High Stakes Seduction - Book 4 (2 page)

Chapter Three

Seeing Thompson waiting for me, as if everything was "normal" set off my anxiety again. I was grateful he was here to pick me up. At least I hadn't been abandoned. He didn't seem surprised by Antonio's absence, but some part of me worried about how much Thompson knew or didn't know.

The limo ride from the airport was only a half-hour long, but it was more than enough time for a storm of thoughts rolling through my head to push me back into a confused depression.

Every bit of logic was telling me to walk away from Antonio Mancini. To get as far away from him as I could, even if it meant finding some crappy job at another restaurant to work off the debt I still owed him.

But memories of our lovemaking kept creeping into my thoughts, sending shivers through me. It was as if my body was begging my brain to not let him go. 

His hands, those wonderful, gentle hands on my hips. His eyes. Those piercing eyes devouring me as I danced for him. His lips. Sweet, succulent lips nipping at my neck, trailing down to my hard, waiting nipples. Suddenly I had such an aching in my loins. An aching for Antonio. My Antonio.
How could I let go of what we'd had
?

No!
My heart froze again. He'd kissed Naomi. And in front of me! After he'd told me it was over between them.

Damn
! After
everything
—and maybe
in spite of
everything—I was not going to compromise myself just because of …
desire
. No matter how deeply that desire sucked at my very soul.

I touched the necklace that still hung around my neck, fingering the flower, remembering the morning he gave it to me. The sweetness of our lovemaking and the specialness of the gift—and what it symbolized.

Or what I had thought it symbolized!
I needed to get a grip on my feelings. I couldn't let my longing or my fantasies about what I thought I meant to him change my desperate, tear-jerkingly painful, hard-won decision.

As the limo pulled up to the little bungalow I shared with my sister—the home Antonio held the mortgage for—I unfastened the necklace and dropped it into the bottom of my purse.

It wasn't going to be easy. I had no idea how Maria and I were going to take care of ourselves now. But my mind was made up.

I was done with Antonio Mancini and his games.

Chapter Four

“Welcome home!” Maria exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my waist the moment Thompson set my luggage on the floor of the living room.

As much as I'd enjoyed the time away, I had to admit, it was nice to be home. And it felt so good to have my big sister’s arms hugging me.

Thompson cleared his throat. "Welcome back, Miss. I'm afraid I need to leave now. May I call you tomorrow, Miss Maria?"

She loosened her grip and I slid into a chair next to her, resting a hand on the armrest of her wheelchair.

"Oh, yes. Please." Maria beamed, but she spoke quietly, as if a little tongue-tied.

I took a moment to watch her face as the chauffeur let himself out. My beautiful sister was positively glowing. I couldn’t remember when I had last seen her this happy. As much as I’d like to believe it was because she missed me, I was pretty sure there was more to her happiness than just my return.

“'Miss Maria'? Why do I get this suspicion that Thompson has been lurking around while I've been gone?” I teased.

She gave me a blushing grin. “I keep telling you that it’s nothing special. He’s just really sweet and I love spending time with his daughter.” She tapped the back of my hand and I moved it off of the armrest. “I have something to show you,” she said excitedly.

She wheeled backward a bit and spun around, heading to the other side of the living room. Her excitement was almost palpable, and I couldn’t resist letting myself get swept away in her happiness, giving me a chance to forget my troubles, if only for a moment.

“What is it?” I asked, following her to the makeshift studio behind the couch.

Even before she flicked on the light, I realized there was something very different.

When I'd left two weeks ago, this part of the living room was still a ghostly graveyard. Easels had stood like phantoms, covered in pristine white sheets that had gathered dust over the past couple of years. Before the accident that took away our mother, as well as Maria’s legs and confidence, the canvases spread around the area, a myriad of colors. Beautiful, sprawling landscapes, taking us far from our little bungalow to the places that Maria painted.

Now, although the white sheets remained, I saw Maria’s art supplies sprawled over the drawing table and around the easels. Brushes, paint, pencils, charcoal.

"Looks like you've been doing a bit of redecorating," I said. "First I notice a brand new ramp on the stoop, and now this? You've been busy while I've been gone."

