Lonzo: Book 1 (Tycoon Series Book 1) (12 page)

Oh, yeah?
The animal in him prodded.

Yes, tu cazzo
, the rational part of him managed to say.

So big boy, how long will it take before you could do her again?
The animal won’t shut up.

How the fuck would I know? It’s not as if I could call a meeting with the members of my executive committee and put that item in the agenda like: Updates on the Agnelli accusations. Any progress regarding the escalating labor issues? And oh—by the way…how long will I have to wait after fucking a virgin to do it a second time?

Wait, what the fuck was he doing? He was now talking to himself like a
sticchiu
? Enough of this shit, Vitale!

Shutting off the water, he got out of the shower and dried himself quickly with a towel before wrapping the same around his waist. He then stopped by the vanity to get a washcloth for her. As he turned the tap to dampen the cloth, he had already made the decision. She would be his newest mistress.

His.

He liked the taste of the word around his mouth, he thought as he stepped out of the bath.

He felt every inch the smug motherfucker until the sight of the bed made him stop in his tracks.

She was gone. The bed, empty, save for the bloody stains on the sheets.

His mind began to race, it came up with all sorts of scenarios. All of them adverse.

He’d been played and what a big sucker he was.

Cazzo. Cazzo. Cazzo!

Chapter Seven

It was the sound of the running water while
he was taking the shower that snapped Jordana out of her trance.

She jumped from the bed, grabbing the top sheet in her wake, wrapping it around her nakedness sarong-style. She carefully opened the heavy wooden door. Peeking at the hallway, she quietly uttered a prayer of thanks that no one was up this early to witness her walk of shame. She ran like hell toward her room, hoping that her own door was open. It was unlocked, to her relief. She must’ve left it open after falling into a suspiciously deep sleep last night.

Heart racing, she quickly shut the door, leaning weakly behind it. For several seconds, she just stood there with her eyes closed, trying to process everything. How in the world did she end up sleeping with a stranger? And why did she give in so easily, like a cat in heat? She had been so careful all these years only to have her v-card punched with a one-night stand. Brilliantly irresponsible.

Nice work, Ms. Independent.
A mocking voice inside her head drawled.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

How did she end up in his bed in the first place? Her memory was patchy.

The only logical explanation was she was drugged. She mentally recoiled. That would explain her lack of inhibitions, her too relaxed physical and mental state. She was extremely cautious whenever she was out on location shootings or if she didn’t know the photographer and his crew. She never drank or ate anything except if it came from her own stash. She had near-run-ins with several rohypnol-totting people in the biz. She took all precautions to avoid being victimized.

Who? Who would dare drug her here, at the
castello
of the groom-to-be? Why here of all places? On the eve of her best friend’s wedding?!

She shook her head to clear it.

Someone must have planned this but who? What was the motive? She racked her brain for answers and came up with none. She couldn’t think of anyone who was that angry with her.

There was only one other person who may have the answers to all of this.

The very one who initiated her into the joys of the act.

She closed her eyes again, her dismay intense.

Had she been raped? Was it possible that he was the one who planned this? Was all the bone-melting passion drug-induced?

Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod!

She could feel recriminations creeping in slowly, adding further turmoil to her emotions.

She cradled her head and slid to the floor. She wanted to pack everything up and take the first flight to New York so she can pretend that last night never happened. But she couldn’t. She just can’t let Mel down on the most important day of her life.

Who was he? Well, obviously he was a guest or even a relative of the groom. She’d probably meet him at the wedding later that day.

She better prepare for that eventuality. What would she say to him?

She had to think of something!

She had to confront him and get answers. The very idea of facing him again made her flinch. It would be difficult to prove she’d been raped. Sure, he took her a bit roughly but she was a very willing participant. She didn’t feel revulsion when he touched and did all that sexually wicked things he did. Her body turned traitor on her and came alive in his hands.

She lost control over her body.

The realization tore her up. She had every opportunity presented and dangled in front of her in the past. She had practically worked with the best-looking male specimens in the world yet she never felt something as instantaneous as that.

The press would have a field day once their noses got a whiff of this. After all, she naively said she didn’t believe in premarital sex. How she fell off her high horse right now. She can’t even piece everything together. She lost her virginity to a virtual stranger who may have a hand on this all along.

But then again, so what if she lost it in the most dubious of circumstances? Her virginity brought her nothing but grief. She never really held on to it. Now that the deed was done, she can finally put this episode behind her. Besides, physically she may have been one, but in reality she had lost her innocence a long time ago.

She would forgive herself one day for sleeping with that man. She would. She was not the first woman who stood up from a bad fall. One act of foolishness would not define her as a woman.

Her thoughts comforted her for the time being, gave her enough strength to pull herself up from the floor and march to the bathroom to wash all traces of the sordid event from her sensitized skin.

Lonzo felt like a caged panther
as he impatiently waited for the sun to rise so he could start with his search. He was left stewing in anger after she left. He was tempted to knock on every guest’s room to check her whereabouts, but common sense won.

His gut told him she was still here. She’d surely turn up at church. Probably pleased at herself for pulling off her duplicity.

