A Weekend of Misbehaving (6 page)

Viola poured herself some whisky and winked. “You just snubbed a twenty-year-old scotch.”

Alice shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for speaking your mind. That’s one of the things I like about you, Alice. We haven’t known each other long, but I get this feeling you’re always genuine.”

Genuine? Alice touched her throat to will away the nausea floating up. The woman was being nice to her, and worse, maybe even liked her—and what was she doing? She was lying about an engagement that never took place. To a selfish man that no sane woman would ever commit to. “Genuine gets me in trouble.”

Viola took another step toward her. Clearing her throat, she studied Alice in such a way that Alice had no choice but to draw in a breath as deep as the Grand Canyon. Was Viola on to her? Oh no. She might hate Mr. B right now, but damn it, she still needed the money. Now more than ever. Which meant keeping the charade going.

“You didn’t know he wanted to move to New York, did you?”

Alice eyed the half-empty scotch and shook her head. “No.”

“I could tell. What do you want?”

Alice brought her hands together, her fingers fidgety. “It’s complicated to explain.” The understatement of the millennium. Jeez. If she explained her conundrum, she’d be toast. And no money—yup, somehow her fake engagement stint had to go on.

“Then don’t.” Viola flashed a reassuring smile.

“It hasn’t been about what I want for a while. And I’m not talking about Lorenzo. He’s wonderful to me.”

“Your sister?”

She nodded. Was it wrong to vent to Viola? Of course she knew it wasn’t just about her sister. Sure, Rachel was in the center of it all, but there was also Brenda. She couldn’t expect the six-year-old to raise herself. Mom was great, but she just wasn’t up for it. Such a cliché…
The hard-working nurse who didn’t take good care of herself.

“I don’t want to pry into your personal life, my dear, but something I learned from my failed marriage is that you can’t rely on someone for everything.”

“I don’t. But I’ve had people rely on me for so long, I don’t know what I want anymore.” Was she lying to Viola or to herself? She had delayed, no, buried her dream of pursuing a career as a fashion designer because it was an indulgence she couldn’t afford.

“I hope you’ll sort things out.
Buonasera
.”

Alice licked her lips. She couldn’t tell Viola she had to drop college and decline a couple good work opportunities because of her family. She had promised Dad to look after them, and that’s what she’d been doing. He had attended and cheered her on at all her softball games as a child. He had taught her to ride a bike. He had even bought her the first professional-grade sketch pad and pens so she could practice to be a stylist one day.

How could she deny him anything?

Although caring for her sister on her bad days was draining and depressing, she knew her mother couldn’t handle it alone. And what fault did little Brenda have in all this? Wasn’t she worthy of a somewhat normal childhood, like she and Rachel had? Alice would ensure that. It was the only way Brenda would have a shot at a healthy, caring upbringing.

What do
you
want?
The accented words from the Italian woman rang in her ears long after she’d gone to her room, showered, and slipped into a pair of pink pajamas. She sat on the bed, glanced at the empty side next to hers, and wondered where Lorenzo could be.

In three days, everything would change. They would go back to Austin, and she would have to start looking for a new job—and responsibilities would fall and crush her like a boulder. Missing taking care of Cara would be the worst—she’d grown to love her as if she were her own. Almost as much as she loved Brenda. Sadness welled up, and she closed her eyelids to avoid the tears brimming her eyes.

If anything, the fancy-ass whisky only made her more emotional. Fantastic. The click of the handle prompted her to straighten her shoulders and face the French doors. Lorenzo walked in, his dinner jacket hanging on his shoulder, hair tousled, and shoes in his hand. He dropped the shoes and jacket on a chair and dashed to the bathroom without a glance her way.

The sound of running water had her sit up. God, this would be awkward. Should she pretend to be asleep? She fluffed the pillow. Nah. That was way too Lifetime Movie.

What do
you
want?

She wanted him. No.
Had
wanted, until he acted like a grade-A jerk at the beach, blackmailing her into not changing her mind. The en-suite door opened, and a cloud of steam announced his presence. He wore a pair of black pajama bottoms, and her mouth dropped at the sight of his wide chest. Droplets of water that had undoubtedly survived his vigorous towel drying glided down the hair of his pectorals, and she couldn’t stop ogling his taut nipples and washboard abdomen. The patch of hair dusting his olive skin vanished under the waist of his pants.
Sweet Jesus.

He opened the closet and stared at his shirts hanging there before closing it and reaching inside his leather suitcase. Was he looking for a pajama top to put on and deny her that gorgeous view?

“Is it okay if I take the right side?” she said, lounging on the bed like this was her casual Friday night.

