Seduced by Mr. Right (13 page)

Emilio spoke in a serious tone, but his gaze was filled with fire and desire. Sharleen ached for him, longed to be in
his bed. She wanted him so bad she couldn't think of anything but making love to him. The problem was, Sharleen didn't know what to do.
Should I take charge? Would he like that? Will I?

“You're not a one-in-a-million kind of girl, Sharleen. You're a once-in-a-lifetime kind of woman, and I'm ready to commit to you, mind, body and soul.”

His words were obviously something he'd given serious thought to. Love flowed through her body, but she couldn't bring herself to say those three magic words. Sharleen felt as if she were dreaming, and she pinched herself to prove she was awake.

“I have one small request...”

I
knew
this was too good to be true!

“I'm tired of seeing you all covered up. Promise me you'll wear dresses and shorts and skirts from now on, and colors other than gray and black.”

“I can't. I don't want anyone to see my scars.”

“Everyone has something about themselves that they don't like. Even yours truly.” Emilio pointed a finger at his temple. “Look, I'm cross-eyed!”

Sharleen burst out laughing and playfully swatted him on the shoulder. “Liar!”

“Courage isn't the absence of fear. It's the triumph over it,” he said quietly. “Sharleen, put the past behind you and pursue your destiny with every fiber of your being.”

Her mouth ajar, she stared at Emilio in stunned silence. Gathering herself, she gave him an incredulous look. “I can't believe it. You read Mrs. Fontaine's new book
.
But how? It was only released three days ago.”

“I had no choice. You threatened to stop cooking for me if I didn't read it, and I can't live without your seafood gumbo!” Emilio cupped her chin in his hands and brushed his nose against hers, causing her to giggle. “I want you to wear the red Dior dress tonight. It was made for a woman with your curves, and the moment I saw it in the store window I thought of you.”

You did? No way! That's so sweet!

“I want your outward appearance to reflect your inner beauty, so your Martha Stewart cardigans just aren't going to cut it anymore.”

“But what if people stare at me?”

“Of course they're going to stare. You're a vibrant, exotic beauty. They can't help themselves.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “And neither can I.”

Chapter 15

“O
h, my gosh, look at the crowd!” Sharleen leaned forward in her seat and pointed through the back window of the limousine. The vehicle crawled to a stop at the entrance of the Miami Convention Center, but Emilio instructed the chauffeur to drive around to the rear of the building. Hundreds of fans, decked out in World Series Racing caps, T-shirts and leather bomber jackets were chanting his name. Their excitement consumed the air. “What a turnout. This is amazing. I've never seen anything like this.”

“This is nothing compared to the Exotic Car Show in Barcelona. Ten thousand raucous fans show up every year, and they party in the streets until dawn!”

“Will you be traveling more now that you're Ferrari's spokesman?”

Emilio nodded. “I have to do TV and radio interviews and photo shoots, and I'll be required to attend industry events all over the world, especially in my native Italy.”

“I love traveling, and I've always dreamed of going overseas, but I couldn't imagine spending fourteen hours on an airplane. That sounds like torture.”

“Not if you're traveling in a private luxury jet. Trust me, it's the only way to travel.”

“Snob!” she joked, with a laugh.

“I'm taking you to Monte Carlo for our honeymoon,” he said. “You'll love it. I promise.”

“Our honeymoon?” Sharleen laughed, as if it were the most outrageous thing she'd ever heard. But inside she was jumping for joy. The thought of being Mrs. Emilio Morretti made her heart swoon. For years, she'd pretended that she didn't need anyone, that she was content being single, but deep down she'd always wanted to be in a serious, committed relationship with someone who loved her unconditionally. And now the only man she wanted in her life was Emilio Morretti.

“Love is a risk worth taking, and I'm ready to take things to the next level. Are you?”

His words surprised her, so she took a few minutes to gather her thoughts. “Emilio, don't you think you're moving too fast? We haven't known each other long, and you just accepted a job that's going to take you around the world for months at a time.”

Leaning over, he nuzzled his face against her cheek. “I want you to come with me.”

Convinced he was joking, she laughed. But when she felt his body tense, she realized he was serious. Sharleen took great pride in having a successful career, owning her own home and having money in the bank, and she wouldn't walk away from everything that was important to her. “I just can't up and leave my job. I have responsibilities and clients who depend on me.”

“You don't need to work.”

“But I
want
to,” Sharleen insisted, making a concerted effort not to raise her voice. Weeks ago, he'd joked about her quitting her job, but she'd assumed he was kidding and laughed it off.
Is that what Emilio wants? A docile woman at his beck and call who'll bend to his wishes, no matter how unreasonable they are?

