Sexy in the City

by Alexia Adams, Galen Rose, Samantha Anne, Carolann Camillo, Nicole Flockton, Iris Leach, Olivia Logan, Nancy Loyan, Stephanie Cage (epub)

  What was his secret to driving her crazy? Was it his deep blue eyes with the slightly devilish glint, the boyish grin flashing the startling white of his teeth or the exciting feeling that when you were with him you brushed with temptation?

  With a shake of her head, she reminded herself why she was in his office, and it was certainly not to discuss her life or admire his physical attributes.

  Throwing questions at her was so typical of his style. A lawyer to the death. Well, so was she and she knew how to argue a case. “About Kate and her wrongful dismissal,” she began.

  Again he interrupted her. “You’re an orphan, aren’t you, Glory?”

  “Yes, I’m an orphan and I eat cereal for breakfast with the right amount of oat-bran to keep the old cholesterol down.” Her voice was a flat monotone. “I exercise regularly and I clean my teeth morning and night with mint-flavoured toothpaste.” She tilted her head and gave him a dead-eye stare. “Anything else you want to know?”

  He grinned like a cheeky schoolboy and her heart melted and she wondered, just for a moment mind, if he was too much man for her to handle.

  “I have a — um, a proposition to put to you.”

  She looked at him suspiciously, hunched her shoulders, and said, “A legal proposition?”

  His eyes glinted with mischief. “Depends on how you look at it.” He drew in a deep breath and ran his fingers through the lush of his hair. Lucky fingers. “I’m considering campaigning for Lord Mayor of Melbourne and I’ve been told by my campaign manager I need a nice girl by my side.”

  “You have a briefcase full of names and addresses, Edoardo. Give them a shuffle and take a pick. If anything you don’t lack feminine company. So what’s the problem?”

  He smiled indulgently. “I don’t know any nice girls.”

  He’d never choose a woman who might think about commitment, not the gorgeous hey-I’m-strictly-bachelor-material Edoardo Pisani.

  “How come I’m not surprised?” she said.

  His eyes softened to a warm blue as he looked at her. He was being too nice. She glanced over her shoulder at the distance between her and the office door. Hasty exit — maybe!

  “Will you help me?”

  The surprise at his question made her jerk back. “To find you a nice girl?”

  “No, to be my nice girl.”

  She jumped up as if ants had bitten her. What was he suggesting? Was he asking her out on a date? The large book-cluttered office seemed to fill with awkwardness. She was shaken, she’d admit this. But she was also curious and curiosity won the day.

  “What’s this all about, Edoardo?” she demanded.

  He slumped back against the chair, placing his hands behind his head, the buttons on his shirt threatened to pop as his muscles tightened, and his shirt stretched to tearing point. Mr Australia, eat your heart out.

  “Just what I said. There’s no hidden agenda.” His tone suggested, don’t kid yourself; this is strictly platonic. “I need a nice girl to be by my side until I gain office,” he said casually as if he were ordering a serve of fish and chips. “The right image a prospective mayor should radiate. That’s all. And I’m asking you to be that nice girl.”

  She flicked her hair over her shoulder, her mind a twirl of confusion. She looked away from him and inclined her face to the rain-splattered window. “Let me get this straight in my head.” She turned her face back to him. “You want me to pretend to be your girl, like pretend to be in love with you for the cameras, for your public image?” She paused. “Smile adoringly into your eyes when the press is present?”

  He had the grace to look abashed. “Yes.” He smiled, a rather laconic smile, and any empathy she held for him died a ghastly death. He was so darn sure of himself, it was a crime.

  Be his girl? If she wanted torture she’d have her toenails pulled out, at least she could handle that pain. “That’s a big ask, Edoardo.”

  He placed an elbow on the desk, his arched finger pressed lightly against his lower lip, he said, “Maybe, maybe not. What have you got to lose?”

