Seduced by Mr. Right(50)
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.