COOPER

Her teasing makes my cock twitch. One look at Vittoria's picture during the briefing at the office a few days ago made it clear this assignment was going to be trouble.

The way her full lips curled in annoyance, told me she is the kind of girl who would derail a man without even meaning to.

Those dark, fiery eyes practically beg, Come tame me, Daddy.And I hate that my brain even goes there. I should have requested a reassignment, but I didn't maybe it's because some stupid part of me wants to prove I can resist her.

"Princess, we're here." I watch her sleepy eyes widen in horror as she takes in the property.

"God, what is that smell?" she says, pinching her nose.

"That is cow dung, princess. Welcome to Texas."

I keep my voice neutral, but the smirk on my face gives me away. This is going to be blockbuster worthy entertainment.

"Nope, I can't do this. Turn the car around right now!" She lunges for the steering wheel, and for a second, I swear she might actually try jumping out of the moving vehicle.

I shove her hands away, the girl has no sense of danger. "I signed a contract to keep you safe, and I promised your mom I would protect you, especially from your own stupidity."

"My mother doesn't understand what she's putting me through," she snaps, crossing her arms. "This is punishment."

Your mother is terrified, I want to say. She thinks she might lose you the way I lost, nope not going there.

"Your mother understands perfectly well. Someone wants you dead, remember?" I kill the engine. "Now get out."

She sighs dramatically, before stepping out, her hips swaying in that infuriating way she probably doesn't even realize she is doing. I round the car and grab my stuff.

I clear, my throat. "Your bags? No one here is your personal assistant."

She turns raising an eyebrow. "Cooper, what are your big muscles for? Put them to work." Then she struts inside, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

I haul them up the gravel path, sweat forming despite the cool air. Who the hell travels with this much stuff for approximately two months of hiding?

"Our maids live in better houses than this dump," she gestures around the living room, with enough disgust written all over her face.

I take a quick look at the decor it isn't villa quality but it's more than decent.

"This isn't a vacation. A flashy house, more your style, defeats the point of laying low." I drop her bags by the stairs, my patience thinning

"At least tell me there's a pool, please."

"Sorry to disappoint princess, no pool. There is a treehouse built by the previous owners."

She narrows her eyes. "Was that a joke? Do I look eight to you, Mr. Robot?"

"You certainly act like a spoiled little girl who needs disciplining." And I instantly regret it, because she licks her lips. Making my pulse skips, fck.

"Careful, Cooper. You might actually have to follow through on that threat."

"Oh, you poor thing," I say dryly, trying to hide my arousal. "You will survive in a four bedroom crib most people would kill to stay in."

"Is this how you treated your ex boyfriends, or am I getting special treatment?"

"I gotta clarify, we're not dating."

"Exactly. I wouldn't date someone like you anyway. You definitely have bipolar disorder or something."

I freeze, shoving my shaking hands into my pockets. My fingers brush the six familiar sides of the die I always carry, keeping the memories from crawling back.

"Go unpack," I say tightly. "Then come down and help make dinner." I walk off before she sees how deep those careless words cut.

I bring in the remaining bags and throw myself into work installing security alarms, checking the perimeter, and changing every lock.

The physical labor helps, it always does. I stock the pantry that by the time I finish, the tremor in my hands eases.

I'm pouring a protein shake into a glass when a crash sounds upstairs, something heavy smashing to the floor, followed by a stream of curses. My instincts kick in instantly.

"Vittoria?" I call, quickly rushing up the stairs. "You okay up there?"

No response, my chest tighten. I push open the bedroom door and freeze.

Vittoria stands in the middle of the room wearing a short, baggy shirt. Sht. She sure has a sexy body. I force the thought away. This kid is an assignment, nothing more.

"How hard did you hit your head?"

"I'm fine." She tries to shove me off, staggering a little.

"You're bleeding. Sit down before you pass out."

"I said I'm fine, Cooper. Stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"Fcking sit brat." I gently guide her to the bed, my hands brushing her warm skin. "Let me see."

She drops her hand, revealing a small gash along her hairline, blood trickling down her temple.

"What happened?" I ask, keeping my voice steady.

"I tried to reach the top shelf, stood on a piece of luggage, and fell."

"Why didn't you just ask for help?"

"Because I'm not some helpless damsel, despite what you think."

"Asking for help isn't weakness, it's common sense. You could have broken your neck."

"But I didn't. I just scraped my head a little."

"That's more than a scrape, you need stitches."

Her eyes widen. "Cooper no fcking way, take me to a hospital."

"The nearest one is forty minutes away, and we're supposed to be invisible, remember?"

She looks at me uncertainly, then nods. "Fine. But if you scar me, I'm suing your agency."

"Don't move an inch," I say, already moving for the first aid kit.

This is what I hate about my profession, you have to use your essential skills to cater to the whims of the wealthy.

COOPER

"Ow! Can't you be more gentle?" the ungrateful brat whines, glaring at me from the corner of her eyes. "Who taught you how to stitch a cut, your crazy ex-boyfriends who craved pain?"

