For Angelo(44)
“I know where this is going, Lane.”
Her eyes shone. “Then it means you lo—”
“And I’m telling you right now, it’s not possible.”
Oh. But refusing to be disappointed, she insisted, “But what if—”
“Lane.”
“I just think we should give it a chance and see if we lo—”
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to show you my bank account.”
“What?” She didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted by his threat.
“And I’m warning you, it has a lot of zeroes in it.”
Amusement won, and a giggle escaped.
“So if I were you, I’d back off. If you force my hand, I’ll have no choice but to let you know just how many homes I own—”
She started to laugh.
“Or would you rather I start with my yachts—”
“I surrender,” she interrupted him laughingly. “You win.”
“Good girl. Now come here—” He hauled her to him with a complete lack of grace, making her laugh again. His arms closed around her, and then she felt his lips brush the top of her head.
“I’m sorry for breaking my promise, tesoro.”
Oh.
“Ask me anything in return and I will give it to you as long as it’s within my power. Do you want your own island? A yacht? A twenty-carat—”
“Shut up,” she mumbled even though she couldn’t help laughing at the outrageous things he was offering.
She felt him smile over her head. “Anything within my power,” he murmured. “Remember that.”
Anything, she thought, and it came to her then. She whispered slowly, “I do have something I want.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to attend one of your parties.”
Chapter Twelve
Dylan Charbonneau, lead vocalist for Minuit Rouge, strode down the expansive hallways with the confidence of one who was long familiar with the ins and outs of Angelo Valencia’s home. And so he was, although the paparazzi had yet to discover it.
Once in a while, he would be forced to stop, with the women of Angelo’s staff unable to stop themselves from asking to have their photos taken with him. The rockstar obliged every request, and the maids sighed dreamily when he walked away. How gorgeous and sexy he was!
If only he wasn’t engaged, they thought sadly.
Upon reaching the entrance to the patio, the rockstar stopped dead in his tracks, his hand stilling on the steel handle of the glass doors separating the main house from the garden.
Was he truly seeing this?
Angelo Valencia III, a man infamous for his rigid control and conservative manners, backing away with clumsy haste and being stalked by…a girl half his size?
The girl was dark-haired and beautiful, and with the kind of curves he knew Angelo was fond of. Her taste in clothes was a bit questionable, though, and Dylan was surprised the billionaire had made no attempt to have her wear something else.
“Just let me go!”
His eyebrows shot up at the girl’s words. She had momentarily stopped her pursuit of his friend and was glaring up at Angelo, hands planted on her hips.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Angelo snapped. “The answer is no!”
Interesting, Dylan thought. This was the first time he heard of Angelo refusing to let a woman go. Normally, most women would cry and beg to keep Angelo as their lover.
“But you promised—”
“Because I thought you were going to use your brains,” Angelo snapped.
Now, Dylan was stunned. Angelo worshipped the rules of propriety, and yet here he was, practically telling the girl she was an idiot.
“It’s just a party,” the girl argued.
“It’s not any kind of party, and you know it.” Angelo’s voice became final. “You will not change my mind on this. You will not go to the party, and that’s it.”
Dylan blinked. So this heated argument…was over tonight’s party?
Crazy, the rockstar thought.
“Just let me try, please.”
“You fainted upon encountering three strangers in my hallway,” Angelo pointed out curtly. “My parties’ guest lists can have as many as three hundred names—”
The dark-haired girl gave the billionaire a mulish look.
Angelo rolled his eyes. “That won’t work on me.”
She lifted her chin. “If you don’t let me, I’m going to kiss you, and I don’t care if you say we can’t do it just because I didn’t get to call home. I’m going to kiss you and—”
Dylan blinked again. Well, that threat was—
He saw Angelo back a step away from the girl.
Effective, he thought incredulously. The threat actually worked!