Arrangement With A Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaire Brothers #1) (7 page)

I
sla put
on some background music as she surfed the Internet. It always helped her to think and calm down.

Ugh, she'd told off Sebastian Calendri, got all up in his space and everything. That had probably not been the best idea if she was trying to impress Arturo enough that he'd sign over her grandfather's business.

But, if what Orlando said was true, then they didn't much get alone either.

Of course, that didn't discount the fact they were still family, and it might not matter how much Arturo argued with him. He still might be majorly angry she had yelled at him.

She needed something to do to keep her mind occupied until he decided to get his ass here. So, she spent the next couple of minutes refreshing her memory on the Calendri's and what they looked like. Most of their pictures were taken a couple of years ago when the paparazzi were going even more crazy than usual to get their photos.

The Calendri's were damn near American royalty. Their wealth wasn't the most extravagant in the country, but they were definitely in the top 1 percent of the population.

No, what made them so beloved by the media was the fact that Vincenzio Calendri and his late wife, had been known for throwing extravagant balls, and not the sort to raise money for their favorite politician.

It was all charity work. The money went to school libraries, children's hospitals, women's shelters, health clinics, and a number of other places that were either in desperate need or weren't popular to donate to, or even both.

The couple had been loved the whole country over and hailed as the perfect couple.

All of that, until it had been discovered that Vincenzio was guilty of a number of affairs.

Which all came out during his trial for the murder of his wife.

The press hadn't just had a mild liking for the Calendri's then, they'd been like sharks that had scented blood.

It had turned into reality television that everyone in the country tuned in to watch as Vincenzio Calendri was accused and on trial for his wife's murder. When he'd been found guilty, Isla had been with Jane, watching on their television. She could still recall the sound of the people in the apartments next to hers as some of them cheered, and others roared.

She had heard there were parties and barbecues.

She'd felt bad for it back then, but she'd also been kind of relieved that Vincenzio Calendri would be going away, because when she'd heard about that, she'd been so sure it meant her grandfather, her mother, and her aunts and uncles, would all get their jobs back because Baciami Boutique would be returned.

Not so. Though the Calendri sons had been teenagers when the murder happened, they hadn't been children when the trial finally came. They'd been grown men, even the youngest of them. More than grown, their educations done with, they had experience in the world of business, and Arturo had immediately taken over for his father.

She swiped through the list of pictures. Some of them showed Arturo as very young when his mother was killed. Not a kid, but not yet a man either. She did the math on the dates, discovering Arturo actually wasn't a teenager when his mother was killed, but just barely twenty years old. Not much better. There was nothing better, actually.

Many pictures showed a wide-eyed, shell-shocked young man, still reeling from the fact his mother was gone and realizing death was not something anyone could come back from.

Especially with the terrible way she'd been murdered.

Isla's heart ached for him, for the younger Arturo in those pictures. She spotted Orlando in some of them, his face youthful, showing him as a boy of thirteen or so. Silvio had been seventeen when it happened. Children weren’t supposed to have their pictures taken, but someone had snapped these, and once something was put on the Internet, everyone knew it stayed there forever.

The press hadn't given the boys much mercy whenever they'd dared to go out in public.

Sebastian, the only blond, hadn't been in any of the pictures.

As the trial went on, the pictures of Arturo showed someone much different than the scared, stunned young man from the other photos. In these, he was a man with his shoulders filled out, his back straight, and his dark eyes hard and fearless as he watched his father answer questions and deny what he'd done.

The earbuds in her ears were so roughly yanked out, that the lack of music was more of a shock than anything else.

Except for Arturo's irritated voice coming from right next to her. "Doing a little research, I see."

She damn near jumped right off the bed, and her iPad certainly went flying. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He reached his hand up and effortlessly caught the flying tablet before it could crash onto the floor and break.

Her heart raced too damned much for her to be overly impressed by that.

Arturo's dark eyes stared at her. He wasn't glaring. He didn't look remotely angry, considering what he'd just caught her doing, but his expressionless face still gave off a cold chill that made her freeze in place on the bed.

