Seduced by the Tycoon at Christmas

by Pamela Yaye

  “How was that?” Romeo asked as they exited the auditorium through the staff entrance. “Was the meet and greet with Il Divo everything you’d thought it would be?”

  Zoe wore a sheepish smile. “Yes, but I wish I hadn’t clammed up in the greenroom.”

  “You met your all-time favorite group. It could happen to anyone.”

  Taking his car keys out of his pocket, he disabled the alarm and unlocked the doors.

  “I feel like such a tool,” Zoe confessed, dropping her face in her hands. Pressing her eyes shut, she relived her ten-minute visit to the greenroom over and over again in her mind. “It was my chance to tell Il Divo how much I love their music, and I blew it.”

  Romeo opened the passenger-side door, then rubbed her bent shoulders. “You’re wrong. It was obvious to everyone in the room how much you admire them, so quit beating yourself up.”

  Raising her head, she looked him straight in the eye, a girlish smile curling her lips.

  “Is it obvious how much I appreciate you and everything you did tonight?”

  Zoe draped her arms around his neck. To show Romeo how she felt about him, she closed her eyes and brushed her lips against his mouth. In that moment, standing in the middle of the Teatro degli Arcimboldi parking lot kissing her gorgeous date, Zoe had a change of heart. She wasn’t going to sleep in the guest cottage at Romeo’s villa. They were going to make love in his master suite, and Zoe could hardly wait.

  Chapter 16

  On Saturday morning, Zoe emerged from the en suite bathroom in the guest bedroom of the lavish Morretti villa feeling relaxed and carefree, even though she’d screwed up last night. So much for a passionate night of lovemaking, she thought, plopping down on the canopy bed to lotion her body with shea butter. She’d fallen asleep during the forty-five-minute drive to the Morretti estate. Zoe was so tired when they’d finally arrived, Romeo had to help her inside to the guest bedroom.

  All wasn’t lost, Zoe decided, glancing at the bronze clock on the marble end table. If she hurried, she could have everything ready by the time Romeo finished working out. A creature of habit who never skipped his morning workout, she’d bet he was already running on the treadmill or lifting weights in his home gym.

  Standing, Zoe pulled on a mauve off-the-shoulder sweater and denim jeans. To make it up to Romeo for dozing off, she was going down to the kitchen to make him a breakfast fit for a king. She’d woken up an hour earlier thinking about Romeo and the Il Divo concert. Eager to tell her friends about their romantic date, she’d found her cell phone in her purse and switched it on. But it didn’t work. In her haste to leave the apartment yesterday, Zoe had forgotten to pack her cell phone charger, but decided not to fret about it. She was always preaching to Romeo to take a break from his electronic devices, and it was time she took her own advice.

  To clear her head, she’d treated herself to a long, luxurious bubble bath, but now that Zoe was dressed and her hair and makeup were done, she was anxious to start cooking. She put on her wedge sandals, threw open the bedroom door and hurried down the hall.

  Sunlight spilled through arched windows, brightening the villa. It was surrounded by leafy trees, a vibrant landscaped garden and rolling hills, and as Zoe admired her elegant surroundings, her eyes widened. Decorated in marble and glass, with designer furniture, bejeweled chandeliers and hardwood floors so shiny she could see her reflection, she noted the twelve-bedroom villa had an Italian Renaissance ambience and more amenities than a five-star hotel.

  Frowning, Zoe stopped and slanted her head to the right. She heard voices. Laughter. Someone speaking in rapid-fire Italian. She glanced around the second floor, but she didn’t see anyone. Realizing the noise was coming from the end of the hall, she moved to the closed door, gripped the handle and creaked it open.

  A smile warmed her mouth. Entering the lavish bedroom, which was decorated with plush carpet, scrumptious leather furniture, decorative floor lamps and an entertainment unit filled with every electronic known to man, Zoe spotted Romeo standing on the balcony talking on his cell through his earpiece and swallowed a moan. Holy heavens! What a sinfully sexy profile! Bare-chested, in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that fit his physique like a second skin, he reminded her of a swimsuit model. He had broad shoulders, a great butt and a pair of long, toned legs. Desire rippled across her skin.

  Romeo ended his call, but as he turned away from the balcony, Zoe noticed he had a pill bottle in his right hand and a miniature needle in the other. A gasp rose in her throat, and she cupped a hand over her mouth. Zoe wanted to leave, but her legs were frozen, and her feet glued to the floor. She wanted to speak, to ask him what was going on, but her mouth didn’t work.