He wasn’t sure who invited her here. Rocco’s family was quite big, some of whom lived abroad and flew all the way to the country for the shackling affair. Was she Mel’s guest? One of her friends from the academe? He mulled on the idea. She looked way too fresh, too young. Remembering how innocent and responsive she was didn’t help at all…as he felt himself growing a boner with his thoughts.

He wanted her like he never wanted another.

And he intended to have her again.

After dressing in a pair of dark slacks and a shirt, he went out of his room to have a look around. He met Rocco on his way down the staircase.

“There you are! I thought you’ll never show up! Been waiting for you for ages. My mother kept on asking me what time we’re leaving,” his friend went on.

He quirked his brow at Rocco.

“We are? And whose excellent idea was this? Yours?” he drawled.

Rocco looked annoyed.

“Erase the thought. And for chrissakes…don’t give me that look! This wasn’t my idea, man. It’s not my fault mama was too old-fashioned to see reason. She said it’s bad luck for Mel and I to see each other before the wedding! I was railroaded into agreeing!” his friend ranted.

“Is that so?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Fuck you, man. You’ll join me in my fucking misery,” Rocco muttered.

Lonzo was now pissed at the change of plans. He was hell-bent on finding the woman first. Because of this traditional bridal bullshit, there was no way he could ask around about the mystery woman. It irked him big time.

“What’s next? You want me to hold your hand?”

“Come on, stop giving me the shits! Go get the monkey suit. I’m car-less at the moment. The girls will be using the Bentley. You have to drive me over to Uncle Carlo’s place. We’ll have our blasted breakfast there. Go on. No more dilly-dallying!” Rocco was shouting, looking stressed. He’d never seen Rocco like this. Anxious and nervous. Jumpy.

Lonzo raised his eyebrows at his friend.

“Fuck off.”

Rocco grinned and tried his old puppy-eyes tactics on him next.

He finally relented. “You owe me big time for all these shitty things, monkey suit included!”

The cur laughed.

“You sure you still want to go through this? I can put you in the trunk of my car. Just say the word.”

His friend looked at him sharply. “Don’t start, Lonz. I’m not in the mood for your anti-marriage sermons. Just get the freaking tux so we can leave.”

Lonzo smirked at his friend, enjoying Rocco’s bemused expression for a few minutes more. Hell. And the poor bastard still wanted to get married.

“I rest my case,” he managed to say.

And even though he wasn’t a fan of marriage, he reined his tongue. He had never seen his friend so infatuated with a woman before. The guy got it bad.

He went back to his room to fetch his overnight bag and the suit.

As for his mysterious little virgin, he’d deal with her later.

Besides, a little anticipation wouldn’t kill him.

Jordana almost slumped in relief
as she watched the roaring Ferrari speed its way out of the
castello
, driven by the man that she was avoiding to see at all cost.

She was about to leave her sanctuary when she spied him leaving his room. Thank goodness she was quick to shut her door.

She wasn’t ready to see him in the clear light of day. Not when she still felt so unbalanced.

She heard him talking to another man in rapid Italian earlier and from what she could pick in her rusty Italian, the second man was asking him to leave because it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride.

Hoe. Lee. Cow.

She broke out in a cold sweat.

Had she just slept with the
groom
?!

The idea made her want to throw up.

What have I done?!

She almost jumped when someone knocked at her door.

“Dana? You up?” The voice sounded like Mel

Yeah. I’m up and about all right…oh, by the way, Mel…I may have slept with your groom last night…are we still best friends?

She was freaking inside her head.

“Dana? Are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”

“Y-Yes. Of course, babe. C-Come in…” she said while trying to gather her wits. Oh, what a mess!

Mel entered, still in her trademark shirt and cut-off shorts, her face radiating with happiness.

“Dana!” Mel shrieked as she launched herself like a little rocket to hug her.

Jordana felt her skin grow colder. How could she do this to her friend?

“Why are you so pale? Don’t tell me you’re still jetlagged!”

“N-No. Y-Yes. Maybe. A bit,” she stammered.

Mel placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous! I won’t believe that! That should be my line!”

She latched on that and even managed a nervous laugh. “Uhm. I guess, that must be it.”

Mel smiled broadly. “If you weren’t so late last night, you would’ve met Lonzo.”

What?

“Lo..Lonzo?”

“Rocco’s bestfriend. Lonzo Vitale. The best man at the wedding. They already left the
castello
a few minutes ago. My soon-to-be mother-in-law ordered the boys to stay out of our hair. For the meantime, anyway. They’re too distracting.”

Yes. I know he already left…oh heavens! Get me out of here now!

She felt
awful
.

“Lonzo occupied the room next to yours,” Mel added pointing at the direction of the room where Jordana spent the wee hours of the morning entwined with a man she didn’t know. She almost dropped to the floor in relief.

Lonzo. His name was Lonzo.

Now she finally knew his name. He was no longer “that stranger” she slept with. And the most important thing was, he was not the groom! She almost cried at the knowledge she didn’t screw up her best friend’s wedding.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you teary eyed all of a sudden?” Mel asked, concerned.

She giggled shakily before hugging her friend. Tightly.

“Hormones, hunny-bunny. Must be that time of the month.”

Mel asked her to join her for brunch, finally meeting the gracious and very kind
Contessa
Maria, who welcomed her with open arms.