Lorenzo nodded, rubbing his eyes. Great, so Mr. Selfish was so mad he couldn’t even look at her? And she was drooling over this jerk? Yes.

She reached for the carafe and poured some water in a glass, which she swallowed faster than she had the whisky. Not even the minty toothpaste had yanked that smoky aftertaste from her throat.

He turned off the lamp and plopped beside her. The heat from his skin was like an electric force, sending currents to her in waves, each time harder. When she dreamed about going to bed with her boss, this wasn’t it.

Hell, was Lorenzo Baldi one more thing she couldn’t have? One more college? One more career? One more regular, semi-decent boyfriend? One more healthy sister?

She flipped to her side, facing away from him. Her cute pajama top burned on her skin, and she undid one button, anxious for a breeze to sweep in and save her from overheating. His leathery scent teased her nostrils, and she scooted to the very edge of the bed, her foot pushing out the sheet. One more inch and she’d face-plant on the floor.

The mattress shifted beneath her, and she could tell he was also fidgeting. Great. Sharing a bed with Lorenzo, the nearness of his body, triggered a tingle of excitement that rushed through her.

“Alice.” His voice cut through the room. “There’s still a lot we need to talk about. I apologize for being abrasive at the beach. I’m not good at this stuff.”

She cleared her throat. “Really? I thought being abrasive came naturally to you.”

“I mean apologizing. You are very important to me. I lost my cool,” he said, and she could kick herself for sucking in her breath. Apologizing wasn’t his forte, sure, but what kind of idiot was she? Her bones were almost melting under his statement that she mattered to him.

“Why did you lose your cool?” she asked, deciding not to let him off the hook so easily. “I understand this situation is stressful, but you acted like a real prick back there. Why?”

A hissing sound cut the silence, like he was sucking air through his teeth.

“You can’t stand me, right? You can’t stand the fact you kissed me at the grotto,” she said, and slapped her forehead with her palm.
What the fuck, Alice? Why did you just say that?

“Oh, I can stand you. What’s killing me is just how much I can stand you…and how inappropriate that is. You have been nothing but incredible since we got here. You’re loyal, you’re kind, you’re…”

Oh. My. God
. Keeping still was a problem. Her thighs trembled, and her sex throbbed. She was in bed with him, and unless she shook off that sensual sensation flooding her body, there was no way in hell she would fall asleep. “Go on.”

“That’s it. I was a prick. I’m not good at voicing my emotions nor do I want to be. I’m lucky you came along with me on this trip, Alice, even though I may act like the opposite.” She heard him popping his knuckles.

“Okay. You’re forgiven. Care to elaborate on the inappropriate part?” she asked, rushing to say the words before she changed her mind. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, desperate to find something to do. Her stomach sank. Was there a possibility he, too, wanted her? Or did she misread the whole situation?

He turned to his side. She could make out the outline of his body in the pale moonlight seeping through the curtains. The man was staring at her, for crying out loud. What was he thinking? That she didn’t have a pulse between her legs? “You work for me, Alice. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way. You don’t have to kiss me or do anything else to keep your job or to get that money. That’s not how I operate.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I kissed you because I wanted to,” she said in a throaty voice. God. God, God, God. She clamped her eyes shut, like she hung at the edge of a precipice and had to choose between jumping to the other side or falling. Unable to stay still, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, her blood on a low simmer. “Sorry. Don’t mind me. I get kind of riled up every time I sleep in a new bed.”

“Tell me more. Does that happen often?”

She shifted until her back pressed against the mattress. Carefully, she made sure her limbs didn’t touch his, even though his posture was a lot more relaxed. “That I get riled up?”

He scooted just a notch closer, and her heart set into an untrustworthy race. “No. Sleeping in a new bed.”

Why did his rich accent have to make it sound so dirty? “Why, do I detect a hint of sexism there?”

A hearty chuckled filled the air. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I’m a healthy woman with an okay sexual life. I mean, I don’t sleep around, but I have a little pink book I can go to if I need.” Yeah, a book that had a one-inch layer of dust on it. But she decided to keep that info to herself. Let him think she was a skankilicious goddess. Who cared?

The bed seemed to shrink.

“Interesting.”

She turned to her side and realized she was dangerously close to him. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she had to swallow a couple times to clear her dry throat. “How about you? Aren’t you supposed to be the hot Italian stallion?” she asked, even though she had never seen him with a woman. Sure, he probably dated at least a couple times, she conceded; after all, he had asked her to babysit a few weekends when he wasn’t out of town. But unless he was having an affair with his secretary, good ol’ Mrs. Goodwin, the man was super discreet.

