Seduced by Mr. Right(14)
“Y-y-you’re on a date?” Ginger stammered, her voice an earsplitting squeak. A horrified expression covered her face. “I thought you were alone.”
“See you around. Take care.”
Ginger slid in front of him, thwarting his escape. “If you’re free later, maybe you can meet up with me and Francesca at Magic City. We’re going club hopping with some out-of-town friends, and we’re planning to party the night away.”
Emilio glared at her. “My sister doesn’t go to strip clubs.”
“Okay,” she shot back, with a knowing smirk. “If you say so!”
Disgusted, he strode out of the lounge with Sharleen at his side. Ginger was a bad influence on his twenty-five-year-old sister, and as he marched past the open kitchen, he made a mental note to talk to Francesca about finding another roommate. Or better yet, moving back into his estate. The thought heartened him, lifted his spirits. He missed seeing his sister every day and liked the idea of her living under his roof again. Francesca was still struggling to cope with the loss of Lucca, but partying with a wild crowd wasn’t the answer.
Do you blame her? Her only child died, his conscience shot back. And you’re a fine one to talk. Had your daily dose of scotch today?
“I don’t see anyone upstairs. I hope we don’t get into trouble for seating ourselves.”
Emilio surfaced from his thoughts. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble with management?”
“I’m positive. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Sharleen burst out laughing, and his chest puffed up with pride. He felt fired up, happier than a kid at SeaWorld.
“Everyone’s staring at us,” she whispered, a note of anxiety in her voice. “But I guess you’re used to it, being a world-famous race-car driver and all.”
“They’re not staring at me.” Emilio fixed his gaze on hers and spoke from the heart. “You’re a light, Sharleen, and they’re floored by your inner and outer beauty. You’re the prettiest woman in the room, and everyone knows it.”
Her eyes revealed nothing, but her lips held a shy smile. As they exited the main floor lounge, Emilio caught the envious glares of the other male patrons and tightened his hold around her waist. “Leave everything to me. I know what I’m doing.”
Chapter 5
“Tell me more about your background.”
To buy herself some time, Sharleen picked up her glass and tasted her diet cola. The cold, sweet liquid tickled her taste buds and coursed down her throat in a gush. It didn’t help cool her body down. Her temperature continued to climb, and perspiration drenched her skin. Emilio Morretti—the race-car driver with the quiet, soft-spoken nature—was to blame for her symptoms. Had to be. Why else was her heart racing and her hormones raging out of control? It was hard to concentrate with Emilio around, impossible to think clearly. Every time their eyes met, Sharleen lost her train of thought. Like right now. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember his question.
“Don’t be shy.” Emilio sat across from her at the small wooden table, cutting up his T-bone steak, his gaze never leaving her face. “You’re a fascinating young woman, and I’m enjoying your company very much.”
Me? Fascinating? Really? But I’m a nobody, just a regular girl. “Thanks, but I’m older than you think.” Sharleen paused, debated whether to divulge the truth. Over the past hour, Emilio had asked her tons of personal questions but had revealed little about himself. To gain his trust, she spoke openly. “I’m twenty-seven, but to be honest, I feel decades older. Everyone says I have an old soul, and it’s true. I love crocheting, vintage clothes and The Beatles.”
“We’re kindred souls, then.”
“We are?” she asked. “You crochet, too?”
Emilio chuckled. “No, but I have every song The Beatles ever recorded and a vinyl record player as well.”
“No way! Me too!”
“You should come over sometime and check out my music library. It’s quite impressive.”
His tone was free of arrogance, but Sharleen sensed his pride, felt it radiating off him in waves. “I’d be honored,” she said, touched by the offer. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Drop by my estate whenever your schedule permits.”
For some reason, the thought of being alone with Emilio at his mansion excited her. Slow your roll, girl. He’s a client, not your soul mate. Sharleen didn’t have a “type,” never had, and often teased her girlfriends who had a boyfriend checklist. But as the night wore on, she realized Emilio was everything she wanted in a man, and more. He was one of a kind, in a class all by himself. Cultured, sophisticated and chivalrous, he made her feel emotions she’d never experienced before, and everything about him—his eyes, his boyish smile, his foreign accent—was a turn-on.