That chill was made only about a thousand times worse when he looked at the tablet screen and started scrolling through what she'd just been reading. Then his eyes glanced back to her.

This time, he did look a tiny bit irritated as he tossed the tablet onto the bed. "Find everything you were looking for?"

Isla stared at the screen in front of her. The picture of Arturo, still looking dazed and confused, was in front of her now.

"I'm sorry. I just…. It's public information."

Fuck, she knew instantly that was a dumb thing to say the second it came out.

His brows lifted. He stared at her as though she was one of the biggest fools he'd ever laid eyes on. "How old are you?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Your age. I'd like to know it."

"Why?" She wanted to tell him it wasn't polite to ask about a woman's age, but after what he'd just caught her doing and what she'd said, she wisely managed to keep that to herself.

"I want to know because you act like a little teenaged twit. You look like I'm about to ground you to your room."

Teenaged twit? Oh, screw him. She bristled. If she'd been a cat, her hair and tail would be spiking up right about now, though the noise that came out of her throat was damn near a catty growl. "I'm trying to apologize to you, you dickhead."

"And now I'm a dickhead, even though I caught you violating my privacy, and I don't care if that shit was on the Internet. If you wanted to do your research on me, you should have done it and looked everything up anywhere but in my house."

That got her feeling mighty guilty again, but Isla sucked that feeling back. He thought she was weak for apologizing, so she wasn't going to do it.

"Wait," she said, frowning and looking at her door, which was open. The fact that Arturo was in here meant that he'd walked through it. It certainly wasn't a hologram in front of her, though she didn't doubt he could afford something like that. "What are you talking about invading privacy? You just walked into my room unannounced. What if I'd been naked or getting dressed?”

"So? I'm going to see you anyway," he said, crossing his arms. "And I knocked three times and called your name, so I let myself in. This isn't your room either. I'm letting you use it while you stay here."

She glared at him, though she didn't have the energy to put much feeling into it. "Do you have to have a response to everything?"

He didn't respond to that. He just looked at her and smiled.

Asshole. Total asshole. Even if he didn't have to have a response for everything, he certainly needed to be right about everything, and this definitely proved as much.

"Whatever," she said, ignoring his
tsking
sound at her immature choice of words. "Anyway, I'm sorry for loading that up in your house if it offends you. I already knew about a lot of it anyway, but I saw some of your brothers today, and I wanted to see their pictures again since I didn't recognize them."

"I was told Sebastian came to visit." Arturo’s smile widened enough to show off a perfect row of white teeth. "How was he?"

She slid off the bed to stand. "Well, I didn't know him before today, so I don't have anything to compare him to, but he seemed pretty pissed off at you." She considered not asking, but she had to. "I'm guessing Angela was someone he cared about that you messed with?"

“A mutual agreement between us. Trust me, she didn't mind."

Isla barely held back her noise of disgust. Really? This was how he acted about sleeping with his brother's girlfriend? Or, at the very least, someone his brother apparently cared for. A lot.

She hadn't read a Harlequin since she was a teenager and snuck them out of her mother's purse, but of all the billionaire romances she'd gobbled up back when she was fourteen, none of them had acted like such a cruel jerk. He certainly didn't fit the bill for any charming man who was waiting to be healed by a good woman. He was certainly scarred and fucked up, but Isla knew that. Even if she left this place with a little less dignity, she was still going to leave it with her heart intact. There was no chance of her developing unwanted feelings for this guy like Jane had worried about.

Arturo stepped closer, that predatory smile on his face as he went toe to toe with her, staring down at her.

"You want to say something to me."

"No, I don't." She clenched her fists as she glared up at him.

"Yes, you do. I can tell. Just say it. I disgust you, don't I?"

Like she would ever tell him that. This man practically had her by the balls, if she had any balls to be had by. The absolute last thing she was going to do was push her luck by pissing him off.

"Your silence is very telling," he said.

"I don't think you're disgusting."

Not
completely
disgusting, at any rate.

He wouldn’t stop with that half smile. It looked like he really did think he had her, like he knew what was going through her mind.

Isla sighed. “Well, you’re here now. I guess you want sex?”