  He leaned towards her and, reaching over, he touched, ever so lightly, the back of her hand. She tugged her hand away with a sharp forceful pull as if it had been scorched, needing to look and see if his fingerprints had branded her skin.

  He arched a brow at her. “Maybe there’s something I can do for you in return.”

  She couldn’t resist rubbing her hand, as if eradicating all trace of him. “Like what?” she challenged. “There’s nothing you can give me, Edoardo.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Glory’s eyes met Edoardo’s, focussing on the heat that flared between them. Her master plan teetered. He’d take her to his bed in a flash, with a wham bang, thank-you ma’am, and I’ll give you a call sometime, goodbye. That was so not what she wanted; not from Edoardo; not from any man.

  “I think there could be,” he said.

  He always had a comeback, always setting her back. She made a small, scornful sound. “Such as?”

  “Quid pro quo, Glory. Kate’s job.”

  “Kate’s job! Kate should get her job back because you’re an idiot to fire her, not because I agree to play your girlfriend!”

  “That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

  She wondered if she could do this and remain sane. Go out with Edoardo on dates, albeit pretend dates. Holding hands, smiling sweetly into each other’s eyes. Could she trust him? He wasn’t a hold-your-hand-kisses-on-the-cheek-man; he was hold-on-to-your-hat full-steam ahead-check-the bed-for-scorch-marks-man.

  She wasn’t made of steel and he’d think nothing of making her his latest conquest. She knew it’d take every ounce of her self-will and preservation to resist him. But resist she would. She had no intention of becoming another notch on his personal cupid’s bow.

  “And if I say no, then Kate loses her job.” That was something she couldn’t allow happen. A single parent, Kate depended on her position here and Glory would do anything to put a smile back on her friend’s face.

  “Yes.”

  Shock waves at his callous response. “You were never cruel, Edoardo.”

  His face told her he didn’t like what she’d said. Too bad if the truth hurt.

  “I’m desperate, and a desperate man uses desperate methods.” He ran his fingers over his mouth. For a sweet brief moment, she imagined it locked with hers. She tingled and a shiver raced up her spine.

  He pushed himself out of the chair and walked to her side. Her heart beat way too fast. “Look, Glory, there’s no skin off your nose. You get a few nights at posh places. Your photo in magazines.”

  How could she bring him undone? “I’m not photogenic. I come out looking like a mug shot.” She wished he’d move back from her. She couldn’t quite get her breath.

  He gave an exasperated sigh. Loud and long so there would be no misunderstanding about how he truly felt. “Come on, Glory, help me out here.” He moved away from her, parking himself on the edge of his desk. Papers fluttered nervously.

  Her mouth tugged down. She knew he had her cornered and he knew this as well. That was why he’d played his ace, knowing how fond she was of Kate and how she’d allow nothing, within her power, to hurt her.

  Again those devilishly blue eyes twinkled like a naughty boy who knew he could charm his mum and get out of trouble scot-free.

  “You never intended firing Kate, did you?”

  He had the decency to look abashed. “Are you kidding? She’s the best law clerk around. Man would have to be mad to let her go.”

  She stood. “Discussion over.”

  He reached out to touch her cheek. “How about I add some spice? It may change your mind about helping a bloke out.”

  Suspicion lingered in her mind. What was he up to now? His legal brain as sharp as a tack, well so was hers, an
d she was ready for anything Edoardo handed out. “And that would be?”

  “I’ll throw Kate an extra bonus.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten thousand.”

  “On top of her bonus she receives now?”

  “Yes.”

  Excellent, but Kate had big problems. “Not enough for all her pain and suffering. Could make good litigation out of this and come out with bells on our toes,” she said. “She’s worked like a dog for you since you opened this practice and personally I think she deserves a big fat bonus, don’t you, Edoardo? And every year from now on.”

  His brows burrowed as his forehead crinkled into frown lines. “You’re not in court.”

  She grinned. “Yet,” she said sweetly.