He drummed his fingers on the mattress. “I’ve been busy.”

Who in the world was too busy to screw? She studied the outline of his hand, powerful even in the dimming light. “How long?”

“Long,” he said, his voice strained.

She clenched her legs together in a vain effort to suppress the pounding pulse from spreading everywhere. Too late. She touched her chest to ensure her heart was still in its place, the beat so strong it could have jerked away from the confines of her weak flesh.

Shoving the sheet to her side, she drew in the bubble of oxygen around her and let it out carefully. What was going on? Could she be dreaming if she hadn’t even fallen asleep? “I’m sure there are some women who wouldn’t mind being in your little black book. Make a list.”

He outlined the collar of her pajama top and, lord, her nipples perked up. “After I compile such list, what do you advise I do?”

“Well, you act on it.”

Don’t move. Whatever you do, just lie still.

A part of her—the dutiful daughter, sister, and aunt—urged her to assume an Egyptian mummy position or just play dead like he was some sort of grizzly bear. But her resolve diminished with every passing second. The remaining distance nearly dissipated between them.

“What if I want you to be on the top of my list?” He whispered into her ear, and the scent of his skin and the breath fanning her earlobe destroyed any common sense she may have left over. “Or better, on the top of you?”

She wanted him so much. She had fantasized about him, touched herself thinking of him, and even dated someone, wishing it were him. Out of all the things she had denied herself in life, could she do this? Deny this gorgeous specimen of man, this delicious sex on a tall, long stick?

Chapter Five

“T
ell me. How does one make it into your little pink book? Is there a selection process? An interview, maybe?” His fingers slid down her neck, causing her to bite the inside of her cheek. His hand was just like she had imagined when she had masturbated in her bathtub—strong, warm, masculine, but not rough.

She leaned in to his touch, her own fingertips tingling with need. The throb between her thighs galloped fast and furious, and if there ever had been a moment she would come from a slight caress, this was it. And Lorenzo Baldi was the cause. Damn him. “I favor hands-on auditions. Though, since you’re so rusty, I understand you might not be up for the challenge.”

“Oh, I’m up for it,” he said with a playful drawl. He moved his hand into her pajama top, and, God, he went straight to her heaving breasts, cupping her so luxuriously that a couple of her buttons popped instantly. He murmured something low in Italian, and this time there was no disguising her coarse moan.

She looked down and…was that an erection? Because if it was, she was in deep, deep trouble. And she loved every minute of it. “Well, then. Let’s see if you can wow me enough to make it into my little pink book.”

He moved above her, his body within a brush of a touch, with each arm stretched on either side of her. She could tell by the tilt of his head that he focused on her, and it was like a long-awaited caress, soaking her in and bringing her close. She didn’t move, entranced by the gorgeous man admiring her like she was Scarlett freaking Johansson.

Crazy was the way she arched toward him, leaning into his hands, her legs parting slightly. When she lifted her head to sneak her hands into his hair, he drew back.

Lorenzo started to unbutton what was left of her pajamas and sighed with frustration. The star-shaped buttons weren’t easy—one had to unhook them at just the right spot. With a swift movement, he pulled open her top, and the remaining little stars flew in the air. He clearly wasn’t the patient type.

She panted, the peak of her breasts hardening with the cool air blowing over them. Squirming on the bed, she longed for his touch, his kiss, and his hard cock plunging into her, removing her from any thoughts of reality.

“Gotta say, I never found pajamas sexy.” He ran a finger between the valley of her breasts, and the simple touch sent a thrill through her. “Until now.” He leaned over her, and his tongue trailed the path his finger set, and she moaned. Oh, yes.

“I wasn’t expecting—
hhhmm
—to conduct an interview.” She sighed when he slid the pants off her, exposing her prickled skin and blue hipsters.

He continued planting small kisses, branding her skin with his tongue, until his mouth found the hem of her underwear. She wriggled to help him get rid of them, but he took his time, pulling them with his teeth, grazing her skin. She dug her fingers into the sheets, twirling them and praying for mercy.

Sweet Jesus. She was completely naked, in his bed, and it was simply amazing. He blazed a trail of kisses on her thighs and parted her legs farther, his hands drawing her feet over his shoulders. He pushed her into the bed with a steady grip on her hips. She caught a glimpse of a cocky smile before he buried his head between her trembling thighs.

Oh. He was going to notice her—

“Well, well.” He tugged at the piercing in her clitoris, a white metal ball with red hearts on it. She groaned. “You’re a woman of many surprises, Alice Sommers.”

She threw her head back and clamped her lips together. Should she tell him she got it done a few months ago to impress Joshua? Sad thing was, the relationship was over by the time she’d been cleared to have sex.