“What?” Arturo’s eyes widened. He jerked back a little, as though she’d hit him.

She didn’t get it. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“In my house? I’m here because it’s the end of the day, I’m tired, hungry, and I want to relax.”

The way he glared at her when he said it unnerved her. “I just thought, considering our agreement….”

“You thought that I was sitting at my desk all day slobbering all over my paperwork while imagining your sweet ass in my bed, did you?”

Isla’s face heated. “What the hell? Why do you have to speak like that?”

“Why do you have to think like that?” Arturo shot back. “I’m going to fuck you eventually, and yes, it will be tonight, but I’m not a pervert who can’t manage to go more than a few minutes without thinking about tits and ass and getting off. I do have self-control, just so you know.”

As he said it, his eyes moved up and down her body. Her skin heated from the bottom of her toes all the way to the top of her head from having him look at her like that. The extra problem to add on top of it was the fact he didn’t look overly impressed with what he was seeing.

What the hell? And why did that bother her so much?

“Didn’t seem so obvious when you had that blonde come out of your back office the other day.”

She couldn’t believe she just said that.
Fuck my life.

He shook his head before blowing out a breath and rolling his eyes, but he didn’t reprimand her for her choice of words.

“Get yourself ready and come down to dinner.” He moved back to her door.

It seemed a little late for dinner. She tried not to eat after seven, but she supposed a guy like Arturo was used to late dinners. He had the sort of body that meant his metabolism was able to keep up with eating late, at least.

“Get ready, right.”

“Something you don’t understand?” he asked, stopping at her door.

She shook her head. “No, I get it.” He had said he would fuck her after they ate, so she supposed she needed to get into a fresh pair of panties, the tiny lacey kind, and one of the sexier bras that she’d packed.

“Good. Dinner will be served in ten minutes. Don’t be late,” he said, then he was gone.

Isla exhaled, not realizing she’d been having trouble breathing until she did that.

Holy shit. That had been… a lot more intense than she’d thought it would be. She was going to have dinner with that man, and then they were going to get it on, probably in a king-sized bed, or something bigger, whatever it was that angry billionaires slept in.

This hadn’t made her blush so much before she came here. Was it only more real now that she was here? Now that she really did have to put up with his temper and snide comments?

Well, screw him. Regardless of his past, that was no reason for him to play these games with her. She was going to play along, only because she had to, but while she was at it, she was going to kill him with kindness.

Isla’s new mission was to make this man, not love her, but like her. She was going to be so nice to him, that by the time this was all over and he was handing over her family’s company, he would be down on his knees apologizing to her for being so rude and mean.

She wouldn’t make him apologize for the sex bit, but only if it was good. Something told her that a guy like Arturo only ever had good sex, so she wasn’t overly worried about that.

All right then, game on.

I
sla knew
how to do her makeup so that her best features were highlighted, instead of just being covered up.

Enough eyeliner for her eyes, without going all the way around, made them look bigger. Her lashes were naturally dark, so she used a clear mascara, which was her favorite thing in the entire world, especially since she never had worry about forgetting to take it off during the night and waking up in the morning with raccoon eyes.

That was definitely something she needed to be worried about tonight, if Arturo was serious about getting her in bed.

She was fairly sure he was.

She never wore fake lashes. She'd tried them before, but it was hard to make her look good in them. For whatever reason, Isla and fake lashes never went together, so she didn't have to worry about that.

R
ed or yellow
was her signature color, but yellow wasn't a color she used to seduce.

Red it was. Red anything with her black hair and dark eyes always seemed to pull in a lot of good attention. And there were all kinds of good attention.

She had a great dress that hugged her ass and thighs in just the right way. Not too short, but long enough to look a little on the sophisticated side.

She never put full-on red lipstick, however. That never seemed to work too well either. No one had true red lips, but she could darken her lips by a couple of shades and still look naturally beautiful.

Also, even with her primer, too much red lipstick would noticeably come off on her cutlery when she ate. Better to put on something that wouldn't be so noticeable if the color faded, which would allow her to reapply it without Arturo noticing at some point.