"I picked it up while serving in the army," I reply. She hisses as the needle digs into her skin. "You know, for someone who would never date me, you sure are obsessed with my exes."

"Because I will always pity them for surviving a control freak."

"It's a learned habit. I have four younger siblings, and some men have a kink for being told what to do," I mutter, engaging in this stupid conversation because of her gash.

"Four siblings? That explains so much about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have been bossing people around your entire life. It's second nature to you."

"Someone had to keep them alive, when our parents worked double shifts."

"Now, back to the sex life. What's your own kink?" Her voice drops lower, with curiosity. "What drives you wild?"

I focus on knotting the final stitch. "I'm not telling you that, princess."

She pokes her bottom lips out. "Come on, I'm bored. I haven't had my phone all day."

"It's been fifteen hours."

"Exactly. That's basically forever in normal people time."

"People lived for centuries without smartphones."

"Yeah, and your role models also died of the plague and thought bathing was dangerous."

I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "Fair point."

"I will take any juicy gossip I can get. Rough sex, roleplay, forbidden fruit..." My hands pause above her head. Fck. She guessed my weakness correctly.

"Wait, forbidden?" Her voice shoots up in excitement. "What is it? You cheated with a close friend's partner? Fcked your friend's son?"

"Stay still, Vittoria," I caution the nosy heiress who suddenly thinks she is Oprah Winfrey.

"You fcked your friend's child, you perv!" She is practically laughing at me now. "Was he legal?"

"He was nineteen, I was twenty-three. Stop making it sound worse than it was."

I hastily tie off the stitch, then check my work. "And we're done here." I stand, needing to put some distance between us.

She grabs my biceps, gently tugging me back. "Hey, don't bail. It's just getting good."

"That was a long time ago," I reluctantly admit to her smiling face. "I was young and allowed my dick to do the thinking."

"Did his father know?"

"No, he never suspected. Besides, he went to college, and I got stationed in Afghanistan. That was the last time we spoke."

She searches my face for any trace of emotion. "Do you miss him?"

I think of April for the first time in months. She always knew how to push my buttons, even dropping out of Brown to join my unit.

"Blue, yellow, orange," I whisper, inhaling deeply. "In summary, a pampered troublemaker."

"Like me?" she asks, eyes glinting with interest. "You're attracted to women like me?"

My eyes linger on her lips, daring me to cross the line and take what she is offering.

"Men like you," I say, the lie scraping my throat. I step back, forcing in a breath. "Get dressed and come downstairs."

Vittoria walks in and rests her elbows on the counter, smirking. "So, what gourmet disaster are you cooking up? Fair warning, I'm extremely picky."

"Are you allergic to anything?" I ask, pulling out ingredients and dropping them on the counter.

"Yeah, I am. I'm allergic to boring plating, meals without wine, and junk food." She ticks each off on her fingers. "I have to maintain this body."

"I meant medical allergies," I say, shooting her an unimpressed look. "Not Her Highness's preferences."

"Then no, Major. No life threatening allergies that you need to worry about."

I mentally run through the recipe again. "Grab the pasta from the shelf, we're making Pasta Puttanesca."

She drops the pack on the counter and perches on a stool. "You mind telling me what the hell you're doing?"

She taps her acrylic nails loudly on the island counter. "Sitting down, duh."

"When I said we would prepare this, I meant your ass too."

"Nope, you're on your own."

This annoying little brat. "Get your butt up and turn on the stove," I growl at her shocked expression.

"Or what, Cooper?" That spark of defiance in her eyes makes my cock throb.

I narrow my eyes, stepping closer. "Vittoria, don't test me."

She rolls her eyes but finally stands, moving beside me.

"Which button do I press? It's not turning on," she says, fiddling with the stove.

I watch the clueless girl struggle. This is a basic life skill, for goodness' sake. I take her hand in mine and guide it over the controls.

"This one ignites the burner while this one regulates the heat, got it?"

"Yes, professor."

"Here, princess." I place a knife in her palm. "Chop the anchovies, garlic, onion, and pitted olives." That should be simple enough for her rich ass.

She picks up an anchovy between two fingers, making a face. "This is so gross, why can't we just order takeout?"

"Because we're in the middle of nowhere, and constant delivery draws attention.'"

I turn to heat up the pan when I hear, "fck!" The knife clattering to the floor as she clutches a bloody thumb.

I exhale loudly, this kid is hopeless. "Is it deep?" I ask, wrapping my hand around her thumb.

"Don't touch me! I'm not used to this, and you're not fcking listening! I hope you're happy!" she yells, storming upstairs to her room.The bedroom door slams hard enough to rattle the walls.

I let her go. Chasing Vittoria Giordano would only make things worse, so I keep cooking, waiting it out.

I finish chopping the veggies she abandoned, toss them into the pan with olive oil, and let the kitchen fill with the sharp, briny aroma of garlic.

VITTORIA

"Where is the wine? You don't expect me to eat this without it, do you?" I complain, folding my arms over my ribs with a glare.

