The Billionaire's Daughter (5 page)

“What’s
your hurry?” he asked, rising from the water himself.

“Uh
- nothing,” she stammered, feeling the redness move across her face.

“Please
hand me a towel,” he asked, stepping carefully over the edge.

Kate
grabbed a fresh one off a wall rack and handed it to him.
 
He moved it quickly across his body,
then tied it around his waist.
 
She
picked up a brush from the counter, running it through her hair, and nervously
moved toward the door.
 
Before she
could open it he was behind her, hands on her shoulders, turning her to face
him.

“Why
suddenly so shy?” he inquired.

Kate
gulped, and for no apparent reason felt the threat of tears.

“A
bit afraid are we?” he asked gently.

Kate
frowned.
 
He was right but how did
he know that’s what was making her feel so weird when she didn’t even know it
herself?
 
Not until he had said it.

“Look
at me,” he said, firmly.

She
lifted her chin and stared into his intense blue eyes.

“Everything’s
going to be just fine.
 
Better than
fine,” he said, gently.

“But
everything’s a mess,” she sighed.
 
“With the job and everything.”

“It
will all work out.
 
I’ve spoken to
you father about that--”

“You
have?” she asked, interrupting him, shocked at the news.
 

“I
have but we’ll talk about that later.
 
Now please don’t worry.
 
Just get me something to wear,” he said, firmly.

His
voice was soothing and warm and confident and she felt her unease beginning to
wane.
 
He was so strong, yet so
wonderfully comforting, and he seemed to know exactly what she was
feeling.
 
He leaned down and kissed
her lightly.

“Go
on, and be quick about it.
 
I’m
getting cold.”

He
watched her scoot from the bathroom and glanced down at his ankle.
 
He could see it was turning a rather
unpleasant array of dark colors.
 
Grimacing, he ran his fingers through his thick wet hair and limped into
the lavish, large bedroom.

CHAPTER THREE

Over
the years Dante and Bill Hollister had become like father and son.
 
Even as a youngster Dante had an
outstanding worth ethic which did not go unnoticed by the rich and powerful
businessman, and unlike his unruly daughter, Dante was always respectful and
considerate.
 
When Dante’s father
died prematurely of a severe coronary Bill took the young man under his
wing.
 
There was enough from the
life insurance to provide for the two daughters and keep the restaurant
running, but Bill took it upon himself to mentor the young man and see to it that
he attended a first rate college.

Now
Bill was stuck in Paris steering the ship of a multi-million dollar deal and
his wife was in Manhattan for the rest of the month.
 
He had called Dante worried sick about Kate.
 
Something had to be done and Bill
Hollister, smart, powerful and a financial wizard, was at a loss.
 
He just didn’t know how to straighten
out his daughter.

Dante
sat on the edge of the bed, ankle throbbing, and thought back to the man’s
request.
 

“Please
check on her”, he had said, “she’s been fired again. I am at my wits end. As
much as I want to I cannot come home right now.
 
Can you have a talk with her?
 
Do you think you can you help her?”

Dante
smiled.
 
Does he think I can help her?

He
had told Bill he thought he might be able to have Kate see the error of her
ways, but in order to do that he would need stay at the house. He needed to
give her his undivided time and attention. Winter was the slow season for him
so taking some time away from his business was not an issue.
  

“Can
I have your permission to be tough with her?” Dante asked.
 
“Show her some home truths?”

“You
most certainly can,” Bill had enthusiastically replied.
 
“Absolutely.
 
I know I spoiled her rotten, and her mother - well - you
know her mother!”

Yes.
 
Dante knew her mother.
 
From all he had seen she was a difficult,
demanding and selfish woman.

After
a lengthy conversation and much thought, Dante suggested Bill call her at some
point in the next few days and threaten financial repercussions.
 
If there was one thing Dante knew about
Kate, it was that she loved her lifestyle.
 
He didn’t know how much her allowance was but he did know
she’d not yet received her trust fund.
 
It was the only card Bill had to play, and Bill agreed.

So
Dante had arrived at the estate on the pretext of dealing with the bug problem
in the trees.
 
But he hadn’t
counted on falling out of one of them and spraining his ankle.

He
took in his surroundings. The room was large, complete with an expansive
walk-in closet sporting a very large center dresser.
 
It boasted a living area with a fireplace, a beige couch
that sported trendy red throw cushions and matching arm chair, and between each
sat an oval glass coffee table. The bed was a king and conveniently a four
poster.
  
There was a desk
with a chair that overlooked a small but pretty garden, a garden in which he
had worked many happy hours and it had lost none of its charm.
 
The walls were painted a soft ruddy
salmon color.
 
All in all the room
was warm and inviting.
 
A gentle
knock caught his attention.

“Come
in,” he called, and Kate walked in carrying a large stack of clothes.
 
“Cecil had left you nothing but a baggy
old sweat suit,” she complained.
 
“I raided my dad’s closet. Take what you want.
 
He won’t care.”

 
“Really?
 
Hmmm.
 
I’m not
sure about that,” Dante remarked.
 