She also figured he wouldn't like being kissed and having a whole lot of red on his face.

She had put a lot more thought into this than she'd anticipated.

For her shoes, she pulled out her favorite heels. They were black, not red, but black went with everything, also there was a little red on them in the form of a bow at the front of each foot. The toe was left open. She didn't have any color on her toes, but she was a big believer in pedicures, which means her feet would look pretty good.

If he was the sort who would be looking at her feet.

Shit. Should she bring a handbag? This wasn't a restaurant she was going to, but it almost felt that way. Where else was she supposed to store her lipstick? She'd also brought condoms. Arturo had said he had no plans on having unprotected sex, but that didn't mean Isla allowed herself to trust someone else to bring the essentials.

There was nothing for it. The handbag had to come along. At least it was small.

Next was the jewelry. All of it was her own pieces. She'd made roses out of red wire, which had taken forever to put together. The end results, a matching necklace with earrings and a ring, were some of her favorite to wear to events, especially when she was trying to sell her stuff.

People tended to like the loops and swirls in her wire jewelry, and the red went with her outfit nicely.

Isla checked herself out in the mirror as she fluffed her black hair. Perfume would be too obvious, and she wasn't a fan of the stuff, so she left it off. Hopefully, Arturo wasn't the sort of guy who cared about that.

She stopped messing with her hair and stared at herself.

Wait a minute, she had decided she didn't care what he thought and she wasn't going to try too hard.

No. This wasn't about her trying too hard. She needed to go down there and impress, but she didn't need to impress him that badly.

This was already going to end in sex, so it wasn't like she had to dress like she was trying for that.

She wiped off her lipstick and went for a plain gloss instead. She also opted to not wear any eyeshadow or blush.

She smiled at herself in the mirror.

With her hair fluffed as it was, she had to say, she thought she looked pretty fucking spectacular. She looked approachable, not like a woman who was out for sex, or something else.

She looked almost normal, like she could be Arturo's friend or business confidant, and not just someone he was using for… whatever this game was supposed to be.

She had a whole two minutes to spare when she left her room.

She hadn't expected there to be someone waiting for her.

Not Martina. It was that young female maid from before. She smiled shyly at Isla. "I'm to escort you to the dining hall."

"Oh, of course, lead the way," she said, as if she had maids and servants escorting her around all the time.

They walked at a brisk pace down the hall, down the stairs, and then through a series of doors, and holy God, this place was huge.

"So," Isla said, "what's it like working for Mr. Calendri?"

"Oh." The girl jumped a little as though she were a mouse being asked a sly question from a cat. "It's nice."

"Just nice?"

"Mr. Calendri is nice."

Isla wasn't going to get any information out of this girl. She could ask for her name and the girl might not even tell her. Was there a rule about the woman speaking to her? Or was it just the men?

They must've been getting close to the dining hall, because she could hear Arturo's voice, and he didn't sound too happy.

“Why don’t you just mind your own damned business?”

Isla and the servant girl stopped, frozen just outside of the door to the dining room. Why would she want to take another step when Arturo sounded so angry?

A lot angry.

Who was he talking to?

She leaned in a little closer, not even think about her actions. Her curiosity got the better of her and it just happened.

The maid girl took hold of her wrist and tried to pull her back, but she didn't put a whole lot of strength into it.

"Orlando, seriously, you're being a nuisance. She's a grown damn woman and she made the choice to come here."

Isla's eyes widened. He was speaking to his brother about her?

At least one of the Calendri brothers was proving to be something of a gentleman. She was just getting ready to brush the lot of them off as being rude and standoffish, even the brother she hadn't met.

Well, okay, maybe she wouldn't have thought that completely about Orlando. In the two minutes she'd spent in his presence earlier today, he'd seemed like an all right guy.

Arturo's voice changed from completely pissed off to just exasperated and tired. "Seriously, you're making a big deal out of nothing. I'm not keeping her here for fuck's sake."

Another silence while Orlando spoke. She couldn't hear him, and she wished Arturo would put the phone on speaker.

"Fair enough," Arturo said. "I'll talk to you later, all right? I love you."