Her eyes twinkled. "Well, the ramp was Thompson's idea. And a good one at that! I guess he got tired of maneuvering me up the steps."

And hopefully that'll eliminate the chance of another fall like the recent one that had scared the daylights out of me, I thought as I looked at her scattered desk.

“I can’t believe you still have this!” I said, bending to retrieve the paintbrush holder I’d made for her back in grade school. I chuckled, running my fingers along the bumpy edges of the rainbow-colored cup I’d made for her out of modeling clay.

“Of course I do,” Maria said, shuffling through a stack of papers strewn over the table.

“That was when I wanted to do everything my big sister did. Even though I wasn’t very good at arts and crafts.”

Maria grinned. “Good thing someone invented cameras so you could find your artistic expression some other way.” She turned and handed me a small pile of papers. “Look at these,” she said, looking suddenly shy.

I took the papers from her, flipping through them as I gasped. “Maria, you really
have
been drawing again!”

I leafed slowly through the sketches. Fantastical images of fairies and dragons, princesses riding away on unicorns. I realized as I examined the images that they were all related, and I found myself imagining a little girl, whispering her dreams to my sister, and watching them come to life on paper.

“These are Emily’s stories?”

“Yes,” Maria said in a choked voice. “And, oh Angela! The lady we met with—she wants to publish them. Can you imagine?”

I looked up to see her sweet brown eyes glistening, and found myself unable to stop the tears suddenly welling in my own eyes. I sat down on a stool beside my sister and leaned close, pulling her into a huge hug.

“I missed you so much,” I said, but I wasn’t just referring to the two weeks I’d been away. Maria was my best friend as well as my big sister. My role model. And someone I could turn to for anything I needed.

I would give her the world if I could, she had given me so much. But, I couldn’t give her back her art—or the use of her legs. Until now.

My thoughts came crashing back to Antonio Mancini and the promise he’d made. The arrangement we’d made. All I had to do was spend two weeks away with him on a business cruise and he would pay for the experimental surgery that might be able to repair Maria’s damaged spine.

That was the entire reason I’d accepted Antonio’s deal. At least, that’s the way it started out. Even if it had become so much more. It was hard to tear my mind away from the memories of Antonio’s soft lips, his warm caresses.

And his ultimate betrayal, I reminded myself.

But, realistically, none of that mattered—because it had all just been a business arrangement. A way to help my sister.

And, in the larger scheme of everything that had happened, Maria was the only person who mattered.

I hadn’t been the one who’d inspired her to paint again, but, if Antonio kept his promise, I could be the one to help her walk again. Of course, I would never be able to tell her the truth of it.

I felt her arms tighten around me and wondered if somehow she knew my thoughts.

Chapter Five

I clutched at my pillow, feeling the dampness of the cloth beneath my fingers. It had been almost an hour since I’d said good night to Maria. And it had been that long since the tears had begun to fall in earnest as I buried the sound of my sobs in the pillow.

Maria’s voice and her laughter still rang in my ears and her brilliant smile floated in my mind. Her happiness had amplified even more when I’d given her the presents I’d brought back from the trip.

She had ooh'd and aah'd like it was Christmas.

"What a gorgeous scarf!" she'd said, admiring the batiked patterns. "They do a lovely job of blending color and design."

"Sis, I'm so glad you like it! Wait 'til you see the gardens where they dry the fabric—the colors are phenomenal. Here smell this." I held out the perfume for her to smell.

"Yum!" she said, reaching for the bottle.

"That reminds me, did the chocolate arrive okay?"

Maria laughed. "Oh, that was a
big
hit with Emily—and Thompson." She winked at me.

"All gone?" I asked.

"Yep," came the reply.

"Ha, that's what you think," I said, pulling out another small box I'd saved just for us. "You can never have too much chocolate."

"So when are you going to tell me the stories behind all these wonderful treasures?" 

"Soon enough, but first… this is special, and I want you to open it tonight." I handed her the box Tony had bought for her.

She gave me a quizzical look as she untied the bow and pulled off the top.

