Seduced by the Heir(14)

"It takes me way back-"

"All the way back to the U of W's winter ball our freshman year?" Paris asked, with a coy smile.

"I had an amazing time that night."

"What was your favorite part?"

Rafael lowered his mouth to her ear. "Making love to you in the backseat of the limo."

"I'm surprised you remember."

"How could I forget? You rocked my world that night."

His words gave her a rush. The air was thick, saturated with the scent  of his desire and charged with electricity. Their connection was strong,  still as powerful as ever, and all Paris could think about was kissing  him. The strength of his gaze and the soulful, sensuous music playing in  the background only heightened her need.

"May I cut in?"

Paris turned, saw Julietta standing behind her and stared her down.

"Now's not a good time." Rafael had a cold, grim look on his face, but he spoke in a soft tone.

"But you promised me a dance, and I've been waiting for over an hour."

"Then go bust a move with someone else."

"You guys are hilarious," Paris quipped. "You bicker like an old married couple!"

The blonde wore a triumphant smile. "See, Rafael, I told you! I'm not the only one who thinks we're a great match."

"I need a drink," Paris said, turning to walk away.

Rafael grabbed her arm and pulled her to his side. "Hold on, I'm coming with you."

"You are?"

"Of course. You're one hell of a dancer, and I worked up quite a sweat  trying to keep up with you." He led her across the room and sighed in  relief when they reached the champagne bar. "Do me a favor. The next  time you see Julietta coming, tell me to run!"

Paris giggled. Couldn't help it. Men who could make her laugh were hard  to come by, but Rafael had been making her giggle all night.                       
       
           



       

"What would you like to drink?"

"Champagne, please."

Rafael spoke to the bartender in Italian, and Paris fanned a hand in  front of her face. It's bad enough he's tall, dark and dreamy. Does he  have to sound sexy, too?

"When are you heading back to the States?"

"Bright and early tomorrow morning." Paris took the goblet he offered  her and tasted her drink. It helped take the edge off her nerves. "I  have a meeting in the afternoon that I can't afford to miss. I do wish I  could stay in Venice a few more days, though. But there are clients to  meet, deals to close and money to be made."

"Amen to that!"

They laughed and clinked glasses.

"I need to use the powder room, so if I don't see you again tonight have  a safe trip back to the States. Oh, and Happy New Year!"

"Well, can I have your number? We've had such a great time reconnecting and I'd like us to keep in touch."

Paris loved the idea of seeing Rafael again, but tempered her  excitement. Their attraction was stronger than ever, and she feared what  would happen if they renewed their relationship. "Really? But we're  both insanely busy."

"It's a ninety-minute flight from Washington to Atlanta, and my family  is fortunate enough to have our own plane," he said, with a hint of  pride in his voice. "We can see each other as often as you'd like, and  it won't cost you a dime."

"Rafael, I'm not looking for anything serious."

"Me, neither. A few more dinner dates and slow dances should suffice."

His grin was dangerous, and so were his dark, piercing eyes.

"Next time I'm in Washington I'll look you up. How's that?"

His smile fell away. "It sounds like you're giving me the brush-off."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're scared of history repeating itself."

Surprised and confused, she frowned and folded her arms. What's that  supposed to mean? Is Rafael trying to imply that I was sprung back in  the day? That I was as desperate as Julietta?

The music faded and a hush fell over the room.

"I'd like to call the Morretti brothers up to the podium," the DJ said.

"Hang tight, okay?" Rafael kissed her cheek, and affectionately squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be back in a couple minutes."

The air was filled with excitement, and the whistles and applause were deafening.

"Cassandra, you're the best thing to ever happen to Stefano, and if he  ever steps out of line, just let me know and I'll straighten him out,"  Nicco said, with a rueful smile.

Demetri stole the microphone and pointed a finger at his chest. "Call me  first! He's been scared of me since the tenth grade, and I still  outweigh him by forty pounds!"

Guests hooted and hollered.

"In a few minutes we'll be going outside to watch a spectacular  fireworks display, but before we do I'd like to make one last toast to  the bride and groom." Rafael raised his silver goblet in the air and  spoke in a loud, clear voice. "I hope your marriage is filled with  unspeakable joy and happiness, and may those of us who haven't found our  soul mates be fortunate enough to find a love as strong as yours...."

Paris felt the tears coming and dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips.  Rafael spoke with such passion and conviction the crowd gave him a  standing ovation.

And no one cheered louder or longer than she did.





Chapter 8

"Where are you rushing off to, pretty lady? I have big plans for you tonight."

Paris groaned and dropped her gaze to the sleek marble floor. Glancing  over her shoulder confirmed it was the groom's uncle strutting toward  her with lust in his eyes. Paris was standing in the lobby of the Hotel  Excelsior, had been for several minutes while wondering why the elevator  was taking forever to reach the main floor. And why Stefano's uncle was  pestering her.

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."

"Bye, Luigi. See you around."

He growled and licked his dry, thin lips.

Yuck. Paris didn't get it. How could someone as suave and well-bred as  Stefano have such a sleazy uncle? Why couldn't he be more like Rafael  and less of a horndog? A picture of Raphael popped into her mind, but  she pushed the image aside and faced her tormentor. Stefano's uncle  smelled faintly of vodka and cheap cologne. He was invading her personal  space, standing too close for her liking, and she hated the way he was  ogling her cleavage.

"You're working the hell out of that dress." Grunting, he patted his  protruding belly with gusto. "You look so tasty tonight I could sop you  up with a biscuit!"                       
       
           



       

Ignoring him, Paris frantically jabbed the up button and tapped her foot  impatiently. Cheers and laughter rang out behind her. The lobby was  loud, filled with well-dressed guests and spirited conversation. Paris  was enjoying her stay at the hotel with the spectacular view of the  Grand Canal. She had already decided the next time she was in Venice she  would definitely be paying Hotel Excelsior another visit.

Who knows? Maybe Rafael will join me.

At the thought, her heart skipped a beat. They'd had fun sightseeing  yesterday and had flirted with each other throughout the wedding  reception, but that didn't mean Paris wanted to rekindle their romance.  She didn't.

Liar, jeered her conscience. You want him bad, and you know it!

"The bridal party and some of the out-of-town guests are going to The  Zone nightclub, and I want you to be the lucky lady on my arm," Luigi  said, his tone full of bravado. "We have some unfinished business to  discuss, and some dirty dancing to do."

Paris wanted to smack the lewd grin off his face, but exercised  restraint. She was anxious to return to her suite, and envisioned  herself stretched out in the Jacuzzi tub, eating fruit and listening to  cool jazz. Now if I could only get rid of Stefano's uncle without having  to use the can of mace in my purse, life would be golden!

"Thanks, but I'm not interested."

"Of course you are."

Is he deaf, or just hard of hearing? Paris had plans to go upstairs to  her plush, sixth-floor suite, and nothing was going to stop her. She'd  toasted the bride and groom, smiled for so many pictures her jaw hurt  and fulfilled all of her maid-of-honor duties. And although she wished  she didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn for her 7:00 a.m.  flight, she decided to look on the bright side. She'd had a wonderful  time in Venice with her girlfriends, and reconnected with Rafael.  Hopefully, he'll be at the Excel Construction charity gala in March, she  thought, excited by the prospect of seeing him again soon.

"I'll take you to the party bus. It's waiting just outside."

Paris patted back a yawn and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "I'm  exhausted. It's been a long day and the only place I want to go is to  my suite."