“This is going to be fun.” He outlined her clitoris, and she moaned. Loudly. Fun? Her body was like the nonstop pulsing engine of a huge ship.

He stroked her with his tongue, and it was like she was turning into a liquefied version of herself, each time lighter and more ethereal. He played with her piercing, sucking on the metal, his teeth a feather over her swollen, damp flesh. A moan left his lips, and to know he was having pleasure just by giving her pleasure sent her over the edge.

Convulsions began to lift her from the mattress, small at first, then powerful, exhilarating. She moaned and curved around him, her toes curled and feet quivered over his shoulders. Her scream encouraged him to suck harder, stroke her, and swirl his tongue like savoring the last bit of chocolate fudge sundae.

When he thrust a finger inside her slickness, she could barely see anything but stars. The world, her world, was exploding, and it was loud, colorful…and perfect, as another moan fled her trembling lips.

Where did she go from here? Air returned to her lungs in small measures. Lorenzo unhooked her legs from his shoulders and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “Don’t move,” he demanded, like there was any way in hell she’d be able to lift a finger. She couldn’t even remember her middle name.

Alice followed the shadow of his body, his glorious, manly frame, retrieving a condom from the bedside drawer. He returned to her, removed his pants, and rolled the condom on his jutting cock.

Desire renewed inside of her, and the cool sweat on her skin shifted into hot sheen. He covered her body with his and flicked her clit one more time.

“Please, Mr. B—”

He tugged at her piercing, and a sharp pain zapped through her. “Lorenzo.”

Shit. Was her fantasy so obvious? She felt her cheeks reddening and willed the embarrassment away. “Lorenzo. Come inside me.”

He touched her piercing again, this time with a gentle flick, and plunged into her. It took a couple seconds for her walls to adjust to his girth. He dipped his head and delved his tongue into her mouth. To her surprise, his kiss was tender, his lips gentle, his tongue stroking her. She relaxed, loosened her inner muscles, and at last he moved in her, and her soaked walls clung to his length.

She wrapped her legs around his butt and enjoyed the opportunity to cup the nice ass she had drooled over so many times in the past. It was smooth, meaty, and just perfect. As he slid in and out of her, the intimate piercing intensified the pleasure building inside her.

He broke the kiss and grasped her breasts, his teeth grazing her nipple, and the brown tip grew hard as a diamond. A groan flew past his parted lips, his thick eyelashes sweeping over his eyes. He withdrew one last time and drove into her hard and strong, all the way to the hilt.

“Lorenzo.” A long moan announced her climax, and she closed her eyes, the emotions too profuse. She was slowly recovering when he moved inside her, and she realized he was still fully erect.

“I want you on all fours,” he said in a low voice and patted her hip as he drew out. She turned around and went to the middle of the bed, hands and knees on the mattress, her ass up in the air.

This time, without foreplay, he drove himself into her, and she gasped. Oh, it was wonderful. He filled her with every thrust, each time sliding out only to return with an almost violent, primeval need to slam deeper into her. Harder. He leaned over her and flicked her clit, his thumb playing with the metal until all her nerve endings seared.

He was fucking her, fair and square, and she loved it.

Growling like a caged animal that had finally found his freedom, he fingered her. When she began to quiver, he withdrew and impaled her one last time and groaned as they both fell to the mattress, his sweat-streaked body on hers.

L
orenzo rubbed his eyes and yawned.

Powerful rays of sunshine skipped through the curtains, and he propped himself on his elbows. A glance around reminded him where he was. At Viola’s villa.

He moved to sit on the bed, but his body touched another. His pulse raced, and he turned his head in the direction of the blend of magnolia and vanilla fragrance his brain had already begun to register. Alice.

She slept on her side, half covered by the silky sheet. Thank goodness her gorgeous breasts faced the other way, otherwise he’d be tempted to indulge and respond to his already throbbing erection.

No. The previous night, he hadn’t been able to resist her. Maybe resist was a strong word. He had preferred to give in to temptation; after all, he was only human. And when had he had sex last? An eternity ago.

Their bodies molded to each other with perfection. Of course, it was merely sexual. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, and someone like Alice would never fit the bill. She was gorgeous, and sexy as hell. But a relationship with a cynic like him would ruin her good nature and happy-go-lucky personality. Wasn’t that what marriage did to you? Wasn’t that what Kristin had done to him? Only this time, he’d have to explain things to Cara.

He scratched his head. No good would come out of this. How would he be able to look Alice in the eye and have her work for him like before, after the night they shared? Alice Sommers was trouble. Even if she didn’t follow him to New York, there would still be the time together before she quit. Damn it.
What do you mean, if she doesn’t go to New York City? She has to. You need to convince her.

