The Billionaire's Daughter (28 page)

“Come
on,” he said gently, breaking the spell, “time to get moving.”

She
turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Let’s
stay here,” she suggested, pressing her breasts against him, moving her hips
salaciously against his growing member.
 
She could feel his semi-hardness through his jeans and stood on her toes
to kiss him.
 
“We could go shopping
later - or even tomorrow,” she hummed.

Dante
swallowed.
 
The feel of her nubile
young body was almost too much to resist.

“Are
you trying to manipulate me young lady,” he asked, half joking.

“Who,
me?” she giggled.
 
Then turning
serious, she added,
 
“I just love
being close to you.”

He
leaned in and kissed her.
 
Not a
peck, not a stomach churning, demanding kiss.
 
But a warm, sultry, soft, loving kiss. His hands instinctively
moved up to hold her head gently as the sweet kiss continued.
 
When he pulled back he felt a deep,
romantic caring.
 
The sparkling
gleam in her eye told him the kiss had created the same intoxicating response
in her.
 
Both slightly breathless their
eyes locked, then he pulled her into him and she buried her head in his
shoulder.

Dante
was at a loss for words.
 
His heart
was hammering.
 
Something was
happening.
 
Something he had not
anticipated.
 
He was falling in
love with her. Admitting it to himself allowed him to break the spell.
 
He moved his hands down past her waist
and clutched her perky backside.
 

“If
you tempt me anymore I’ll have to punish you for trying to change my plans,” he
threatened softly.
 
“Keep trying to
lure me into bed and you’ll end up over my knee.”

Kate
 
pulled back and studied his face.
 
His kiss had been different.
 
It was warm and gentle, filled with a
heavy, loving warmth.
 

“Let’s
get the rest of this stuff in the machine,” he said, softly, recognizing the
emotion in her face.

Swallowing
hard, she turned her attention to the remaining clothes, and with Dante’s help
it only took a minute to finished the chore, and start the machine.

“I’m
going to clean up and change,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of
the laundry room.
 
“Why don’t you
do the same.
 
Put on something you
know I’d like.”

They
were nearing the hallway to his room, and throwing caution to the wind threw
her arms around his neck.

“Dante,”
she breathed, “I - um ... “ her voice trailed off.
 
She couldn’t find the words to express what she was
feeling.
 
How could she.
 
She wasn’t even sure herself.

“I
know, Kate,” he crooned, then hugging her he added,
 
“You go get changed now.
 
I’ll see you at the front door when you’re ready.”

Eyes
twinkling she gave him a last, longing look and scooted away.
 
As she trotted up the stairs she
decided to wear just a smidgeon of makeup, jeans and boots, and a warm, loose
fitting cashmere sweater.
 

Dante
was in his bathroom staring at his reflection in the mirror.
 
He had dated many girls in college and
the years that followed.
 
A couple
he cared for very much.
 
But his
thoughts were never far from Kate.
 
Whenever he was at the estate he would seek her out, and one time in
particular was burned into his memory.

Cecil
had told him she was at the barn so he had wandered down to see her.
 
As he approached he could hear her
fighting with her horse trainer, telling the perplexed woman that she had no
business being a horse trainer because she didn’t know what she was doing.
 

He
had run across the vast expanse of lawn to intercede but Kate had stomped off
before he could get there.
 
He had
watched her march up to the house, her shapely behind perfectly outlined in her
tight riding breeches, her long hair being tossed around by the wind.
 
She was carrying a crop, and all he
wanted to do was run as fast as he could to catch her, rip the whip from her
hand and bend her across a fence, any fence, and tan her backside.

You’ve never stopped thinking about her,
you idiot,
he said out
loud.
 
What did you think would happen when you started this?

He
took a deep breath.
 
He was
shaken.
 
Throwing cold water on his
face he changed quickly into a pair of khaki slacks and a black, v-neck
sweater, and grabbing his black leather jacket, headed to the front door.

He
waited for a few minutes but there was no sign of her coming down the stairs,
so he made his way to the garage where the Jaguar was waiting, keys in the
ignition, and brought it to the front of the house.
 
He had just finished loading the bag of dry cleaning when
she appeared.
 

She
was a vision.

Her
long brunette auburn hair was pulled back in a pony tail, highlighting the
beauty of her high cheek bones and perfect features.
 
She was wearing a black shirt, but only the collar was showing,
peeking up from the charcoal grey sweater.
 
She was in jeans but they weren’t faded and ripped up.
 
They were dark blue, looked cleaned and
pressed and weren’t indecently tight.
 
On her feet were a pair of black cowboy boots, but under the jeans, not
over them as was her habit.
 

She
walked down the steps to the car, and as she approached he noticed there was
barely a hint of mascara on her lashes, and just a dab of blue eyeshadow, and a
splash of wet pink graced her lovely lips.
 

“You
have never looked lovelier,” he smiled, as she approached.
 
“I mean it Kate, you look absolutely
gorgeous.”

He
closed the trunk on the bag of cleaning and moved quickly to open the car door
for her.

“Thank
you kind, Sir,” she giggled.
 
He
had been right.
 