"Oh, My! These are amazing! Daisies, my favorite flowers—with blue opal centers. I love them!" She smiled up at me. "Where did you find them?"

"Those are a gift from Antonio. He said you deserved something special for … for letting him… take me away from you," my voice caught in my throat, "for two weeks." Suddenly I couldn't stop the tears any longer.

"Sis! Are okay, Ange?"

I blew my nose. I wasn't ready to talk about it. I hadn't even processed it myself yet. "Just tired," I sighed. "It's been two weeks, two emotional weeks. I've missed the heck out of you, and I think I need a good night's rest in my own bed."

She'd given me a sisterly kiss on the forehead and sternly ordered me off to bed, reminding me I could unpack later, suggesting it was more important for me to get my beauty sleep.

But sleep had been the furthest thing from my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about Antonio. Antonio on the ship, Antonio at the store. Antonio in the bedroom. Antonio with Naomi.
Oh, Shut Up!
I told the mocking voice in my head.

Everything came back to Antonio Mancini. This man I hadn't even known a couple of months ago, but who was now so intricately tied to everything. And there was no where I could turn, nothing I could do that wouldn’t remind me of him. Even this house. While he’d never set foot in it, he held the papers—and that gave him an uncomfortably large amount of power over my life. Over
our
lives.

I wanted to be angry. To be self-righteous. But instead I just felt tired. It had been such a struggle. So I closed my eyes, feeling the burn of tears and exhaustion in the sadness that consumed me as I simply gave up instead. This time, soon enough, I was asleep, but not even in my dream was I free of him.

I found myself standing in his office, moonlight streaming through the glass walls. Antonio was there, his silhouette painting a striking picture against the bright lights of the city beyond.

“Cara,” he whispered in that dark, sultry voice of his. The voice that had always made me melt.

But not tonight. Tonight my heart was ice—and no matter what he said, or how he said it, the ice wasn’t melting. “What makes you think you can call me that?” I demanded harshly, stepping towards him.

He turned to face me, though he remained in the shadows. “Because, my beautiful Angela, you are my dearest heart.”

I stepped closer, my chin tipped up to glare into his face. I saw the gleam of his eyes in the silvery glow of the room, but now we were both bound in the shadows. “You want me, yes?” More a statement than a question.

He shifted, closing the gap between us, his hands reaching for my hips, pulling me close. He leaned in to kiss me. "Yes," he breathed.

But I pulled away.

“Not so fast." I placed my index finger on his lips. "You must prove that you want me,” I said, tilting my head. He watched my tongue slide between my lips. “Me. Not Naomi. Not anyone else.
Only me
."

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "You are all I want, Angela."

"Then why do you hurt me?”

It was his turn to pull back. "I…"

I stepped forward quickly, pressing my body sensuously against his and reaching up to brush my lips against his mouth. But when he tried to deepen the kiss, I nipped at his lower lip and tipped my head back once more.

“Do you really want me, Tony?” I whispered, pressing my hands against his chest, feeling the firm, taut muscles beneath my palms, and the heavy beat of his heart. I saw the confusion in his dark eyes, mingled with the desire. He moved backward, guided by my steps until we reached his desk. I applied the slightest bit of pressure one more time and he complied, falling gracefully back into his leather chair.

“Do you?” I asked again, locking my eyes on his.

“You know I do,” he whispered.

I leaned down then, granting him a view of my breasts beneath the neckline of my blouse, then let him have the kiss he had tried to start moments earlier. His soft, smooth lips danced with mine, but when his tongue slipped between my lips, I pulled back once more. I trailed my tongue along the firm line of his jaw until I reached his ear, taking the lobe between my teeth.

“Then show me. Show me how much you want me,” I whispered.

A thrill ran through me as his hands trailed along my thighs, reaching beneath my skirt to firmly cup my ass and pull me onto his lap. I felt the hard pressure of his cock through the thin fabric of my panties. He pressed my shoulders towards the desk, causing me to arch my back. He ran his tongue over the fabric of my blouse, biting me gently and bringing my nipple into a hard little nub. Then in one deft move, he slid his hands back under my butt and lifted me to the edge of the desk.

