Seduced by the Heir
Seduced by the Heir
Pamela Yaye
First Love. Forever Love … ?
International business mogul Rafael Morretti has his pick of the world's most desirable women. But the all-work, no-play bachelor can't forget the one who got away. Fifteen years ago, Paris St. Clair was his college sweetheart. Now a destination wedding in Venice has reunited him with the vivacious beauty. And he will stop at nothing to win her back.
Busy building her financial career, Paris is still haunted by the one who got away. Maybe meeting Rafael again in The Floating City is a sign that their love is meant to be. As passions collide and they give in to desire at a private villa, will a sudden web of blackmail destroy Rafael's good name and sabotage their precious second chance?
"You taste even better than I remember," he said in a deep, guttural tone of voice.
Lips locked, their bodies pressed flat against each other, they stumbled inside the suite and collapsed against the door. His lips were made for kissing, for licking and sucking, and Paris couldn't get enough of his mouth. His hands were in her hair, then caressing her neck and shoulders.
Inhaling his scent, Paris relished the feel of his touch, the thrill of finally being alone with him, and the pleasure of his kiss. His lips felt oh-so-good and tasted even better.
The kiss took on a life of its own, snowballed into something fierce. Grew stronger, more intense with each flick of his tongue. Her desire for Rafael was insatiable, more powerful than any drug. They teased and caressed each other until Paris didn't know right from left. It was the hottest foreplay she'd ever had, and they were still dressed.
Yeah, but not for long.
Dear Reader,
Rafael Morretti, the firstborn of Arturo and Vivica Morretti, embodies all the traits of an oldest child. He's a born leader with a high IQ who'd much rather work than party. But when he travels to Venice, Italy, for his best friend's wedding and comes face-to-face with his old college sweetheart, Paris St. Clair, he steps up his game and pours on the charm! Being with Paris is so easy, so natural, and their chemistry is stronger than ever. The couple spend a magical weekend together exploring tourist hot spots, dining in posh restaurants and slow dancing under the stars. And after an explosive night of lovemaking on New Year's Eve, Rafael feels himself falling fast … .
I LOVE the Morretti family and hope to write about this dynamic, close-knit clan for many more years to come. If you keep reading, I promise to keep writing! :)
I'm anxiously waiting to "hear" what you think of Rafael and Paris's sizzling love story, so drop me a line at [email protected], find me on Facebook or visit my website, www.pamelayaye.com.
Thanks for the support. Happy reading, and be blessed.
With love,
Pamela Yaye
Chapter 1
"I've wanted to meet you for years, and it looks like today is my lucky day!"
Like a genie in a bottle, a voluptuous woman in a gold strapless dress appeared at Rafael Morretti's side, flashing a seductive smile. He had been searching the tent for his friend Stefano Via, but couldn't find the gregarious stockbroker anywhere. Stefano and his bride-to-be, Cassandra Knight, had rented the lavish countryside villa, near Venice, Italy, for their week-long wedding celebration. And the three-hundred-plus guests inside the satin-draped tent were partying like there was no tomorrow. Conversation was loud and boisterous, the live band was whipping the fashionably dressed crowd into a frenzy, and the mood was energetic and festive.
"I spotted you the moment you arrived." A girlish giggle fell from between her thin, peach lips. "Being over six feet tall, and drop-dead gorgeous makes you kinda hard to miss."
Raising an eyebrow, Rafael regarded his female admirer closely. The blue-eyed temptress didn't seem to care about sending the wrong impression or offending the other guests. In fact, she was determined to violate his personal space, and to rub her body against his. Damn, he thought, searching the tent for an escape route. Now I know how a waitress feels during happy hour!
"I'm a huge fan of your work, and I have every magazine you've ever been featured in."