She felt so much
prettier with her light makeup and conservative clothes.

He
was grateful that his ankle was well enough to allow him to drive, and he
pulled out on to Protrero Road, the main street that would take them in to
Westlake Village, just a five minute drive.
 
The area boasted a number of high end boutiques as well an
outdoor shopping mall called The Promenade.
 

The
mall was relatively quiet.
 
It was
the middle of the day in the middle of the week so they didn’t have to deal
with hordes of people.
 
Dante’s ankle
was doing well and he hoped it would hold up for their little shopping spree.
They wandered down the sidewalk and Dante led her into some stores that offered
the conservative clothes he had in mind.

An
hour later, after having purchased several items, Kate began complaining.
 
She was tired, her feet hurt and she
needed a break.
 
Dante could
understand and suggested they take the packages back to the car and head to the
small french bakery for some coffee and bite to eat.
 
They made their way across to their car and Dante loaded the
boxes and bags into the trunk, then took her hand to head to the small cafe.

“Dante,”
she whimpered, “I’ve had enough.
 
I
want to go home.”

Dante
looked back at her.
 
Her voice was
whiny and a deep frown was creasing her forehead.

“We’re
almost finished,” he replied.
 
“I’m
sure another hour will see us done.
 
A couple pairs of slacks and a simple black dress and we’ll leave.”

Kate
shifted from foot to foot.
 
She’d
had fun in the first few shops but then it began to get tedious.
 
And she was thirsty and hungry.

“I’m
tired,” she answered.
 
“I don’t
want to do anymore.
 
I want coffee
but I want it at home.
 
And I’m
hungry,” she finished, staring at him defiantly.

“Uh
- I believe I just told you I understood, and we are going over there - just a
short walk - to have a sit down.
 
We’ll both have some coffee and a snack,” he replied, keeping his voice
even.

Kate
was aggravated and felt out of sorts. Another hour?
 
She didn’t want to shop for another hour.

“No,”
she said shortly.
 
“No.
 
I told you, I’ve had enough and I want
to go home,” she exclaimed, raising her voice.

Dante
considered the situation.
 
He
didn’t want the shopping to be torture, but at the same time he didn’t
appreciate her tone or her attitude.
 
She was behaving like a 10 year old, her frustration once again getting
the best of her.

“Kate
- are you sure you want to use that tone?” he asked, giving her a chance to
make amends.

“What
tone?
 
I don’t know what you mean,”
she said, angrily.
 
“All I said
was, I’ve had enough and I want to leave.”

For
a few precious minutes she’d forgotten. The quick tempered little girl had
unexpectedly resurfaced.
 

“Uh
- ssorry,“ she stammered, suddenly realizing what she had just done. “I just
feel tired and cranky,” she replied, not sure what she could say to save
herself - or her bottom - that was now in clear and present danger of being
turned a very bright red.

“Why
don’t we take it from the top,” he said calmly, moving towards her.
 
“I’ve just put the packages in the
trunk of the car,” he continued, looking quickly around the parking area.
 
He saw no-one in the immediate
vicinity.
 
Taking her wrists and
turning her around he bent her over the back of the vehicle.
 
“You’re feeling a bit weary.
 
Too weary in fact to keep shopping.”

His
hand moved across her beautifully presented backside.
 
The blue jeans molded her shape, hugging her curves.
 
He raised his hand and let it fly on
her right cheek.

“Ow,’
she cried.
 
“Dante - please - we’re
in public,” she protested.

Again
his hand rose and fell on the same spot.

“So
what do you think you might had said or done differently?” he asked, ignoring
her plea and smacking her again.

“Sorry,
Sir.
 
I wasn’t thinking,” she
replied, turning her head to look at him, begging him with her eyes to
stop.
 

“Try
again,” he said, calmly, smacking her once more.
 
“I’ve just put the packages in the trunk and you’d like to
let me know that you’re too tired to continue.
 
What do you think you should say?”

Kate
winced as his hand struck again.

“Dante,
do you think it would be ok to finish now?
 
I’m feeling really worn out,” she whimpered.

“Much
better,” Dante remarked, moving his hand to her opposite cheek and landing a
hard slap.
 

“And
I would have said, are you sure you can’t manage another hour?” he informed
her, smacking again, still keeping his eye out for curious onlookers.
 
“To which you would have replied?”

“I’d
rather not, but if you really think we should,” she answered, wincing as his
hand bounced back to the first cheek.

“And
I would have opened the car door for you and taken you home.
 
See how it works?
 
Politeness and manners, Kate,” he
finished, as his hand continued smacking, moving from cheek to cheek.
 
“And I believe we had a recent
discussion about communication?” he continued.
 
“You were going to tell me - nicely - if you were feeling
frustrated were you not?”

“Yes,
sir,” she cried.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I forgot,” she confessed.

She
began to squirm and he guessed her pretty little ass was now smarting
keenly.
 
There was still no-one in
sight but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“Stand
up,” he said sternly.
 

Sheepishly
Kate rose from the car and placed her hands on her stinging backside.

“What
do you have to say for yourself,” Dante asked quietly.