Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 93347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t,” I said, each word deliberate. “I’m just an American.”
His gaze flicked to my mouth, tracing the tight line of my lips before returning to my eyes. “Fair enough. You’re American. So, tell me, how do Americans negotiate?”
I leaned forward, letting a small, defiant smile curve my lips. “They talk salary first.”
He answered without hesitation. “Fifty thousand euros.”
I crossed my arms as I narrowed my eyes. “Fashion stylists at haute couture ateliers are usually paid seventy-five to a hundred thousand euros.”
“That is true. But they are not babies fresh out of school.”
He was also overbearing, impossibly arrogant, domineering, pushy, and manipulative.
Never stand in the way of something a Diamanti wants.
That was a threat.
He sipped his wine and then gestured with his glass. “You were the one who said you wanted to be judged solely on your skills as a stylist and not your skills in sucking my—”
“Enough!” I waved my hands.
He ruthlessly continued. “If we are negotiating a salary for your other…unique…skills, then I could be convinced to offer—”
“Not another word!” I placed my hands over my ears.
He winked in response.
Dammit. Why did he have to be so handsome and charming even while he was being obnoxious?
This would never work. No matter how tempting a job at the House of Diamanti might be, I could never work for the enigmatic Sebastian Diamanti. The man was just…too much.
I pushed away from the table and returned to the lounge in search of my purse. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but my answer is still no.”
Whether it was the super scary, domineering version of Sebastian Diamanti or the charming and seductive one, the result was still the same.
Danger.
My fingers barely brushed the strap of my purse before it was snatched from my grasp.
I turned sharply, only to find Sebastian standing impossibly close.
With an effortless flick, he tossed the purse out of reach, his other arm wrapping firmly around my waist. “Leaving so soon—without hearing my counteroffer?”
I stared at his mouth as my heart raced. “I’m not interested in the job, so there is nothing to hear.”
His full lips lifted into a smile, showing off his perfect white teeth with his slightly long canines.
Run.
A panicked screech rang in my head.
I jerked in his embrace, but he only tightened his arm.
Then he lifted me off the floor and twisted his hand in my hair. “Good. I’d rather show you my counteroffer.”
His mouth descended on mine.
He tasted of wine and ruin.
My scalp stung where he pulled my hair as his tongue swept inside my mouth to take possession.
I dug my fingers into his sweater while I desperately tried to cling to my sanity.
It was an indescribable feeling to be swept up in a sea of emotion. Blood pounded in my ears as I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping in vain to shut out the reality of what was happening. I was letting this man overwhelm me…again. It was as if I had no free will around him.
When he broke the kiss, I opened my eyes and cried out, “What the fuck?”
He had carried me into an elegant bedroom. Like the rest of the plane, muted chocolate browns, cream, and bronze tones decorated the room, with fresh white orchids on the bureau and a stunning watercolor of the Italian coast over the bed.
I pushed away from him and backed up a few steps.
Without taking his eyes off me, he kicked the door behind him shut.
In one fluid motion, he pulled his sweater over his head, revealing a muscular chest etched with a tattoo that seemed both ominous and hypnotic.
Reaching for his belt buckle, he raised his chin and commanded, “Get on the bed.”
My eyes widened as I clutched the sides of my blazer, wrapping them more securely around my waist.
I shook my head. “We’re not doing this again.”
He whipped his belt off. “If by this, you mean fuck, then yes, we are.”
The backs of my legs bumped into the bed. I jumped away as if it had burned me. “It takes two people to fuck, and I say it’s not happening.”
He kicked off his shoes and padded toward me in only a pair of pants hung so low on his hips I could see the faint dusting of hair over his flat lower abdomen and a significant bulge straining against the fabric.
Catching my look, he smirked as he cupped his right fist with his left hand. “It only takes one person to fuck. The other one gets fucked.”
“Sebastian, let me pass.”
He leaned forward. “Sabrina, not a chance in hell.”
I swiveled my head to search the room. From the sloped walls, it appeared as though we were at the very back of the plane. There wasn’t another exit.
He stalked forward.
I held up my palm. “Wait!”
His hands cupped my face as he pushed his fingers into my hair, holding me tightly.