Rafael raised his glass to his mouth and tasted his Dom Perignon. The blonde was staring at him with adoration, as if he was a rock star and she was his number one fan. But Rafael wasn't moved by her sultry tone or her provocative pout. Her blatant come-on was a turnoff. Call him old-fashioned, but he didn't like the aggressive, take-charge types. He preferred classy, refined women who carried themselves with grace and dignity. A huge fan of my work? he thought, puzzled by her words. Can't say I've ever heard that line before. I hope she doesn't think I'm Emilio.
His younger brothers, Demetri and Nicco, teased him mercilessly about his resemblance to their famous, cousin-race-car driving sensation Emilio Morretti. And although Rafael didn't see the physical similarities, he suspected that's who the giggly blonde thought he was. "I'm sorry, miss, but I think you have me confused with someone else." He peeled her fingers off his forearm and forced a smile. "I don't know you, and I'm certain you don't know me."
She batted her fake eyelashes. "I know exactly who you are and I can prove it."
"Okay," he said, deciding to call her bluff. "Who am I?"
"You're Rafael Morretti, heir to the Morretti Incorporated empire, and according to Business Weekly, one of the most brilliant minds of the twenty-first century." Moving closer, until they were touching, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "You turned thirty-six back in August, but in my opinion you don't look a day over twenty-five."
A grin found its way onto his lips. Rafael was impressed. Not because the woman had memorized his personal bio, but because she'd managed to recite his profile with a sincere expression. As if she truly was his biggest fan.
"You were born in Italy, but presently reside in Washington D.C. You're single, you've never been married and you have no kids. Are you satisfied? Or should I go on?"
"No, I think you've said enough."
"Silly me. I forgot to introduce myself." She stuck out her chest and twirled a lock of hair around her index finger. "I'm Stefano's cousin, Julietta Via. You probably won't believe this, but I'm very well known in Italy."
Oh, I believe it! I bet you've tried to seduce every rich man in the country! As he stood there, listening to Stefano's cousin brag about her burgeoning modeling career, Rafael couldn't help wondering what he was doing wrong. Women like Julietta were always throwing themselves at him, sliding him their phone numbers and boldly propositioning him. These were the exact reasons he preferred to stay home on the weekends. He wasn't interested in finding Ms. Right, or making a love connection in Venice, either. He'd been disappointed by the opposite sex one too many times, and after his ex-girlfriend's bitter betrayal he'd decided to take a break from dating altogether. Rafael had no intention of getting played by another conniving woman desperate for fame and fortune. So he took a giant step away from the aggressive blonde and scanned the grounds for someone else to talk to.
"This is my favorite song," Julietta said, swaying to the sensuous beat of the music. "Let's get out there, and show everyone how to really get down."
Rafael shook his head. "I don't dance."
"Then let's take this intimate party for two inside the villa." She linked an arm through his and gestured to the French doors. "Follow me. I want to show you something."
"Are you always this forward?"
"I believe in taking life by the horns."
And I believe in staying far, far away from provocative women like you! Rafael spotted his brothers, slow dancing with their wives-to-be out on the floor, and felt a twinge of envy. These days, Demetri and Nicco were busy planning romantic dates and jetting off to the City of Lights, rather than hanging out with him. And for the first time ever Rafael was unfulfilled at work, and worried about his future. Am I destined to spend the rest of my life alone? he wondered, releasing a deep sigh. Will I ever meet a woman who loves me for me, and not because of my net worth? Ever since his younger brothers had gotten engaged, their mother, Vivica, had been on his case to settle down. And when she wasn't badgering him about finding a bride, she was trying to set him up on blind dates.
But Rafael had bigger problems than keeping his mother out of his personal life. Someone was out to ruin his family, and he had to find out who it was before it was too late. Terrifying things had happened over the summer, and even though his dad put up a brave front, Rafael could tell he was deeply concerned about Nicco's restaurant being vandalized, the shooting at the Beach Bentley Hotel and the recent arson attack. For that reason Rafael didn't bother to tell his father about the blackmail letters he'd received last Friday. He'd immediately turned the letters over to the police, though he knew there was little the cops could do. It was ultimately up to him and his security team to unearth the truth, and they would, no matter what.