"Antonio!" I said attempting to close my legs.

"Oh yes, Ms. Tilson," he replied, a soft drawl entering his voice. "May I show you how much I want you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, heart pounding in my throat. "Can you?" I challenged.

He pressed my legs apart, hands running up my thighs and sending shivers ahead of them. He drew the hem of my skirt up ever so slowly, revealing black silk panties beneath. He caressed my inner thighs with his thumbs, moving his chair closer to the desk.

"Kiss me," I said lifting my legs over his shoulders. "Kiss me now." I wrapped my legs around his neck and pulled him to me.

His dark eyes glinted as he grinned at me for just a brief moment, then buried his head under my skirt. I entwined my fingers in his hair as his tongue played along the delicate fabric, slipping inside briefly to taste me. I moaned.

He pulled the edge of the panty aside with one hand, allowing his fingers to slip inside as he sucked, nibbling gently with his lips.

"Do you need more proof?" he asked as he pulled away slightly.

“Convince me,” I moaned.

He laughed softly. Then pulled my panties down as he lifted my legs from his shoulders, somehow slipping the black silk fabric off over my feet and tossing it to the floor.

His fingers stroked the tiny, soft curls at the edge of my sex. He slid first his fingers, then his tongue into my hot wetness, tasting me, teasing my clit with slow, patient circles. Wave upon wave of pleasure danced through me with each pass, as his tongue worked magic between my thighs.

I felt an aching desire, radiating, forking out like lightning with every flick of his tongue. His fingers slowly twisted and turned inside me, and my hips responded in kind as I moved deeper into the heightening ecstasy.

“Do you believe me, mmmm?” he murmured against my lips as I gave myself over to the cresting pleasure.

“Yes,” I breathed, almost unable to speak as the waves began to push me over the edge.

"Mmmm, that's my girl," I heard him murmur as he licked in time with my orgasm.

"Tony," I whispered as I regained control, feeling sweetly drained of all energy. His head was resting on my thigh. I sat up, running my hands through his luxurious hair. I leaned down to kiss his temple. He stirred.

"You liked that?" he looked at me with strangely calculating eyes.

"Mmm, very much. Now it's your turn."

"…That's not necessary," he said.

"Shhh," I put a finger to his lips again, as I'd done before. "I insist." I wiggled down off the table, pushing him back slightly so I had room to slide between his legs.

I reached up to unbutton his pants. But the button wouldn't come loose. In mild frustration I reached for the zipper, intending to gently pull his wonderful throbbing dick out through the opening so I could give it the attention it deserved.

The zipper wouldn't budge either. I struggled with the zipper, cursing under my breath.

Then he started to laugh, a quiet laugh that became louder. A rising, almost uncontrollable, hard-edged laugh. I looked up, startled. Was he mocking me?

The eyes that stared back at me were not the adoring eyes that had gazed at me while we made love on the ocean, nor the hungry eyes that wanted to devour me with his own desire.

No, this was something else. Something cold and tinged with darkness.

Suddenly a wave of fear sent a shiver down my spine.

And then he laughed again as the zipper released. I reached for him and suddenly recoiled. Iridescent green slitted eyes stared back at me from a tiny undulating shiny black and silver face. I wanted to pull back further, but couldn't move. I watched mesmerized as the snake slid towards me, wrapping itself around my neck and pulling me forward.

***

I woke up drenched in a cold sweat, tears streaming down my face as the echoes of Antonio’s laughter sounded in my mind. I yanked at my blankets, tugging them around me with trembling arms.

“Just a dream,” I whispered into the darkness of my bedroom, trying to slow my pounding heart.

But my pulse was not the only part of my body that throbbed insistently.  As sleep gave way to waking, I remembered fleeting glimpses of Antonio, his hands on my thighs, I could feel his tongue tasting me, taking me higher and higher.

I shivered again, remembering the heady sense of power I'd had in my dream. I loved that feeling of being in control. But even in my dream it had all been an illusion.

I started to cry again as I realized how much I was fooling myself about being angry with this man and how hopeless it all was. And it didn't help one bit that Antonio and I both knew who was really in control.