High Stakes Seduction - Book 1 (6 page)

A door opened across the room as if on cue, and Antonio stepped out, followed by a large, red-faced man, puffing away on a cigar, despite the
No Smoking
signs.

I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, sipping on the liquid courage as I made my way to the other side of the room. Antonio seemed to realize my eyes were on him, and he tilted his head, smiling at me, while absentmindedly rubbing the wrist where his gold Rolex sat just below his cuff. He turned back to the conversation as the large man became more animated, puffing angrily on his cigar.

"I’ve already agreed to hear you out, Mr. Harden," I heard Antonio say in that rich, quiet voice of his. "There's no need to press me further."

"But I have a couple beauties you might like to look over," the man said, speaking around the cigar. "Perhaps you could drop by the
warehouse
later this evening."

"Some other time," Antonio said, and turned his back on Harden.

Realistically, I should not have been surprised to see that he treated others as dismissively as he treated me.

"Antonio, I need to—"

He leaned close to me, murmuring in my ear. "Perfect timing," he said, slipping an arm around my waist and spinning me around to walk with him. "Don’t look back."

I glanced up at him and he gave me a sidelong glance that I took as a warning. He was weaving through the crowd purposefully, but still taking the time to casually nod and greet people as we passed. I did my best to smile politely and try not to stumble in my heels as we escaped into the almost empty front foyer.

"Well done, Angela," Antonio said as Thompson pulled the limousine away from the gallery. "I'm very pleased with your demeanor and performance tonight. I'm sure you'll do as well with the other events. Now, for tomorrow, we'll start your apprenticeship with Priscilla, our floor manager. Welcome onboard."

I felt like laughing, even though I was frowning. "Well, I’m happy I passed your little test, Mr. Mancini," I said biting my lip, "But I have a few questions for you."

"Priscilla will answer your questions."

"That’s not what I meant," I said, but he silenced me with a single raised finger as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his buzzing cellphone.

Frustrated once again, I folded my arms and turned away angrily as he responded to the text message. In the meantime, I stared out the window, quietly seething over my predicament. My mind was in turmoil, confused about what I’d overheard, angry at the way Antonio treated me, and angrier at myself for going along with any of this in the first place.

Was this situation and money worth it? It might take me a lot longer, but would it really be so bad to work off my father’s debt some other way? Some way that didn’t leave me feeling guilty, worried, and confused?

I gasped as a tickle gently brush along my neck. I’d been so absorbed by my own thoughts that I didn’t realize he had ended his call.

"You really do look beautiful tonight, Angela."

I turned my head to find Antonio had moved closer to me. He was watching me with deep intensity, not with the appraising, distant look I had come to expect. His gaze held that strange something else I had seen earlier. The look that softened the lines of his face, implying that there was more to this man than simply business—or anything else I might suspect of him.

My anger and frustration melted into a smile. "Thank you, Antonio."

He chuckled, the corner of his lip lifting slightly. "I thought you might have forgotten my first name."

"Oh." I put a hand to my lips. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be," he smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face. "This may be a business relationship, but there is no need to remain formal. I already asked you to call me Antonio."

The warmth of his breath brushed my shoulder and the sweet scent of champagne mixed with the woody scent of his cologne. The limousine was suddenly too warm, and I silently cursed myself, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks.

"Wait for my call," he said. Then he laughed as I stared at him blankly. "I'll arrange for Thompson to pick you up tomorrow. Until then, I thank you for a lovely evening, Angela. Have a good night."

"What?" I realized that the car had come to a stop and looked out the window to see my little house sitting at the end of the driveway. I was suddenly embarrassed, ashamed to have him see where I lived.

In a house he owned
. I reminded myself.

That thought sobered me and I found myself scrambling out of the car the moment Thompson opened the door. "Good night," I said without looking back. I couldn't bear to have him see the tears that burned my eyes.

The limousine didn’t pull away until I’d closed the front door behind me. Through the window I watched the tail lights disappear down the street, my thoughts in turmoil.

"Well," came a voice, "was it fun?"

"Maria! Why are you still awake?"

She wheeled into the front foyer, her eyes bright in the dim moonlight. "I couldn’t sleep. I heard the limo pull up and thought I’d come out to check up on you. Soooo….? Tell me, tell me!"

I smiled, as some of the tension in my chest melt away. Her happiness was infectious. "It was… interesting," I said, hobbling across the living room and slumping into the couch. "But I’m glad to get out of these shoes!" 

Maria laughed. "You’re going to have to give me way more than that, sis!"

"Oh all right," I grinned. "Well, Thompson picked up Antonio at his place—which was amazing, by the way. It’s one of those gorgeous white mansions with the marble steps leading up to dark wood doors. You know the kind Mom and Dad used to drive by when we were kids?"

"Yes, our dream home," she giggled excitedly. "What was it like on the inside?"

"Antonio was waiting for us, so I didn’t get to go in for a peek."

"Oh," Maria pouted slightly. "Maybe next time then," she added with a wink. "What did Antonio think of his hot date?"

I laughed, reaching up to pull the pins out of my hair. "He kept telling me how great I looked. I really have to thank you for helping me with all of this." I shook my head, letting my hair tumble over my shoulders. The soft cinnamon waves brushed over my skin, reminding me of Antonio’s touch. I glanced at Maria, who was watching me expectantly. I blushed.

"Aha!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "You definitely can’t give me a look like that and not spill the beans!"

"Fine," I said, pushing myself up off of the couch, heading toward my bedroom. "You want the story, then you have to help me get out of this dress."

She followed me eagerly, unzipping the back of my dress and helping me put the delicate diamond jewelry back into their boxes, to be returned in the morning.