Isla's breath caught, and she leaned back from the door so suddenly that the maid girl nearly fell back on her ass as she moved quickly to keep Isla's head from hitting her nose.

She had to catch the girl, who let out a sharp yelp.

"
Shh
!" she said, putting a finger to her mouth when she righted the girl.

She immediately looked back toward the door. Had Arturo heard that? The poor maid looked utterly terrified.

After a few seconds, there was a call from the other side of the door. "Isla, I know you're there. Stop spying and get in here."

Great.

She sucked back a deep breath and just barely managed to stop herself from looking at the young girl with annoyance for giving away her position.

It wasn't totally her fault, so Isla just needed to walk in there and face the music.

She was just about to open the door and let herself in, but the maid girl quickly rushed past her, grabbed the door handle, and held it open so Isla could enter like a proper rich lady should.

With a servant holding the door for her.

It made her so damned uncomfortable that she almost forgot to be embarrassed for spying.

Arturo stared at her hard as she entered. His elbows were up on the pristine tablecloth. He wore a casual suit, the sort of thing with an open black coat and white dress shirt, but no tie. His hair was tied loosely behind him, which gave off a causal feel as well. Somehow, he still rocked that look and managed to seem official and a little on the scary side. His hands were locked together as he stared at her over his fingers with those dark eyes. She could have sworn there was a slight twitch going on beneath one of his eyes.

The servant girl wasn't the one to step forward and pull Isla's chair out. A male butler did that, someone older. She didn't recognize him from when she first came in.

"Thank you," she said to him, sitting down to Arturo's right.

The table was beyond long and enormous. If she were to sit across from him, it would put her at least fifteen feet away. Not exactly a romantic dinner.

"Did you enjoy what you heard?" Arturo asked, his eye still doing that twitching thing.

Kill him with kindness. She'd seen this man smile before. He was in a bad mood, and she wasn't going to play into it.

Not too much, at least.

She smiled at him, going for sweet, but without being fake. The fake sugars made her stomach ache anyway. "Sorry, I guess it just happened. You were talking about me, after all."

"I suppose I was," Arturo conceded, still watching her, still suspicious. Of what exactly?

"What did you hear?"

The butler returned with a red wine. Elegantly, he poured a glass for her and topped off Arturo's glass before silently removing himself from of the line of fire.

Weren't gentlemen supposed to save the ladies when they were in trouble?

Isla was all about equal treatment, but only so long as it benefited her in awkward situations. It made her a hypocrite, sure, but right now, she was sweating under that dark, intense stare.

"Not much," she replied, keeping her tone straight, miraculously. She couldn't hide her curiosity, however, which was the thing that had gotten her in trouble to begin with. "I heard you mention me and your brother Orlando's name. So I guess he's worried about me and what you're planning on doing to my innocence.”

Arturo smiled at her choice of words.

“Also, I heard you tell your brother you love him before you ended the call. That's it."

His dark eyes looked away from her, it was just a split second, but it was incredibly telling.

He loved his brother, and he was willing to say it out loud. He looked like a guy's guy, the sort of man who had trouble admitting to feelings like that, but he said it to his younger brother.

And it clearly made him uncomfortable to know someone had heard that.

This was her opening. She wasn't the sort who would use something so personal and, well, sweet against a man, so all she had to do was keep this to herself. That was bound to get her some brownie points with this man.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not going to run to the press or anything and tell them you have a heart."

"That's hardly the thing I'm worried about," he said.

"I won't even tell the brother you don't like, if it will make you feel better."

Arturo lifted a brow at her. "Were you going to?"

She couldn't help but glare a little. "No, that's not what I meant. Dammit, you know what I mean. I'm not a bitch. I won't rub it in your face that you love your family, okay?"

He blinked at her, then he burst out laughing. "Not a bitch?" he asked, but she detected no sarcasm there. Not until he stopped laughing and looked her square in the eyes, his gaze making her feel like a tiny animal in the sights of a cobra about to strike. "We'll see if any of that changes when you get out of here. You might hate me a little more when this is all over."

His gaze fell down to her breasts and lingered there. Isla shivered.