Page 5 of Contract of a Billionaire
His eyes narrowed, then traveled down my body again, leaving me feeling strangely breathless and my heart racing in my chest.
I attempted the same tactic and let my gaze fall down his body. It was a mistake because it became even more apparent how tall, muscular, and breathtaking he was. Not a good conclusion to come to while alone with a stranger in the room.
My eyes locked on his shiny, expensive, black shoes. Italian leather, if I had to guess. He still wasn’t moving. But now we stood so close together, I could smell his spicy, woodsy scent. Powerful, just like his presence.
“What’s your name?” His question caught me off guard, and I lifted my eyes back to his, meeting those dark stormy eyes.
“None of your business,” I snickered. “What’s yours?”
Where did that come from?
“None of yours,” he deadpanned. “If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”
What. The. Hell?
“Get out!” I took a step forward, and pushed my palm against his chest, then realized I dropped the dress that covered my upper torso. I quickly folded my arms in front of my chest.
We still stood in the middle of my girly bedroom, his towering frame in a dark suit looking ridiculous among all my pink.
His eyes lowered to where my palm rested only seconds ago, then came back to my face. We looked at each other for a moment and I realized his hand was on my wrist, the rough pads of his fingertips brushing against my fluttering pulse.
“Careful, Autumn,” he drawled. “Or you’ll find yourself in the wrong bedroom.”
It wasn’t until he was long gone that the realization sunk in.
He knew my name!
Ten minutes later, I smoothed the non-existent wrinkles of the light pink dress. It hugged my body too tightly, making it hard to breathe. I wasn’t used to wearing snug clothing and heels. Being careful not to get my strappy pink heels stuck in the dirt, I kept my gaze focused on the ground. The music and laughter vibrated all around me and a smile already formed on my lips.
“Autumn, come and say hello to our guest.” Maman’s voice traveled through the air.
Taking a step over the gravel, I steadied my ankle.
“I’m coming,” I grumbled. “These damn shoes are getting stuck.”
Another two steps, I looked up and froze.
A pair of dark gray eyes in a black three-piece-suit watched me, pinning me to my spot. The guy that barged into my bedroom stood next to my father. A smile lifted his lips and my eyes locked on them. Such sensual, well-proportioned lips. I wondered how he kissed.
Hard. Rough. Wet. Demanding.
“There you are.” My mother pressed a kiss on my cheek. “Joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie.” Happy birthday, my mother wished me in French.
“Merci, Maman,” I murmured, keeping my eyes on the stranger.
A set of arms wrapped around me and I swayed. “He made it,” Branka squealed in delight.
“Who?” I muttered, flicking a frown her way, then returning it to the gorgeous stranger. Why was he talking to my dad?
“My brother.” My head whipped her way and I followed her gaze. “Alessio.” I swallowed hard, remembering how I yelled at him barely ten minutes ago.
“Autumn, meet Mr. Alessio Russo.” My father’s tone held a note of caution. The one that told me he’d rather not have me talk to the man. If only he knew, I spent a few minutes alone with him. “Mr. Russo, my daughter Autumn.”
I tipped my head in greeting as a warm rush of adrenaline ran down my spine at the way he watched me and the recognition of his name. I met his heavy gaze, dark gray eyes shaded by thick, dark lashes that could fool you into thinking his eyes were darker than they really were.
“Miss Corbin.” His voice was indifferent but something amused and dangerous played in his gaze, challenging me.
I’d stake my life that all the rumors of Alessandro Russo’s ruthlessness were true.