"The gallery was amazing, Maria," I said, trying to focus on the story I wanted to paint for her. She was so happy. I didn’t want to bring her down with the truth of what was really going on—especially since I wasn’t exactly sure
what
was going on. "The food was delicious and the designs were off the hook. I don’t know who could ever wear any of the clothes the mannequins had on, but they definitely were the height of artistic expression. I wish I'd had my camera with me." I sighed. "I’ve certainly got a lot to learn about the fashion industry."

"And what about the handsome Mr. Mancini?"

I glanced at her and smiled coyly. "He was a very gracious date. He introduced me to all sorts of fascinating people that I’d never have even dreamed of meeting in a million years. Everything was so glamorous," I said, letting the dress slip off my body. My breath caught as the cool, sensuous fabric flowed over my skin. I shuddered briefly, imagining Antonio’s hands trailing the fabric down my body, and then mentally shook myself, annoyed that he was having this effect on me.

"Maria," I said, turning away from her so she couldn’t see the heat rising in my cheeks, "can we chat tomorrow? I know you really want to hear this, but I’m exhausted. I'll tell you everything over pancakes tomorrow morning, first thing okay?"

Maria tilted her head and gave me a playful pout. "Oh all right, princess. You get your beauty sleep."

I bent down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before she turned to wheel out of my bedroom. I followed her to her room and helped her into bed, promising again that I’d tell her everything in the morning.

When I got back to my room, I picked up the dress again, holding it against my body as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror.

"You really do look beautiful tonight, Angela," Antonio’s voice whispered huskily in my mind.

The soft, silky fabric of the dress brushed against my skin as I set it aside, looking at myself in the mirror. I was wearing only a black lace strapless bra and matching panties, and I suddenly found myself imagining Antonio standing behind me, his hands sliding around my waist.

I was surprised at the affect Antonio Mancini already seemed to have on me. It wasn't just because I hadn't dated for over nine months before I'd left college over a year ago. And it wasn't just because he was by far the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. And it wasn't just because of the easy, almost careless way he had of maintaining total control. Oh, it was all those things, for sure. But it was also that deep, haunted look I'd seen in his eyes when he'd looked at me tonight.

"I don’t even know who you really are…," I whispered, trying to bring my wayward imagination under control.

But the relative isolation of taking care of Maria left me far more aroused than I'd expected.

My college boyfriend had turned out to be a two-timing man-whore who not only couldn't be trusted, but was selfish beyond compare. So long as he was satisfied, he didn't care whether I was or not. All the nights I'd cried myself to sleep in frustration when he'd called me frigid because I couldn't come as quickly as he did. Me.
Frigid
.

Those two years together, before I'd found the jerk
in my bed
with my roommate's sister, had only served to fuel my distrust of men in general—and of older men in particular. I'd learned a long time ago that I was far from frigid. If I ever found a man who could satisfy me as well as I'd learned to satisfy myself. Well, then,
maybe
I might give him a chance. Maybe. But in the meantime, well… I still had my own spectacularly vivid imagination, and out of frustration I'd learned not to be shy about taking care of myself.

My body was already responding to the delicious thoughts forming in my mind. I bit my lower lip, sucking in a breath as my hands moved over my hips, imagining they belonged to Antonio. My fingers roamed over my body, sliding over my breasts. My luscious, tender breasts, which had begun to ache with my growing desire. I moaned softly as my fingers brushed over my nipples, hardening beneath the lacy fabric.

I unhooked my bra, imagining Antonio’s lips on my shoulders, his hands reaching around to caress my breasts, gently squeezing the taut nipples.

I stepped backward, lowering myself onto the bed and slipped beneath the sheets. I closed my eyes, picturing him sliding in above me. I imagined gazing up into his hungry, piercing eyes, tracing the lines of his firm chest with my fingertips.

My hands moved from my breasts, inching down to slip beneath my panties to find my eagerly awaiting sex. I gasped as I slid a finger between my lips, shocked to find how wet I was. My fingers began to move, almost of their own accord as my mind conjured images of Antonio hovering above me, murmuring in my ear, telling me over and over how beautiful I was.

I groaned as my fingers worked tiny circles over my clit, slipping them inside myself and feeling the warm, slick juices of my desire. I felt the throbbing ache of my need rising within me and let my fingers move faster, my other hand fondling my breasts. I bit back another moan, as a pulse ran through me, and my mouth opened as I imagined Antonio’s lips descending onto mine. I turned my head, burying my face in my pillow to stifle the scream that was building within me, just as I crested the wave of my climax.

I caught one last fleeting glimpse of my dream man before I opened my eyes, my vision momentary blurred as my body shuddered in the aftermath of my fantasy.

"Who are you, Antonio Mancini?" I whispered into the night. And then the bigger question. “What are you doing to me?”

"I don’t kiss and tell, Maria," I said with a wink, carefully blowing on my hot cup of coffee.

Maria sat at the table in front of me, digging into a stack of pancakes. "No fair, Sis," she pouted around a mouthful, "you promised to tell me the rest this morning. I won’t let you distract me with my favorite breakfast."

I laughed. "I know. I’m just teasing you. All right. So, Antonio kept me close most of the night, which was so reassuring. I probably would have ended up as an awkward wallflower without his arm around me. I am so not ready to mingle with these people, Maria. Everyone is so elegant and, well, rich!"

"That’s so sweet that he didn’t make you feel out of place."

I nodded, guilty over the web of lies I was weaving, but I didn’t have the heart to dampen Maria’s enjoyment with my vague worries. Or, with what I thought might be the truth. I took a sip of coffee to cover my frown and pressed on with my fairy tale. "Well, he did leave me for a few minutes though, so he could meet with a colleague. I took the time to freshen up my make-up. You wouldn’t believe the washroom, Maria! It was like its own little apartment inside. It was so big!"