Cooper gives me a dry look from across the table. "This isn't a romantic dinner, Vittoria. I'm not here to indulge your spoiled whims. Now eat."

I stare at the pasta, my traitorous stomach growling loud enough that I'm certain he can hear it. I twirl some onto my fork and shove it into my mouth, bracing for the worst.

My eyes widen instead. This has to be the best Puttanesca I have ever tasted the perfect balance of salty, and tangy.

"It's too salty," I lie, already going for another yummy bite. The pasta practically melts on my tongue. "With all the drama earlier, I expected it to be delicious."

"Judging by how fast you're eating, you could have fooled me." Cooper leans back in his chair, amusement dancing in those infuriating blue eyes. "Next time you lie, try not to contradict yourself with your fork."

"Don't flatter yourself into thinking you're some world class chef. It's just hunger," I shoot back, shoving another forkful into my mouth.

Cooper's eyes linger on me as he chews slowly. "How is your thumb?"

I raise my hand from the pocket of my floral skirt, wiggling my thumb at him. "Bandaged up. All thanks to you, of course."

"I see you're still blaming me for your inability to handle a kitchen knife," he says in that mocking tone that makes my blood boil.

I point my fork at him accusingly, bits of pasta flying everywhere. "You should be apologizing for endangering my life!" I drop the fork onto the table with a sharp clatter. "You know what? I'm done being bossed around by a fcking Americano."

Cooper's eyes glint dangerously. "Let's make something clear, brat. In this house, you will do exactly as I say. If you don't, there will be consequences."

My heart pounds at the intensity of his voice, but I force a scoff, even as my pulse quickens. "You wouldn't dare lay a finger on me. I will tell Papà."

"Rat me out and see if I care." His voice gets lower. "But while you're here, misbehave and I will deal with you."

Heat surges through me as I inch closer, my chair scraping against the floor. "You're forgetting yourself," I snap at the asshole. "You're just a glorified babysitter Papà hired to guard his asset. I won't fall in line like everyone else."

Cooper's gaze drops to my lips, and this time I don't waste the chance. I press my mouth to his, pouring every ounce of frustration, anger, and desire into the kiss.

His hand shoots out instantly, shoving me in the chest with enough force to send me stumbling back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice is rough, betraying his arousal despite the rejection.

I straighten, forcing confidence I don't fully feel, my lips still tingling from the brief contact. "Stop pretending. You can push me away all you want, but your body wants me."

"You should add delusional to your growing list of problems," he mutters, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as if he can erase what just happened.

His words again sting more than they should, because men fight to fck me, and yet here I am, practically begging for attention from a confused man who keeps pushing me away.

I stand abruptly and walk to my room without another word. Fine. If he wants to keep lying to himself, I will get what I want somewhere else.

~~~

~Later that night, miles away from the prison and her hot jailer.~

The bar pulses with energy, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the bass thrumming through my chest.

I managed to slip out after Cooper retreated to his room, and the freedom tastes sweeter than any honey.

"Two shots of tequila," I call to the bartender over the music, leaning against the sticky bar top.

"Make that four." A man slides up beside me, smiling confidently .

His dark hair, strong jaw and blue eyes is close enough to Cooper's. "You must be new around here, I would have remembered a pretty face like yours."

I hike up my pink lacy gown, letting the hem brush my thighs as I shift to face him. "I guess the excessive booze must have clouded your memory."

"Trust me, I would never forget you." He clinks his glass against mine, then downs his tequila in one gulp.

I quickly mirror him, relishing the burn as it slides down my throat. "You're right, I'm a tourist, here to enjoy myself."

A mischievous grin spreads across his face. "Well, lucky you. You just found the guy who knows how to have a good time. Consider me your tour guide for the night."

I sway a little to the music as I take in my surroundings. "Is that your usual line for newbies at hippie bars?"

"Only the ones who look like they need a distraction." He signals for another round. "Want to do something wild to make that person disappear from your mind?"

I freeze slightly. "What makes you think there's someone?"

"You're a beautiful girl, drinking alone, with that look in your eyes?" He nods toward the center of the bar, where a mechanical bull spins wildly, "So tell me gorgeous, you ever tried the bull ride?"

I watch the current rider squeal as she falls into the padded pit, her friends cheering from the sidelines. "No fcking way, that looks terrifying."

"I can teach you." He extends a hand to me, his smile widening. "Come with me, be brave baby."

Maybe it's the tequila or it's just the image of Cooper's face when he pushed me away but I take his hand.

First, he mounts the bull then lifts me up so I sit facing him, my legs wrapped around his waist.

"Hang on tight, baby," he says, his hot breath tickling my ear as his hands settle on my waist.

The bull jolts to life, rocking slowly at first. I grip his thighs for support, feeling the flex of muscle beneath my palms. "See? Not terrifying at all, just let your body go with the flow."

The bull picks up speed, bucking and spinning. His grip tightens on my waist, fingers digging into my hips possessively. Oh fck yes, to hell with Cooper and his stupid rules, this is amazing.