Pamela Yaye
First Love. Forever Love … ?
International business mogul Rafael Morretti has his pick of the world's most desirable women. But the all-work, no-play bachelor can't forget the one who got away. Fifteen years ago, Paris St. Clair was his college sweetheart. Now a destination wedding in Venice has reunited him with the vivacious beauty. And he will stop at nothing to win her back.
Busy building her financial career, Paris is still haunted by the one who got away. Maybe meeting Rafael again in The Floating City is a sign that their love is meant to be. As passions collide and they give in to desire at a private villa, will a sudden web of blackmail destroy Rafael's good name and sabotage their precious second chance?
"You taste even better than I remember," he said in a deep, guttural tone of voice.
Lips locked, their bodies pressed flat against each other, they stumbled inside the suite and collapsed against the door. His lips were made for kissing, for licking and sucking, and Paris couldn't get enough of his mouth. His hands were in her hair, then caressing her neck and shoulders.
Inhaling his scent, Paris relished the feel of his touch, the thrill of finally being alone with him, and the pleasure of his kiss. His lips felt oh-so-good and tasted even better.
The kiss took on a life of its own, snowballed into something fierce. Grew stronger, more intense with each flick of his tongue. Her desire for Rafael was insatiable, more powerful than any drug. They teased and caressed each other until Paris didn't know right from left. It was the hottest foreplay she'd ever had, and they were still dressed.
Yeah, but not for long.
Dear Reader,
Rafael Morretti, the firstborn of Arturo and Vivica Morretti, embodies all the traits of an oldest child. He's a born leader with a high IQ who'd much rather work than party. But when he travels to Venice, Italy, for his best friend's wedding and comes face-to-face with his old college sweetheart, Paris St. Clair, he steps up his game and pours on the charm! Being with Paris is so easy, so natural, and their chemistry is stronger than ever. The couple spend a magical weekend together exploring tourist hot spots, dining in posh restaurants and slow dancing under the stars. And after an explosive night of lovemaking on New Year's Eve, Rafael feels himself falling fast … .
I LOVE the Morretti family and hope to write about this dynamic, close-knit clan for many more years to come. If you keep reading, I promise to keep writing! :)
I'm anxiously waiting to "hear" what you think of Rafael and Paris's sizzling love story, so drop me a line at [email protected], find me on Facebook or visit my website, www.pamelayaye.com.
Thanks for the support. Happy reading, and be blessed.
With love,
Pamela Yaye
Chapter 1
"I've wanted to meet you for years, and it looks like today is my lucky day!"
Like a genie in a bottle, a voluptuous woman in a gold strapless dress appeared at Rafael Morretti's side, flashing a seductive smile. He had been searching the tent for his friend Stefano Via, but couldn't find the gregarious stockbroker anywhere. Stefano and his bride-to-be, Cassandra Knight, had rented the lavish countryside villa, near Venice, Italy, for their week-long wedding celebration. And the three-hundred-plus guests inside the satin-draped tent were partying like there was no tomorrow. Conversation was loud and boisterous, the live band was whipping the fashionably dressed crowd into a frenzy, and the mood was energetic and festive.
"I spotted you the moment you arrived." A girlish giggle fell from between her thin, peach lips. "Being over six feet tall, and drop-dead gorgeous makes you kinda hard to miss."
Raising an eyebrow, Rafael regarded his female admirer closely. The blue-eyed temptress didn't seem to care about sending the wrong impression or offending the other guests. In fact, she was determined to violate his personal space, and to rub her body against his. Damn, he thought, searching the tent for an escape route. Now I know how a waitress feels during happy hour!
"I'm a huge fan of your work, and I have every magazine you've ever been featured in."