  A grin twitched the corners of his delectable mouth. How could one man have so much? “Okay, I’ll double the offer. Twenty thousand.”

  “And?”

  “And every year from now on.”

  A nice bank balance for Kate for any emergency that may arise, this was a sweet deal. Well, for Kate anyhow.

  She wasn’t quite sure how she’d go being on a personal level with Edoardo; she didn’t want to end up drooling all over his hand-made Berluti shoes. As if. “Now you’re talking.”

  “You strike a hard bargain, Glory.”

  “I learnt it from you, Edoardo.”

  His blue eyes flashed, as he held out a big hand. “Deal?” He did a Groucho Marx thingy with his eyebrows. He was irresistible.

  And she couldn’t help grinning. He really was so nice, so charming — sometimes. Darn shame Edoardo Pisani was Casanova reincarnated.

  She stood and slid her hand inside his. Firm yet warm, tingly. Her body swayed towards his and, as he leaned forward, her mouth opened slightly as if to welcome his kiss. She drew back and lightly shook her head. “Deal,” she said.

  He gave her hand a light squeeze before releasing it. Adrenaline surged, which she was thankful for as she was beginning to hyperventilate at an alarming rate.

  “First things first,” he said. “I want you to meet my campaign manager, George Bellows, and his wife Beth. Nice people. You’ll like them.”

  “For approval, Edoardo?”

  He looked genuinely surprised. “What do you mean by that crack?”

  “The okay from your campaign manager that I’m the right type of girl. A nice girl.”

  Now he was angry. His eyes blue thunder. Well, too bad, Edoardo, you can’t have it all your own way.

  “Nothing of the sort,” he said. “George is a lifetime friend of my family. I want him to meet you and vice-versa.”

  The confusion in his voice stabbed at Glory’s heart.

  “Why do you twist everything I say?” he asked.

  She held up her hand, pleased that she had rattled the unflappable, even if only slightly. “Okay, Okay, don’t blow your top. I’ll meet them.”

  He settled back in his chair. His gorgeously sculptured mouth pulling slightly down at the corners, made him look more irresistible, if that were possible, and an image of him, clad only in jeans, his muscular chest smoothed with oil and rippling deliciously every time he moved, flashed into her mind.

  Cool down, girl.

  “We’ll have dinner with them tonight.”

  Was he kidding? She wasn’t mentally prepared. She needed like about ten years or so. “Tonight?” she spluttered. “I’m not sure about tonight.”

  He laughed softly the oh-so-sure-of-himself Edoardo now back and confident of his ability to charm her. “And that would be because — ?”

  “I’ve got so much work to do,” she muttered. “I need to catch up.”

  “That’s never stopped you before. You’ve dropped work at a minute’s notice when it’s been a business dinner.”

  Her nostrils flared with irritation. If she concentrated she could dislike Edoardo intensely. All it needed was self-will and deep mental yoga.

  “Tonight is fine.”

  He was laughing at her. She could see it in his eyes and in the twitching of his mouth and her frustration and anger grew.

  “Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “I can meet you at the restaurant, if you like.”

  He gave her a thunderous look. “I never allow women to meet me at restaurants.” And that was that.

  He sat back at his desk, head down; meeting finished, and like lamb to slaughter Glory left his office.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Glory took ages to get ready. Her bed was laden with cast off clothes as she searched for the perfect outfit. She told herself she was trying to impress George Bellows and his wife, but deep down she knew she wanted to throw Edoardo back on his heels, make him sit up and take notice.

  For work she wore top designer suits like Prada, Versace, and Cavalli and, of course, Armani. A suit was professional, classy, and elegant. A suit screamed power, competence, and ambition, an image she strived for and had succeeded in attaining.

  Tonight she wanted a different look. Tonight she wanted to look feminine, sexy, and chic.

  Dating Edoardo?

  She couldn’t believe it was happening. Yet the relief and smiles from Kate was worth it. She’d tried to corner Glory with endless questions. What had she said to make Edoardo change his mind? What had Edoardo said? And why, after giving Kate the royal order of the boot had he offered the extraordinarily yummy bonus?

