Seduced by the Heir(4)

"Don't be crazy. Of course I'm sure. He's incredibly charming,"  Cassandra said. "Once you get to know him you'll see what an amazing guy  he is."

Girl, please, trust me, I know him. I've had that man in ways you wouldn't believe!

"Rafael only arrived a few hours ago, but the bridesmaids are already  fighting over him. Even the ones with boyfriends!" she said with a  laugh.

"They are? Really?"

"Yeah, Stefano's cousin, Julietta, told the other girls to back off or else."

Paris didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit. It was insane that  after all these years she was still attracted to Rafael, but she was,  and she didn't want him sowing his wild oats while they were under the  same roof. "Is there anything else I should know?" she asked, twirling a  lock of Cassandra's hair around the base of the curling iron. "I don't  like surprises, and I have a feeling you're keeping something from me."

"You're paranoid." With a grin, Cassandra added, "And horny! You want  Rafael so bad desire is practically oozing from your pores."

Paris wanted to tell her friend that she was dead wrong, but couldn't  get the words out. Am I that transparent? Did Rafael sense my desire? Is  that why he ignored me earlier?                       
       
           



       

"It's obvious you still like him, or you wouldn't be so upset about  seeing him again." Her tone was confident. "Just admit it. You have the  hots for him, and you want to rekindle your romance."

"That's ludicrous. I haven't seen him in years."

"Yeah, but Rafael was your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first love-"

"I know, I know," Paris said glumly. "Don't remind me."

"As if you haven't relived that night a million times in your mind."  Cassandra sighed dreamily, as if her heart was bursting with love, and  touched a hand to her chest. "You said your first time was the most  magical moment of your life."

"I was a teenager. It didn't mean anything."

"Good, so I don't have to worry about you and Julietta fighting over him, right?"

"Don't worry. I'd never dream of doing anything to ruin your big day."

Cassandra grabbed her hairbrush and pointed it at the mirror. "You better not, or I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

The women laughed. As Paris continued to style Cassandra's hair, they  discussed the sightseeing excursion planned for tomorrow, and the  wedding rehearsal at the world-famous Frari Church in the evening.  Everything was in place for Stefano and Cassandra's New Year's Eve  ceremony, and Paris was so excited for the couple that she was anxious  for the big day to finally arrive. Just because she didn't believe in  love, or the ridiculous notion of two people living happily ever after,  didn't mean she couldn't support her best friend. Stefano was a great  man, who treated Cassandra like a queen, and Paris was glad he'd finally  popped the question and relocated to London to be with her. They were a  dynamic couple, and Paris was thrilled that her friend was finally  going to get her happy ending.

"If things get too overwhelming this weekend just let me know." A sad  smile touched Cassandra's lips. "I'm here for you, Paris. Don't ever  forget that."

"Quit stressing. I'm fine, really."

"I know, but I worry that all this wedding stuff is going to bring back painful memories."

Paris dropped her gaze to the floor and swallowed the lump in her  throat. Sadness consumed her, caused her heart to pound erratically.  Willing herself not to cry, she bit the inside of her cheek. Three years  ago, she'd dated a man she'd hoped to build a life with despite her  feelings for Rafael, and now she was alone, forced to deal with the pain  of her ex-boyfriend's bitter betrayal.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared every troubling thought from her mind.  Instead of dwelling on the past, she was going to focus on all the  wonderful things in her life. She had a loving family, caring and  supportive friends, and a successful career. Sure, she hated her job,  and thought of quitting every day, but she'd rather suffer in silence  than disappoint her father. Paris wanted to make him proud, craved and  desired his approval more than anything in the world, and was determined  to earn his respect.

"Have you spoken to Winston's mother recently?"

Paris nodded, but didn't elaborate on the hour-long conversation she'd  had with the retired nurse days earlier. She couldn't talk about her  ex-boyfriend's mother without getting emotional, and just thinking about  the frail, elderly woman made her heart ache. She appreciated  Cassandra's concern, but knew if she didn't change the subject quick  she'd succumb to the clutches of grief and despair. And the last thing  Paris wanted was to have an emotional breakdown.

"Don't move." Paris picked up the pink aerosol can on the vanity table,  and sprayed Cassandra's elegant up-do with hair sheen. "Voilà, you're  all done."

"I love it, girl, thanks!" Touching the nape of her neck, Cassandra  turned from right to left, admiring her chic hairstyle. "When are you  going to quit working for your old man, and finally open a high-end  beauty salon?"

Paris groaned. "Not this again."

"Yes, this again. It's time you quit working for daddy dearest, and branch out."

"We've talked about this ad nauseam. I'm not cut out to run my own business."

"Of course you are," Cassandra argued, propping a hand on her hip. "You  got your MBA from one of the finest business schools in the country, and  you graduated at the top of our class."

Paris shook her head, refusing to give any thought to what her best  friend said. Leaving Excel Construction wasn't an option. Even though  she loved doing hair and makeup, and always dreamed of owning a salon,  she wasn't about to leave her cushy executive job in Atlanta. Traveling  the world, making great money and partying with wealthy, influential  people was important to her. And if she quit working at her dad's  company, she'd have to kiss her fabulous social life goodbye. "I opened a  salon back in the day, and it was a complete failure, remember?"                       
       
           



       

"Don't be so cynical. You're older and wiser now. Things will be different."

"I can't afford to take that risk. I still owe my dad thousands of  dollars. I'll be paying him back for many more years to come."

Cassandra stood, gripped Paris's shoulders and stared her down. "Then do  what you do best-find some big-money investors and persuade them to  back your salon."

Leaning against the vanity table, Paris gave some thought to what her  friend had said. It was a good idea, but she didn't have the time or  energy to take on such an enormous endeavor. Not when she had more  responsibilities than ever. Besides, no one in their family ever defied  her father, and Paris wasn't about to start.

"I'm going to go change." Selecting one of the dresses on the bed,  Cassandra sashayed back inside the walk-in closet, and shut the door.  Minutes later, she returned to the bedroom wearing a designer bejeweled  gown. "How do I look?"

For effect, Paris hollered like a cheerleader. Her best friend had  always been a low-key, no-fuss type of girl, but there she was, in her  third dress of the night. She was draped in thousands of dollars' worth  of diamonds, and her blue silk gown made her look as graceful as the  Duchess of Cambridge. "I love the color of your dress, and how it shows  off your killer bod. Your fiancé is one very lucky man!"

Giggling, the friends linked arms and exited the bedroom.

"We better hurry," Cassandra said, as they slowly descended the spiral  staircase. "It's time for dessert, and if we're late there'll be nothing  left. Julietta is a little, bitty thing, but boy, can that girl eat!"

Paris followed Cassandra through the grand foyer and out the French  doors. Music, laughter and the pungent scents of fresh fruit and flowers  filled the night air. With a dry mouth and an erratic heartbeat, Paris  stepped inside the tent, hoping Rafael was long gone. At the thought of  him, blood rushed through her veins. Try as she might, she couldn't  squelch the butterflies swarming around her stomach. He had a hold on  her still, after all these years. One Paris didn't understand, and  couldn't explain. Memories sneaked up on her, scrolled through her mind  in slow motion. The first time they'd kissed and the nights they'd made  love were deeply cherished memories, ones she had relived hundreds of  times over the years, and nothing would ever change how much she'd once  loved and adored Rafael Morretti.