Rafael raised his glass to his mouth and tasted his Dom Perignon. The blonde was staring at him with adoration, as if he was a rock star and she was his number one fan. But Rafael wasn't moved by her sultry tone or her provocative pout. Her blatant come-on was a turnoff. Call him old-fashioned, but he didn't like the aggressive, take-charge types. He preferred classy, refined women who carried themselves with grace and dignity. A huge fan of my work? he thought, puzzled by her words. Can't say I've ever heard that line before. I hope she doesn't think I'm Emilio.
His younger brothers, Demetri and Nicco, teased him mercilessly about his resemblance to their famous, cousin-race-car driving sensation Emilio Morretti. And although Rafael didn't see the physical similarities, he suspected that's who the giggly blonde thought he was. "I'm sorry, miss, but I think you have me confused with someone else." He peeled her fingers off his forearm and forced a smile. "I don't know you, and I'm certain you don't know me."
She batted her fake eyelashes. "I know exactly who you are and I can prove it."
"Okay," he said, deciding to call her bluff. "Who am I?"
"You're Rafael Morretti, heir to the Morretti Incorporated empire, and according to Business Weekly, one of the most brilliant minds of the twenty-first century." Moving closer, until they were touching, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "You turned thirty-six back in August, but in my opinion you don't look a day over twenty-five."
A grin found its way onto his lips. Rafael was impressed. Not because the woman had memorized his personal bio, but because she'd managed to recite his profile with a sincere expression. As if she truly was his biggest fan.
"You were born in Italy, but presently reside in Washington D.C. You're single, you've never been married and you have no kids. Are you satisfied? Or should I go on?"
"No, I think you've said enough."
"Silly me. I forgot to introduce myself." She stuck out her chest and twirled a lock of hair around her index finger. "I'm Stefano's cousin, Julietta Via. You probably won't believe this, but I'm very well known in Italy."
Oh, I believe it! I bet you've tried to seduce every rich man in the country! As he stood there, listening to Stefano's cousin brag about her burgeoning modeling career, Rafael couldn't help wondering what he was doing wrong. Women like Julietta were always throwing themselves at him, sliding him their phone numbers and boldly propositioning him. These were the exact reasons he preferred to stay home on the weekends. He wasn't interested in finding Ms. Right, or making a love connection in Venice, either. He'd been disappointed by the opposite sex one too many times, and after his ex-girlfriend's bitter betrayal he'd decided to take a break from dating altogether. Rafael had no intention of getting played by another conniving woman desperate for fame and fortune. So he took a giant step away from the aggressive blonde and scanned the grounds for someone else to talk to.
"This is my favorite song," Julietta said, swaying to the sensuous beat of the music. "Let's get out there, and show everyone how to really get down."
Rafael shook his head. "I don't dance."
"Then let's take this intimate party for two inside the villa." She linked an arm through his and gestured to the French doors. "Follow me. I want to show you something."
"Are you always this forward?"
"I believe in taking life by the horns."
And I believe in staying far, far away from provocative women like you! Rafael spotted his brothers, slow dancing with their wives-to-be out on the floor, and felt a twinge of envy. These days, Demetri and Nicco were busy planning romantic dates and jetting off to the City of Lights, rather than hanging out with him. And for the first time ever Rafael was unfulfilled at work, and worried about his future. Am I destined to spend the rest of my life alone? he wondered, releasing a deep sigh. Will I ever meet a woman who loves me for me, and not because of my net worth? Ever since his younger brothers had gotten engaged, their mother, Vivica, had been on his case to settle down. And when she wasn't badgering him about finding a bride, she was trying to set him up on blind dates.
But Rafael had bigger problems than keeping his mother out of his personal life. Someone was out to ruin his family, and he had to find out who it was before it was too late. Terrifying things had happened over the summer, and even though his dad put up a brave front, Rafael could tell he was deeply concerned about Nicco's restaurant being vandalized, the shooting at the Beach Bentley Hotel and the recent arson attack. For that reason Rafael didn't bother to tell his father about the blackmail letters he'd received last Friday. He'd immediately turned the letters over to the police, though he knew there was little the cops could do. It was ultimately up to him and his security team to unearth the truth, and they would, no matter what.