  Glory had mumbled something about Edoardo realising his mistake and wanting to make amends. That he had acted in haste.

  She knew Kate was far from finished. That she did indeed intend to cross-examine. There would be more grilling until Kate wormed the truth from her.

  The front door bell rang, and she swallowed down the tiny surge of apprehension that floated up into her throat. She wouldn’t allow Edoardo, or any man, to unnerve her.

  She’d fought all savage foes and had come out a winner; so one big gorgeous hunk of a bloke with electric blue eyes and a mouth that Pablo Picasso would give his last paintbrush to capture on canvas wasn’t any more to her than a jumping flea in a teacup.

  Confidence restored, she took one last look in the mirror, a fluff of her hair, maybe a touch more lipstick, and da dah ready or not here comes Glory.

  Edoardo stood there and smiled his dimpled smile, and everything dissolved into the background. He was handsome and strong and so virile he made her blood bubble.

  He wore a black moleskin jacket, cream business shirt with a dark gray and black striped tie, and gray gabardine trousers. He looked tough but sensitive.

  For a brief moment they measured each other, and then he leaned forward and lowered his voice intriguingly. “You look lovely.”

  She glanced down at what she was wearing. A cream and silver vertical stripe pants-suit, but with a feminine touch under the jacket, a silk/satin waistcoat on bare skin. She’d always felt good in this suit, and knew it was most suitable for dinner.

  He leaned in closer. Her heart thumped crazily in her chest. His smell overpowered her; cedar wood aftershave, citrus soap, totally male odours.

  And when he kissed her softly on the mouth, an affectionate kiss, not the passion she so craved from him, yet she was rendered nonoperational, a limp version of her former self.

  “You kissed me.” She touched her lips with her fingers.

  “Let’s try it again and this time you kiss me back,” he said.

  She didn’t argue and when his mouth connected with hers, she pressed hard against his mouth. She opened her lips slightly and explored with the tip of her tongue. They broke apart, breathing heavily. She’d been kissed before but never quite like this.

  “That’s better,” he said softly.

  The breath had all but left her body. She breathed deeply through her nostrils. She lo
ved him so darn much. If only he didn’t play the field. If only he wanted to settle down, marry, and have kids. If only …

  “Want a drink before we go?”

  He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “Maybe when we get back?”

  Like that was going to happen; sitting in front of a roaring fire, sipping wine, swapping work stories, kissing. Her resistance towards him was at an all-time low.

  He reminded her of the dark handsome prince from fairy-tales of her childhood. The prince who always rescued the princess from danger; who’d sweep her up onto his white steed and ride her away to his castle in the clouds; the prince who always kissed the princess and whispered his love on promises of happily-ever-after.

  Edoardo Pisani was a fairy-tale prince scared of commitment. Not for the first time she wondered why he was. What had happened that made him a serial womanizer? The perpetual bachelor? What was that touch of sadness deep in his eyes? Had he been hurt in the past?

  She longed to know the Edoardo Pisani story.

  In the practice he was sweet, understanding of his staff’s needs, taking time to listen and help wherever he could. She liked his gentleness, his humour, his compassion, and the way he gave his full attention to whomever was speaking to him. This kind-heartedness had attracted her to him in the first place.

  In court, he was ruthless. Once Edoardo believed his client was innocent — that was the only way he’d accept a case and this was her ruling too — he let nothing stand in his way of success.

  In her mind’s eye he was standing in front of the jury box, belting out his closing address, the way his muscles rippled across his back as he waved his hands for effect. His spread-eagle stance, arms on slim hips, shoulders broad and strong, and his brilliant blue eyes sparkling with triumph he knew was already his.

  She hardened her heart and took a silent resolve not to allow this man’s magic to twist her emotions. She told herself that she would remain constantly alert and in control of the situation, no matter what happened.