Her gaze searched his face, tried to figure out what he was thinking, how he was feeling. His expression was blank, but she sensed his disappointment, his frustration. Not wanting to argue with him, she gently caressed his fingers with her own. “My parents raised me to be independent, and I'll never be happy being a kept woman,” she joked, hoping to lighten the mood. “I have hopes and dreams, just like you, and I plan to fulfill each and every one of them.”

“Let me take care of you and give you the life you've always dreamed of.”

“Emilio, I can take care of myself. I don't need you to baby me. I'm a grown woman.”

“I don't want to date long-distance. I want you to travel with me.”

“And I want to keep my career.”

A scowl twisted his lips, and there was a hint of anger in his voice. “I can't believe we're arguing about this. Most women would kill to be able to stop working.”

“Then I suggest you go find one of
those
women, because I refuse to be your puppet.”

Emilio flinched, as if he'd been slapped. “We'll talk about this later.”

What's there to talk about?
I'm not quitting my job, and if you can't respect my decision then we'll never have a future together.
Sharleen didn't realize the limousine had stopped until the back door opened, and sunshine flooded the car. She felt the wind on her face and took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air to calm her nerves.

Emilio stepped out of the limo, helped Sharleen to her feet and draped an arm around her waist. He looked handsome in his red World Series Racing uniform, like the superstar athlete he was, and radiated a potent blend of sensuality and masculinity.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sharleen spotted a silver-haired man smoking at the back door of the convention center. She could feel the stranger looking at them, could feel the heat and intensity of his gaze.
Is he staring at Emilio or my scars?

Sharleen thought back to that morning and smiled at the memory of their romantic breakfast. To please Emilio, she'd donned a flirty yellow dress and a pair of ankle-tie pumps. Butterflies had flooded her stomach as she'd entered the kitchen, but when he'd swept her up in his arms for a long, passionate kiss, her fears and insecurities had evaporated into thin air.

“Ready to wow the crowd?”

“I'm not the one with the rabid race-car fans,” she told him. “No one will even notice me.”

His gaze slid ever so slowly down her body and along her hips. “Oh, they'll notice all right.” Emilio gave her a smile, one that made her forget about their argument minutes earlier. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “You take my breath away.”

Sure I do,
she thought, wishing he'd quit teasing her, but loving it nonetheless.

“Your legs look sensational in this dress.” He licked his lips lasciviously, as if he wanted to devour her, and slid his hands down her back. “And so does your butt!”

“You are
such
a smooth talker. I bet your sexy one-liners drive your female fans wild.”

“Confidence is sexy, so when I give you a compliment, just say thank you.”

“Duly noted,” she said.

A blonde, thinner than a lamppost, threw her arms around Emilio and kissed him on both cheeks. “You're here! I can't believe it!” she gushed. “You look incredible.”

Emilio chuckled. “I've come a long way since I announced my retirement in 2012.”

“I'd say. I almost didn't recognize you!”

“Love is an amazing thing.” He looked at Sharleen and held her close to his side. He gazed at her with such warmth and affection her breath caught in her throat. “I haven't been this happy in years, and I owe it all to you.”

Joy flooded her heart. Sharleen knew she was wearing an awestruck expression on her face, but she didn't care how foolish she looked. For years, she'd been afraid of intimacy, of letting anyone get too close, but now she wanted a future with Emilio, and she refused to let her doubts and insecurities get in her way. She loved him too much.

Emilio introduced her to the blonde, and Sharleen was surprised to discover the attractive stranger was a senior executive at Ferrari. The woman was her age, if not younger, and obviously had a huge crush on Emilio.
What else is new?
she thought, indulging in a wry smile.
He's a sexy piece of eye candy and more charismatic than a rock star!

“Emilio, follow me.” The blonde opened the back door of the convention center and waved him inside. “I have everything set up and ready to go on stage three.”

The convention center was packed with car enthusiasts, members of the media and more scantily dressed women than a rap concert. Emilio stepped onto the raised booth, and the crowd exploded in cheers, whistles and fervent applause.

Sharleen was impressed by how kind he was to his fans. He kissed babies, posed for pictures and gave hugs. Women were coming at him from every side, but she could tell by his forced smile that he wasn't romantically interested in any of them.

Sharleen heard her cell phone ring inside her purse and knew from the ringtone that it was her boss. Panic drenched her skin. Did Mrs. Fontaine know that she was in Miami with Emilio? Was she calling to ream her out? Or worse, fire her? Putting the phone to her ear, she greeted her boss warmly, despite her thundering heartbeat. “Hello, Mrs. Fontaine. How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

Frowning, she glanced down at her iPhone. Mrs. Fontaine sounded upset, as if she'd been crying, and her voice was softer than a whisper. “Yes, of course. Is everything okay?”