“
Hhhmm…
” Alice hummed and moved into him, her behind rubbing against his thigh. Whatever reasons he could conjure not to have sex, his cock surely disagreed. Which was why he gathered his willpower, scooted from the bed, and sat up in record speed.

“Alice,” he called her, like he was summoning her for an urgent business meeting.

She shifted on the bed, and he was about to call her again, when she sat up. Seeing him standing in front of her, her eyebrows shot to her hairline and she tilted her head. He followed her gaze and realized he was not only naked but fully ready to take her again. Cursing himself, he grabbed a pillow and covered his betraying dick.

“We took things a bit too far last night. Maybe it was method acting.”
Method acting? What excuse for a human being are you?
He heard his inner voice and shook his head.

“No one can accuse you of being super tactful, can they?” Alice tossed her hair to one side, and the sheet covering her slid down her body.

Mio Dio.
In broad daylight, she was even more tempting. His eyes zoomed in on the tender flesh of her neck, where he had suckled and nipped. God, she had such sensitive skin—and he, he had jumped her bones like a horny farm boy on his first roll in the hay.

With a blink, he squared his shoulders and squeezed the pillow harder against his cock. “Sorry. We never got a chance to talk things through last night, and I don’t want to distract us from the real problem. In a few weeks, I’m planning on moving to New York. And I’d love for you to come with us. As our nanny.”

She pulled up the sheets. “I told you I can’t go. Is that why you screwed me last night? Do you think that would have changed my mind?”

“God, no,” he said in a rush. “I told you, I was dying to have sex with you. Trust me on this. I just don’t want it to change things between us. Look, by moving to New York I will cut down my travel time, thus my time away from Cara. I will be a better, more present father.”

She lifted her chin, eyes gleaming with an intensity he couldn’t understand. “Therefore you won’t need me.”

I’ll always need you.
He sighed. “Of course I will. I’ll still have long work hours, partners to entertain, meetings to attend. Besides, Cara loves you, and she needs to have someone, a woman, to talk to. She will be a teenager in a few years. She’ll need a female figure more than ever.” His daughter always raved about how Alice talked to her about everything. Well—a flash of Alice’s clit jewel flashed through his mind—he hoped not
everything.

She took a deep breath. “Have you ever considered remarrying?”

Never.
He would have to be a fool to want that kind of madness again. When he had married Kristin, he had no idea the bitter, selfish fraud she would end up being. He followed his emotions and paid a price for them. “That’s not an option.”

“Moving to New York makes you a better dad. I get that, and I applaud you. But going with you and leaving my family behind makes me—”

“Leaving them behind? What is this, the fifties? You have the right to live your own life. If it matters so much, why don’t they move, too?” he said, clearly not thinking straight.

“Well, sure. I will move my mom and bipolar sister who can’t deal with changing routines, and six-year-old Brenda all the way to New York with its astronomical cost of living, and all just to make life easier for
you
. Sounds perfectly reasonable.”

Damn it, she had a point there. He could write the check for her family to relocate, but the consequences would be disastrous. “Alice.”

“Darling Mr. B, Lorenzo, cockalicious man—before my father died, he asked me to take care of them. I can’t betray that promise. Don’t you see that moving away from them would do just that?”

“Shit,” he said, and as he shoved both hands in his hair, the pillow fell to the floor. Ah, screw it. They were talking, weren’t they? Maybe talk was the answer. Yes. Until now he had no idea she had made such a promise. If she trusted him, and he had enough time, they could talk things over, and he would make her see that New York was a good choice for her. “What am I going to do?”

“Not to worry. I’m sure you will find someone suitable in New York. And during this trip, I will continue to play my part of dutiful fiancée as our deal stands.”

Dutiful. The word set a rumble in his body, and his already hard cock sprung to his belly. Man. He needed a glacial ice shower, or… “Good. So things will go back to normal between us. Employee and nanny. Introvert jerk and happy-go-lucky free spirit,” he said, trying really hard to inject some humor in his voice. Did she notice his disappointment?

Maybe. She kept staring at him, quiet, her eyes remote like she was in a different place.

“Alice?”

Blinking, she zoomed in on his cock and licked her lips. “Unless you want to extend the method acting throughout the weekend?”

A senseless thrill zapped through him. “During our stay here? Are you sure you want to do this?” His answer burned the tip of his tongue. Yes. This was just sex, with no messy emotions as part of the mix. Sex was simple. Sex with Alice…was wonderful. Not exploring that possibility was painful, like visiting the Louvre in a thirty-minute window.