Julian Blackwood stood outside Presidential Suite 1808 at the Ritz-Carlton, flipping a keycard between his fingers with practiced ease. He didn't tap it immediately.
Julian was a powerhouse—tall, built like a pro athlete, and wrapped in a bespoke Savile Row suit that highlighted shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the market. His features looked like they'd been chiseled out of Italian marble. At thirty-something, he radiated that dangerous, high-octane charm unique to men who own the world—cold, sophisticated, and completely untouchable.
Click.
The door swung open from the inside. Julian looked up, locking eyes with a young woman clearly trying to make a run for it.
He paused, a faint, predatory smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Planning a French exit, sweetheart?"
Sienna Thompson stood frozen in the doorway, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders like raw silk. Her eyes—dark as top-shelf obsidian—went wide with shock. Recognizing him, she bit her lip, standing her ground with a mix of helplessness and defiance that would trigger any man's instinct to dominate.
Julian leaned an arm lazily against the doorframe, blocking her only way out. He looked down at her, eyes scanning her like a high-stakes contract.
"You're shaking. Scared?"
His voice was smooth, carrying a rare hint of patience that didn't fit his "Cold-Blooded Vulture" reputation on Wall Street.
He could see the panic in her eyes, but to his surprise, she didn't flinch. She looked him right in the face. This was better than he'd expected—she was a hell of a lot more interesting than the usual prey.
"I'll give you five minutes to think it over." Julian stepped back, sauntering into the massive suite that overlooked the glowing grid of Central Park. He kept a respectful distance, his tone turning clinical, almost cruel. "Leave or stay. But once you choose, there's no going back."
The words hit Sienna like a serrated blade. He was giving her a "choice," but with the Thompson family facing the gallows, she knew it was a total bluff. Choice didn't exist for her.
Julian shrugged out of his suit jacket and unlinked his cuffs, tossing them onto the expensive leather sofa. As he pulled off his shirt, revealing a back defined by lean, explosive muscle, he glanced back to see her still standing by the door like a statue.
His heart gave a strange, infinitesimal thud. Damn it. He was actually worried she'd walk.
He'd pulled too many levers and spun too many webs to get her in this room tonight. Letting her go now? That wasn't in his playbook.
"Your father's securities fraud case just hit the FBI's desk," Julian's voice dropped an octave, dripping with lethal magnetism. "One phone call from me, and the only sunlight he'll see for the rest of his life will be through the bars of a federal pen."
"I don't give a damn about him!" Sienna snapped, spinning around.
But the words died in her throat. She stared at the man—half-naked, overpowering, and breathtakingly built. Her brain short-circuited.
Julian laughed. A deep, dark sound. He watched the flush creep up her neck and flood her cheeks. The tears in her eyes turned her defiance into something raw and erotic. Julian felt his throat tighten; a primal urge to claim her hit him like a fever.
"Fine, you don't care about him," he purred, closing the distance between them. "But what about your mother? The woman who swallowed a bottle of Valium just to keep the family trust alive? If her only lifeline snaps, do you think she makes it through the night?"
Sienna's shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her. She bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, her eyes dropping in defeat.
Right. Her mother. The woman who valued reputation over air. Her mother had literally gotten on her knees, begging Sienna to make this deal to save her fake-ass stepfather.
Sienna wanted to smash every window in New York rather than sacrifice herself for that man. But she couldn't watch her mother take a swan dive off an Upper East Side penthouse.
Julian checked his Patek Philippe, his patience wearing thin. "Five minutes is up. You leaving, or staying?"
Sienna flinched, looking up at him with eyes full of pure, unadulterated loathing. Julian's brow darkened. He moved toward her.
"Stay back!" she shrieked, recoiling.
Julian's face went black, like a storm rolling over the Hudson. "If you don't want to be here, get the hell out of my sight. I'm not a charity, Sienna, and I don't have time for your little head games."
His roar froze her in place. She stood there, eyes shimmering with tears, feet feeling like they were set in concrete on the red carpet. She wanted to run, but she couldn't afford the fallout.
Julian took one long stride and was on her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her nearly off the floor like a stray kitten.
She was so light it made him frown. He'd intended to shove this ungrateful girl out into the hall.
"I've got plenty of women. I'm not interested in a girl who lays there like a corpse. Out!"
"No! I'm not leaving!" Sienna screamed.
As he pushed her toward the hallway, her survival instinct kicked in. She grabbed onto him, her arms locking around his steel-hard frame. "I can't go... I can't leave!"
He was moving fast, forcing her to scramble. She ended up clinging to him like ivy, wrapping herself around him.
"Don't throw me out... I'm doing this. I'm willing! I'm willing!"
She buried her face in his neck, her tears hot against his bare chest. Julian froze, glancing down the empty hotel corridor. Thank God. If his competitors saw the head of the Blackwood empire with a crying girl hanging off him like a backpack, his reputation would be trashed.
But she was clinging to him like a terrified little octopus. Julian's breath grew heavy. The feeling of her begging him to stay, of her being "stuck" to him... it felt too damn good.
He tried to peel her arms away, but she gripped tighter, sobbing the same words.
"I'm staying... I'm doing this."
In the shadows, Julian smiled—the smile of a hunter who finally bagged his prize. "That's more like it."
...
On the massive King-sized bed, Sienna looked fragile and small. Her wide, wet eyes tracked the man towering over her like some vengeful god.
"You're shaking."
Julian hovered over her, taking his sweet time watching his little lamb.
"I... I just..." She couldn't get a full sentence out. Her teeth were literally chattering.
Julian's warm palm brushed her porcelain cheek, his smile cruel but elegant.
"If you can't satisfy me, Sienna..."
"Please..." She grabbed his hand, her voice frantic. "Please, just... it's my first time. Don't... don't have such high expectations..."
Julian felt a low vibration of pleasure in his chest. A virgin? His only "expectation" was keeping this stubborn rabbit locked in the gilded cage he'd built for her.
"Silly girl."
He leaned down to kiss her. Sienna bolted upright, her body rigid, eyes clamped shut.
"Wait!"
Julian's eyebrows shot up. "Backing out again?"
"I... I have one request."
"Name it."
"After tonight... can we pretend this never happened? Don't tell anyone. I'll... I'll be grateful."
Julian stared at her. The look in her eyes—the desperate need to erase him—sent a surge of nameless rage through him.
She was that eager to wipe him out of her life?
"It's just a hookup, sweetheart. You think I'm going to go around broadcasting it?" he snapped, his voice dripping with bitterness.
Sienna bit her lip, exhaling a tiny breath of relief. Right. To a man who practically lived in the Manhattan social circuit, this was just Tuesday. But when his heat pressed against her again, she let out another sharp gasp.
"Wait! Please, just one more second!"
Julian's patience finally snapped. He caught her throat in one hand—not to hurt, but to command—his eyes burning red. "Woman, stop testing me!"
Terrified, Sienna shrank back, her voice a trembling whisper. "I... I just wanted to ask... can you... can you be gentle?"
"No."
Julian didn't wait for her to finish. His aggressive, powerful frame slammed down, overwhelming her completely. Sienna felt like a tiny boat in an Atlantic gale, tossed and shattered by the waves.
She cried, muffled sobs lost in the pillow, as the man took everything he wanted with the cold arrogance of an emperor.
It was a long night. When the first light of dawn broke over the Manhattan skyline, Julian finally stopped. He pulled the unconscious girl into his arms and fell into a heavy, dark sleep.