Javier stopped Carla by pressing his lips against hers, hot and hard, and then pulled away before temptation got out of hand. ‘Take the night, think about it, and give me your answer in the morning. I know you’ll choose wisely. ’
‘You’re so certain you know what I’ll decide?’
He shrugged. ‘Besides the pleasure you’ll receive in my bed, there’s the added benefit that once your father knows you’re mine—truly mine—he’ll think twice about threatening you again. ’
‘So those are my choices? Choose you or choose him?’
‘The writing’s been on the wall for a while, Principessa. This way you know you’re backing the right horse. ’
He flung the door open and grabbed her hand. In the bright light of the foyer he caught a clearer glimpse of her outfit and cursed himself for giving her the night to agree to his demands. The ache in his groin alone threatened to fracture his mind.
Although his every instinct screamed at him to go after her, when she’d muttered goodnight and made a beeline for her bedroom Javier stayed put.
Morning would come soon enough.
Carla Nardozzi would be his.
MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance at thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does! Feel free to pinch her, too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!
Signed Over to Santino
Maya Blake
Contents
CARLA NARDOZZI TOOK the chauffeur’s proffered hand, stepped out of the luxury SUV and was immediately bombarded with the sights and sounds of New York City. The journey from her Upper East Side hotel to Midtown had been as tense and chilly as the air conditioning blasting from the vents.
To her right, her father, Olivio Nardozzi, stood stiff and seething.
Carla would’ve summoned a genuine smile for the driver had she been able to function in anything other than a complete state of ongoing shock.
The past seven days had unfolded in a series of bombshells she could scarcely wrap her head around. Bombshells she’d struggled to navigate without going under until she’d eventually, exhausted, settled in a place of icy numbness. But the biggest trial of all lay ahead of her. Or more accurately, it lay above her, sixty-six floors up in the office of the man she’d hoped never to set eyes on again.
As if pulled by powerful magnets, her gaze slid up the glass façade of the building housing the esteemed J Santino Inc.