“I’ll put something on for now, but then you’ll have to make sure
whatever I borrow is cleaned and returned to him.”

“Oh
phooey,” Kate exclaimed.
 
“He’s got
more clothes than he’ll ever need.”

“That’s
hardly the point,” Dante continued.
 
“Those things belong to your father and whether they’re missed or not,
they’re still his property.”

“Oh
for pity’s sake,” she blurted out, pulling a cream, cable knit, wool sweater
off the top of the pile and throwing it across the bed at him.
 
“Here.
 
And these jeans should fit perfectly.”

As
Dante caught the sweater and pulled it over his head, Kate couldn’t help but
stare at his taught, toned, muscled chest.

“I’ll
never get the jeans over my ankle,” Dante said, picking them up, a frown
crossing his brow.
 
She was
annoying him with her frivolous and careless attitude.

“Well
then here, these are much better sweat pants than the ones Cecil left,” she
exclaimed, and yanked a pair of black pants triumphantly from the middle of the
neatly folded stack.
 
It caused the
pile to fall apart and land in a heap on the floor.
 
Ignoring the mess she waved them dramatically in the air.

“You
expect me to get off the bed and walk to get those?” he asked, scarcely
believing it hadn’t occurred to her to bring them to him.

“What?
 
Oh - your ankle!” she exclaimed.
 
“Sorry.
 
I was -
thinking about - uh something,” she stammered, carrying them quickly to the
bed.
 

Sigh!
 
Like that chest of yours and how it
would feel pressed against my tits.
Kate
felt her face flush, and averted her eyes as he stood up and dropped the towel
from his waist.
 
Turning away she
scurried back to the clothes, pretending to look for something else.

“You can’t be embarrassed Kate?” he
teased.
 
“You’ve already seen my
family jewels, very closely too I might add.”
 

“Oh
shut up,” she snapped, throwing him a pair of thick, stretchy athletic socks
from the pile of clothing on the floor.
 
Dante caught them but decided to leave them off.
 
He didn’t want to deal with the
struggle of pulling one over his swollen ankle.

“Ok
Kate.
 
Two things,” he said sharply,
placing them on the nightstand by the bed.
  
“First, don’t ever speak to me that way again!”
 

The
sternness of his voice startled her, and when she looked at his face she was
met with a very serious glare.

“Second,
take those things back up to your father’s room.
 
I’ll just use what I’m wearing for now and return them when
I done need them anymore.”

Kate
stared at him, a frown of exasperation creasing her forehead.

“Ok
fine,” she said, her impatient side simmering.
 
“I won’t tell you to shut up again.
 
Would - be quiet -work?” she said
sarcastically.
  
“And as far
as the clothes just take them.
 
I’m
telling you, he won’t care.
 
You
fell out of one of his trees for Chrissakes!”

“Kate,”
he said, softly, disarmingly.
 
“Come and sit here, next to me.”

A
little warning bell went off in her head, but it was very faint, and he looked
so gorgeous sitting there, his black hair having a life of its own, the
inviting blue eyes calling to her.
 
His lips - oooh they were so...
 
mmmm... to feel that kiss again.
 
 
She sidled over and settled
down next to him.

“Yes,
Dante?” she said sweetly.

“I
know you’ve been fired.
 
And I also
know you probably don’t want to make the effort to find another job,” he said,
reaching out and taking her hand.
 
“Quite honestly I think you’d be right not to look.
 
It would be a waste of time.”

“Really?”
she said, totally surprised.

“Really.
 
You’re not ready to work anywhere,
doing anything,” he continued, regarding her steadily.
 
“Not until you understand some very
basic principles.
 
Principles
you’ve never been taught.”

 
His voice was quiet and very calm.

“You’re
speaking in riddles,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.
 
“Am I supposed to know what you’re
talking about?”

“What
I intend to give you,” he continued, wrapping his fingers firmly around
hers,
 
“are things that have been
sadly lacking in your life, Kate.
 
Things like - respecting other people’s property - responsibility -
manners.”

“Oh
stop being so serious,” she exclaimed, attempting to pull her hand away. He
tightened his grip, refusing her escape.
 

“Thank
you for bringing me these clothes. I do appreciate the gesture.
 
Now I’m telling you, not asking you
Kate, I’m telling you.
 
Please
return them to your father’s room and put them back exactly as you found them.”

Kate
stared at him.
 
She felt a slight
knot in her stomach but wasn’t quite sure why.
 
She pulled her hand a second time but it was no use.
 
She could hear the warning voice again
but instead of heeding it, she chose to move to the other side of the line.

“I’ll
have one of the housemaids do it later,” she said flippantly.
 
“Now - um - Dante, would you please let
got of my hand?
 
I want to get some
coffee and something to eat.
 
You
could join me,” she suggested, smiling her most dazzling smile.
 
If anything could get him to let go of
her it was that smile!
 

“I’ve
told you to pick up the clothes and put them back,” he said, ignoring her
invitation and beguiling grin, retaining his firm grip, “and you have
refused.
 
Am I missing anything?”