“I've made a decision about the VP position, and I would like to meet with you and Brad on Friday afternoon. I know you have a consultation, but I want everything in place before I leave for my book tour that evening.”

“I understand, Mrs. Fontaine. Don't worry. I'll be there.”

“Great. I look forward to seeing you—”

Sharleen heard muffled sounds and a gruff, male voice in the background, but it was Mrs. Fontaine's hostile tone that surprised her. “Jules, get the hell out or I'll call the cops!”

Click.
The phone went dead. It seemed as if the rumors flying around the office were true. Mrs. Fontaine was having marital problems with her husband, Jules. Had she kicked him out of the house and changed the locks? Were they beginning divorce proceedings?

Casting her thoughts aside, she dropped her cell phone back inside her purse and turned to the stage. To her surprise, Emilio was staring at her. Their eyes met, and the corners of his mouth twisted into a bad-boy grin.

A tremor tore through her body, left her feeling delirious with need, and she shot him a playful wink. She'd never felt more comfortable in her skin, and Emilio was the reason why. It suddenly dawned on her what made him special. He appreciated her mind and praised her inner strength, not just her curves. He asked good questions, smart ones that made her search deep within, and she enjoyed their honest, thought-provoking discussions about life.

“You must be Sharleen,” said a male voice, with a hint of an East Coast accent. Turning around, she regarded the attractive couple standing behind her, holding hands. Sharleen instantly recognized Nicco Morretti from the pictures at Emilio's estate, but the photographs didn't do the restaurateur justice. He had eyes that twinkled with mischief, a head full of curly hair and a buff body. His wife, Jariah, was a tall, full-figured beauty with long, thick braids. Her orange off-the-shoulder sundress flattered her dark skin tone, and the tight fit showed off her baby bump.

“I'm Nicco, and this gorgeous woman is my wife, Jariah.” Beaming with pride, he rested a hand on her stomach. “And this little one is Nicco Morretti Jr.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Welcome to the family,” Nicco said, with a smile.

Sharleen laughed. It was impossible not to like Nicco—he was charming and outgoing, and she was touched by how he treated his wife. While they waited for Emilio, they chatted about the luxury cars on display and the record-breaking temperatures.

“I've been looking forward to meeting you for weeks, and now that I have, I understand why my cousin adores you,” Nicco said. “So, when's the wedding?”

Sharleen felt her mouth dry and her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Nicco, leave her alone.” Jariah wore a sympathetic smile. “You'll have to forgive my husband. We just came from Lamaze class, and the birthing videos always make him emotional.”

“What can I say?” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “Love is a beautiful thing!”

The women laughed.

“Marriage definitely agrees with you, Nicco,” Emilio said as he reached them. “I've never seen you look so good!”

Nicco hugged Emilio and introduced him to Jariah. There were more hugs and kisses and plenty of laughs as the couples chatted.

“I hope you're not over here giving my girlfriend a hard time.” Emilio glared at his cousin, but a broad grin was on his mouth. “It took me weeks to win her over, and I won't have you undoing all of my hard work.”

Your girlfriend? God, I
love
the sound of that!

Sharleen thought her heart would burst with love when Emilio draped an arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips. He smiled knowingly at her, as if he had a trick up his sleeve, and affectionately stroked her neck and shoulders. His touch would never get old, would never fail to excite her, even if they were married for sixty years.

“Let's go eat.” Emilio said. “Posing for pictures and signing autographs might look easy, but it's hard work!”

* * *

Three hours later, the couples were sitting outside on the wraparound deck at Nicco and Jariah's mansion, sipping cocktails and shooting the breeze. Too full to move, Sharleen sat back comfortably in her seat and crossed her legs. Dinner had been a five-course feast, and everything on the table—from the poached oysters to the Italian lamb—had been delicious.

“The big day is almost here,” Emilio said. “Are you ready for the baby's arrival?”

Nicco shook his head. “Not yet. I still need a few more weeks to finish the nursery.”

“And if the baby comes early?”

“Then I'm screwed!”

The men chuckled, and the jovial expression on Emilio's face made Sharleen laugh, too. His skin had browned in the sun, making him look even more attractive. It was obvious he was having a great time with his cousin, and Sharleen enjoyed seeing this playful, fun-loving side of him. He entertained them with stories from his childhood, told them about the first—and only—time he'd changed his nephew's diaper and spoke openly about how Lucca had changed his life.

“Having children will enrich your lives in ways you couldn't imagine.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Nicco said. “That's why I'd like to have five or six kids.”