The Boss's Nine-Month Negotiation. Maya BlakeЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER ONE

      SIENNA NEWMAN STEPPED out of the shower, finished drying off and eased her black hair from the tight bun it’d been in all day. Swiping her hand across the steamed-up vanity mirror, she couldn’t resist smiling at herself.

      Sister Margaret from the orphanage where Sienna had spent most of her childhood had often told her to count her blessings. Of course, counting those blessings while smiling goofily at herself in the mirror would’ve been met with a frown. The orphanage matriarch certainly wouldn’t have approved of the illicitly carnal thrill that went through her as she smoothed expensive and luxurious lotion over her skin, her senses revving up in anticipation of what the evening ahead held for her. It was a good thing therefore that Sister M, as the children had referred to her, wasn’t here to see this tiny fall from grace. Because, even with the old biddy’s beady eyes on her, Sienna didn’t think she could’ve stopped smiling.

      Today, her twenty-eighth birthday had started in spectacular style. Four giant bouquets of calla lilies and white roses, her favourite flowers, had been delivered to her desk on the hour between nine o’clock and midday, each time with a jaw-dropping present wrapped in white silk paper and black velvet bows. The stunning beauty of the diamond tennis bracelet delivered at eleven o’clock had only been topped by the magnificent sapphire teardrop necklace with matching earrings at midday. But even more special than all the presents had been the handwritten notes from Emiliano accompanying each gift. The scrawls had been as bold and domineering as the man, nowhere near flowery, but the intimate words of desire and felicitation had touched her deeply.

      The afternoon had taken a different but nevertheless incredible turn, with culinary delights from edible-gold-dusted chocolate to caviar to a single pink-and-silver frosted cupcake with a lit candle for her to wish on and blow out.

      She’d made a wish all right. One that had stealthily sprung into her heart and taken root about three months ago, around the time it had dawned on her that she’d been in a relationship with a hitherto unattainable man for almost a year.

      Extreme self-preservation born of painful past experiences had fuelled her need to ignore the growing wish, but with each day that passed she’d began to hope rejection wasn’t on the cards for her this time, as it had so often been.

      As Sienna re-entered the bedroom, her smile dimmed a touch.

      The only slight downside to her fantastic day had been the need to once more be evasive in the face of interest from colleagues about her love life and the knowledge that, although his extravagant birthday surprises had been thrilling to experience, Emiliano had once again run roughshod over her need to keep their relationship private.

      The last time she’d touched on the subject, they’d rowed, Emiliano’s Latin temper erupting in a torrent that had included his adamant refusal to ‘skulk around in shadows’ or ‘pretend I’m not into you when we’re in public.’

      After a heated back-and-forth on the subject they’d retreated to the not-so-neutral zone of their bedroom, where he’d expressed his extreme displeasure passionately.

      Sienna blushed in recollection, but her smile remained elusive, her heart skidding again as a different issue interrupted her happiness.

      Another thing that would’ve made her birthday perfect was Emiliano’s presence. Or, barring that, a simple phone call.

      All she’d received was an email wishing her happy birthday and a single line to say he was aboard his plane, flying back home from Argentina. Although she’d been relieved that the unexpected extension of his overseas trip by four more days was finally over, she’d yearned to hear his voice. So much so, she’d called him straight back the moment she’d got home, only to have her call go to voicemail. Same as most of her calls the last three days. The one time he’d picked up, he’d been brusque to the point of monosyllabic.

      She curbed the tiny spurt of anxiety and pulled on her underwear before sliding on the dress she’d shopped for for hours before discovering it in a tiny shop in Soho. The blood-red sleeveless gown showed off the slight tan she’d gained from their recent weekend away in St Tropez. Fastening her new necklace and earrings, she brushed out her shoulder-length black hair and stepped into black stilettos. The added height would be nowhere near Emiliano’s six-foot-three-inch frame, but the confidence boost was nevertheless welcome.

      Exhaling, she pushed away the insidious voice that wouldn’t remain silent, reminding her that everything in her life—bar her career—thus far, had been ripped from her. That what she had with Emiliano would follow suit. After adding the finishing touches of perfume, clutch and wrap, she headed for the door.

      She didn’t want to, but Sienna couldn’t stop the nerves that assailed her, or the equal amounts of excitement and dread that fluttered through her stomach at the notion of going out in public with Emiliano tonight. Even though they’d never resolved their argument, he’d grown increasingly possessive of her in public recently, his bold caresses almost baiting her to protest. Unwilling to provoke another disagreement, she hadn’t, and in her quiet moments even admitted to enjoying those displays. Nevertheless, the butterflies in her stomach grew, their wings beating so loud she almost missed her phone buzzing with a text message.

      Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Emiliano’s name on her screen.

      Slight change of plan. We’ll dine at home. Restaurant delivery is taken care of. Let me know if that suits? E.

      Her smile burst forth anew, her heart squeezing with happiness as she quickly answered.

      That more than suits. Can’t wait to see you! XXX

      Hitting Send, she stared at the little faint bubble that said her message was being read. Then waited. He didn’t answer.

      Swallowing, she returned her phone to the clutch and left the bedroom.

      The restaurant they were supposed to dine at was a mere two miles away from the Knightsbridge penthouse she shared with Emiliano. And, if Emiliano had already contacted her favourite chef, then the meal was most likely already on its way.

      She walked down the stunningly decorated hallway and through the vast sitting room to find Alfie, their young live-in butler, setting the table in the dining room.

      He looked up and smiled when he saw her. ‘Good evening, miss.’

      She returned his smile and nodded at the table. ‘Looks like Emiliano has given you the heads-up on the change of plan?’

      ‘Indeed. He’s also given me the night off,’ he replied with a grin. ‘I’ll just wait for the delivery to arrive then I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy your birthday.’

      She fought the blush that threatened, recalling the butler’s wry comment months ago about how he’d become the grateful recipient of many sudden nights off since she’d moved in with Emiliano. ‘Thanks.’

      Alfie nodded and went back to laying the table. Not wishing to intrude, she drifted back into the living room. Decorated with luxury and deep comfort in mind, the slate-coloured sofas, matching tables and the white walls were interspersed with dark-gold throw pillows and rugs that added welcoming warmth to the large room. A dominating fireplace was aglow to complement the November autumnal weather.

      Sienna strolled to the mantel, picked up the single picture adorning it and stared down at the selfie she’d taken of herself and Emiliano three months ago. It had been a rare moment of throwing caution to the wind and all the more special for it.