back then. My Carrero. He is so stupidly rich, sometimes, he’s on a different planet from me.

“I’m not really mad at you, Jake,” I sniff. “Well, I am now I know how much money you threw away. I’m mad at him.” Caving as his arms come around me from behind, his face nuzzling my neck, I cry softly. I cover his hands with my own and savor the feeling of him around me. He has no idea how it feels to have someone who’s supposed to love you from birth reject you repeatedly.

My father used me as a way to get money. I always knew he would; I just didn’t think Jake would be the one to give it to him.

“I wish you could see how little that guy deserves even to call you his daughter. He’s scum. He’s nothing. The money was nothing, dolcezza. It was worth keeping him out of your life and stopping him from causing you more pain. I hated him upsetting you, and he never once got to know anything about you, did he? If he had, then there isn’t anything in the world that could have torn him away from you because you’re amazing. You deserved a real father—someone who would have done anything to be in your life. He’s not that guy, and it’s no reflection on you, bambina, trust me,” he says calmly, tenderly, breathing against my neck softly.

“Just stop doing things like this without telling me,” I scold, but there’s no anger anymore, only deflation in my voice. Sadness always makes me tired.

“I’m sorry, Bella. It was before you were mine. I did what I thought you needed me to do as your friend. I won’t keep anything from you ever again. I promise.” He kisses my neck, and I close my eyes, relaxing into his touch, softened by how he always knows how to calm me and stop my mind from overanalyzing myself into desperation.

I shift in his arms and fully hug him, savoring his naked skin on my bikini-clad body. Hot, smooth, and strong. Tingles and aches flow through me so easily, taking my mind far from the topic, hurting me, and my insides responding on some primal level.

“Make me laugh. Distract me,” I whisper against him, indicating that I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to think about that creep any longer. I bury my face against his chest.

For the last few days, making me laugh is all he’s done. Even over stupid, tiny disagreements, he somehow manages to take it away and get me to smile and laugh. I want that more than ever right now, to remove this heavy knot in my stomach at the realization my father was the scum I always believed him to be, the disappointment I always knew he was.

Moving suddenly, he bends down and picks me up and over his shoulder swiftly, making me squeal. Holding my thighs with a strong arm, he strides to the side of the boat. He opens the railings and jumps into the ocean, taking me with him, sarong and all, even his sunglasses nestled on top of my head.

“I said ‘laugh,’ not ‘drown’!” I cough, grinning and spitting out warm salty water when we resurface. He has his arms around me lightly, treading water so we stay afloat, wiping droplets from his face. Devilish and grinning, his hair is infuriatingly still in place, the boyfriend with the indestructible hair. I really should investigate Carrero grooming products.

“You’re smiling, so I got it half right.” He grins, kissing me solidly. “Want to have sex in the sea?” He pulls my body closer to him so my legs are around his waist and my arms are around his neck. He feels hot, smooth, and inviting even in the cooler water. “Again? Oh, if we must,” I answer demurely as if it’s the most boring request known to man, but my body is clenching in anticipation, and I have a huge grin on my face.

The best way to get over an upset is to have my fit and sexy Jake make love to me. It works wonders every time.

His eyes move to my lips as he focuses on them for a few seconds. I’m fascinated by the clearest green of their depths and how his pupils contract and dilate as he thinks about something. His expression is so serious. A smile breaks across his handsome face as he places a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth. He lets me go, pulls my hand, and makes me swim after him toward the boat's edge.

“Where are we going? I thought you wanted to… Ummm…play in the sea?” I query, following him.

“You’re right. We’ve done it a few times in the water now…figured I would try something new with you, tiny.” Disappointment tugs at me. I like it when he makes love to me in the sea; it’s wild and erotic, even if it’s not very lubricating, but a sense of exhilaration rises instead. ‘New’ with Jake could be anything; he has no end to the sexual positions he puts me in nor his experimentation. I also have no qualms about letting him, trusting him always.

I follow him up the chrome ladder onto the boat, water pouring down my skin, my sarong molded to my legs. The sunglasses are surprisingly still stuck in my hair. He turns when he gets to the top and helps me up the last few rungs before leading me, hand in hand, to our bedroom on the lower deck.

Walking into the darkened room, he leaves me standing in the middle of the floor with a command to wait while he goes. I pick up a towel and dry myself off quickly, peeling off the sarong and throwing it into the laundry basket. I pull the sunglasses from my tangled hair and lay them on the vanity for safekeeping. I’m rather partial to his sunglasses.

He returns carrying a black velvet bag and throws it on the bed, spilling the contents over the sheets. I shiver with nerves as I look at it. We’ve never included anything in our sex sessions, just him and me, and now he has some sort of collection of Gothic-looking cuffs and straps. I narrow my eyes and glance at him questioningly, suddenly wary.

“They’re not mine before you start freaking out, thinking I’m some sort of Mr. Grey hiding some red room obsessions.” He grins, “The staff found them after the last time we were here. I think they belonged to that porn chick.”

“Miracle?” I laugh at the memory of the bimbo with the high-pitched squeal, Daniel Hunter’s ‘date’ for that trip.

Jake nods down at the things on the bed and says,

“Do you trust me?” He moves forward so we’re nose-to-nose and lightly grazes my lips with his. “Trust me to tie you up?”

“I’m not so sure anymore.” I giggle, gazing past him at the pile of restraining devices, and there seems to be a blindfold too. I swallow and sigh. “Yes, Jake, I trust you.” I exhale quietly as he kisses me hard, then lifts me to straddle his waist and carries me to the bed.

“Good, because I’m going to handcuff you to my bed and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. In a very loving way, of course.” He drops me down so I’m on my back but with my legs firmly wrapped around his waist.

“You and that word,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Baby, come on. Would it sound quite so sexy if I said anything else? If I said I’m going to boink you like there’s no tomorrow, it wouldn’t have the same ring to it.” He starts devouring my body with his mouth before I respond.

“When you put it like that…” My sentence trails off as I surrender to the sensation of his tongue, tracing my stomach muscles. Every touch sends soft, hot tingles of pleasure over my skin, silencing me effectively.

He makes light work of moving back on top of me, his damp body acting like a sensual distraction, cold and wet against my warm and dry. Moving up the bed, he pulls one of my wrists toward him. He slowly straps on one of the wide, padded leather cuffs with a Velcro fastening. I wouldn’t be able to get my hand out unaided. He takes my other hand and does the same, slowly and deliberately, watching my face for signs of disapproval. When he has them on, he moves down my body with kisses, licks, and nibbles, making me groan. I close my eyes as I lie on the bed, relaxing, letting him take control, and enjoying every delectable sensation. Finally, with the same slow, deliberate movements, he puts one on each ankle amid a flurry of gentle kisses and soft caresses, watching me for signs of refusal.

He kneels over me, picks up the straps, and clips them to the long lengths of metal rings on each cuff that trail down the bed. They remind me of horse leads.

“You sure about this?” He stops and ponders me, kneeling over my body and caging me. The excitement building within me has knocked all sense of doubt away as tingles and nervous excitement shoot through me instead.

“Very sure,” I breathe sexily, and his eyes darken, lust moving in. Things get heavy and serious as our bodies awaken again.