Seduced by the Heir(5)

Once loved him? her conscience repeated. When did you stop?

To that, Paris didn't have an answer.





Chapter 3

Rafael sat in the media room, playing chess with Stefano, but he was  having a hell of a time concentrating on the game. His thoughts were on  Paris. Had been from the moment he'd laid eyes on her. Seeing his old  college sweetheart again, after more than a decade, had his mind so  twisted he couldn't think of anything but her. Stefano had won the last  three games, and if that wasn't bad enough, he'd bragged about his  landslide victories on Facebook and Twitter.

Realizing he didn't have a chance in hell of beating Stefano, Rafael  threw his hands up in defeat and reclined in his leather chair.  Low-hanging lights, plush furniture and colorful artwork gave the room a  one-of-a-kind look. The air smelled of roasted peanuts, and the  mouthwatering aroma made Rafael's stomach grumble. The wet bar was only a  few feet away, but he was too tired to get up and fix himself a snack.  It had been a day filled with surprises, and he still couldn't wrap his  mind around Paris St. Clair being at his best friend's wedding  celebration.

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he contemplated calling it a night and  heading upstairs to his bed. Paris was staying on the second floor, only  three doors down from his room. And knowing that his ex-the woman he'd  once loved more than anything in the world-was only a breath away would  be the ultimate torture.

Rafael heard his cell phone chime, and glanced down at the coffee table  to read the number on the screen. His eyes narrowed, hardened with  disgust. It was Cicely Cohen. His ex-girlfriend. The woman who'd  betrayed his trust for fifteen minutes of fame. She'd been blowing up  his phone for weeks, had left dozens of teary voice mail messages, but  Rafael hadn't returned her calls. Wasn't going to, either. He had  nothing to say to her, and the sooner she got the hint the better. They  were over for good, and there was no way in hell he was taking her back.

"Rafael, is everything okay? You seem distracted."

"I'm cool, man. Don't worry about me," he said. "How are you feeling?  The big day is fast approaching, so if you're having second thoughts,  now's a good time to skip town!"                       
       
           



       

Stefano wore a proud smile. "Proposing to Cassandra last year in Aruba  was the best decision I ever made, and I can't wait for her to become  Mrs. Stefano Via."

"I'm glad to hear that. You're an incredible couple, and she definitely  brings out the best in you." Rafael wanted to say more, but stopped  himself in the nick of time. He couldn't fire off questions about  Paris-not without raising suspicion-so for now he'd just have to cool  his heels. "Have you guys decided where you're going to live after you  get married?"

"We're going to stay in England for the time being. We love living in  London and now that my consulting firm has taken off, I'm in no rush to  return to the States."

"Congratulations, man. It sounds like everything has finally come together." Rafael picked up his wine cooler and took a swig.

"Where's Nicco?" Stefano asked. "I thought he was joining us for a nightcap."

"That's what he said, but Jariah probably had other ideas. My brother  thinks he's running things, but make no mistake, his fiancée is the one  in charge."

Stefano chuckled, and nodded in agreement. "I know what that's like, but  I wouldn't have it any other way. If my woman's happy, then I'm happy.  Cassandra means the world to me, and I'll never let anything come  between us."

"You sound like an online dating ad!" Rafael joked.

"And you have no idea what you're missing. Now that I've found my soul mate I-"

"Have you met Paris's husband?" Rafael felt his cheeks burn, heard his  pulse hammer in his ears, but faked a smile. It was too late to stuff  the words back down his throat, and besides, he was curious to know  about the man who'd captured his first love's heart.

"Who told you Paris was married?" Stefano asked, wearing a puzzled expression.

"She's not?"

His frown deepened, caused fine lines to wrinkle his forehead. "Nope, last time I checked she was single and ready to mingle!"

"But she's wearing a massive diamond ring on her left hand."

"Paris loves jewelry. Most women do."

Surprised, and oddly relieved by the news, Rafael pressed on. "Is she dating anyone?"

"Why? Are you interested?"

"I didn't come to Venice to make a love connection."

"Nicco said you dated Paris in college. How come you never mentioned her?"

He shrugged. "Because we weren't serious."

"Why did you guys call it quits?"

"What's with all the questions?"

"I just couldn't imagine you dating someone like Paris, that's all, and I wonder-"

"Someone like Paris?" he repeated, interrupting. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're polar opposites. She's a high-maintenance diva and you're Mr. Laid-back."

Rafael thought about what his friend had said, wondering if there was  any truth to it. In college, Paris had been the girl every guy wanted,  and every girl wanted to be. But he couldn't recall her ever copping an  attitude with him, or behaving like a diva. Loved by everyone, and  admired by all, she'd easily made friends. She had shone as the student  council president, and gained the respect and admiration of the faculty  and staff, as well.

Had Paris changed? Was she like all the other shallow, materialistic  women he'd had the misfortune of dating in the past? Unlike his friends,  Rafael didn't flaunt his wealth, and derived great pleasure from the  simple things in life. Hot summer days spent jogging through the park  with his beloved dogs; spending Sunday afternoons playing golf and  watching football. He'd yet to find someone who loved the great  outdoors, and humanitarian work, and doubted he ever would. Most women  he met were more interested in driving around town in his Bentley and  dining at five-star restaurants than getting to know him as person. And  since he had more than enough work to keep him busy, he had zero  interest in the Washington dating scene.

"Paris loves to party, and you're a recluse, so you'd definitely make an odd pair."

"Recluse? That's a stretch, don't you think?"

"No. The last time you went on a date Michael Jordan was still playing for the Bulls!"

Rafael had a zinger on his tongue, one he knew would wipe the grin clear  off Stefano's face. But before he could speak, his friend resumed his  interrogation.

"Did Paris cheat on you?" he asked in a solemn tone. "Is that why you broke up?"                       
       
           



       

"No, she transferred to Spelman her junior year, and the distance proved  too much...." Rafael trailed off, stopping himself from saying more.  What he didn't tell Stefano was that Paris had dumped him three days  before his birthday and immediately started dating someone else. Some  rich, good-looking clown on the football team. It's in the past, water  under the bridge, he told himself, downing the rest of his wine cooler. I  moved on a long time ago, and never gave Paris, or her loser boyfriend,  another thought.

If that's true, his conscience said, then why are you still bitter and  resentful about your breakup? Why does your heart ache every time you  see her?

"I can't believe you're still sweet on her after all this time."

"Stefano, knock it off. I'm not sweet on Paris. I haven't seen her in years."

"So? Who's to say she's not the one?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow.  He leaned forward expectantly. "Maybe it's true what they say. Maybe  absence does make the heart grow fonder."

Rafael laughed, rejecting his friend's opinion with a dismissive flick  of his hand. "Thanks for the advice, Dr. Love, but I'm not interested in  making a connection with Paris or anyone else."

But I wouldn't mind a few nights of carnal pleasure, he thought as  images of his ex-girlfriend bombarded his mind. Rafael couldn't remember  the last time he'd had sex. Six months? A year? He told himself it  didn't matter, because now that he'd reunited with his old college  sweetheart his sexual drought was about to come to an abrupt end.

A grin tilted the corners of his lips. Seducing Paris was going to be  more fun than playing high-stakes poker in Atlantic City. Rafael lived  for the thrill of the chase, the pursuit, and he had a feeling the sexy  socialite was going to make things very interesting this weekend. The  only hurdle would be hooking up with Paris without everyone at the villa  finding out. Rafael didn't want word of his holiday tryst getting back  to his brothers, or worse, his matchmaking mother. He'd think of  something, he had to, because tomorrow, when he saw Paris at breakfast,  he was setting his plan in motion.