  Romeo looked up, noticed her standing beside the closet door and turned white. Guilt covered his face. He dumped the needle on the bed, but it was too late.

  He reached for her, but she moved backward. For the first time, she noticed the scar on his chest that stretched from his collarbone to the top of his abs.

  “Zoe, wait, it’s not what you think!”

  “I know what I saw. I’m not stupid.”

  His jaw tensed, but he spoke in a soft, quiet voice. “I have a prescription.”

  Wanting to be alone, she turned toward the door, anxious to return to the spare bedroom.

  Moving fast, Romeo beat her to it, and slid in front of the door. “Zoe, I’m telling the truth. I swear,” he said, raising his hand in the air. “Look at the vial. My doctor’s name, the address of his clinic and his office number is on the label. Check it out.”

  The prescription was in Italian, and although Zoe could read it she didn’t know what papaverine hydrochloride was, or how to pronounce it. His explanation was plausible, but she still had her doubts. “If what you’re telling me is true, then why do you look so guilty?”

  “I don’t feel guilty.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I’m embarrassed.”

  “About what?”

  “I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

  “Waiting for the right time to tell me what?”

  Romeo looked pale, sounded breathless, unlike his cool, debonair self. “I was going to tell you before things got serious with us...” He trailed off speaking.

  “Tell me what? You’re talking in circles, Romeo, and I don’t understand.”

  He gestured to the king-size bed draped in black satin, but Zoe didn’t move. Couldn’t. She was so upset and confused she couldn’t think, let alone move, and still wanted to make a break for the door. Taking her hand, Romeo led her over to the love seat in the corner of the spacious room and sat down beside her.

  Zoe had a million questions racing through her mind. Romeo owed her an explanation, and although her inner voice was screaming at her to leave, she clasped her hands in her lap and waited for him to explain what the hell was going on.

  The air was charged with tension, and nervous energy filled the sun-drenched room.

  Zoe didn’t know how long they sat there in silence, but her anxiety increased with each passing second. How could something like this happen? Had she missed the signs? Been so smitten with Romeo and flattered by his attention that she’d ignored the obvious? Panic seized her heart. What else was he hiding from her?

  “Romeo, talk to me,” she pleaded. “Help me understand what’s going on.”

  “I had a heart attack last year.”

  His words didn’t make sense, didn’t register in her brain. “But you’re only thirty-two and you’re healthy, fit and strong. How is that possible?”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the past sixteen months, but I still don’t have the answers, and neither does my medical team...”

  Her stomach growled for food, but Zoe ignored her hunger pangs and listened to Romeo’s shocking s
tory. They were sitting side by side on the couch, but he spoke in such a quiet voice, Zoe had to strain to hear him. A muscle flickered in his jaw, and anger seeped from his pores as he opened up to her about collapsing in his home office one morning in August. He was angry at his body for failing him, for letting him down, and Zoe didn’t know what to say to comfort him. Romeo praised his publicist Giuseppe Del Piero not only for saving his life, but for keeping his medical condition out of the media.

  “If Giuseppe hadn’t stopped by my penthouse to check on me, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Thank God he did,” Zoe whispered, resting a hand on his leg. Romeo was a survivor, a fighter, and she’d never respected him more. He shared details about the weeks he’d spent at the private hospital and the exceptional care and support he’d received from the doctors and nurses there, but what impressed Zoe most was how his family had rallied around him. They’d dropped everything to be at his side, had flown in from all around the world to nurse him back to health, and he appreciated the sacrifices they’d made.

  “How do you feel now? Have the doctors given you a clean bill of health?”

  For the first time since she’d entered his room, Romeo smiled. “Yes, they have.”

  Perspiration dotted her forehead and clung to her sweater, but she sighed in relief.

  “I take a blood thinner three times a day and give myself an injection to help lower my blood pressure so my heart and arteries can function,” he explained, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ve been taking the medication since I was discharged from the hospital. I hate giving myself injections, but if I want to prevent another trip to the emergency room, I have no choice. I’ll need to be on the medication for the rest of my life.”

  “Romeo, your story is so moving, it gave me chills,” Zoe confessed. “You should share it with others. In doing so, you could save a lot of lives.”

  He shook his head. “I change lives by donating to charity, and that’s more than enough. I’m a private person, and I don’t want the whole world knowing my business.”

  “I know a clinical physiologist who runs a support group for people who’ve survived—”

  “No.” His voice was firm. “It’s not for me. I don’t want my clients or my staff to know I had a heart attack. It’s humiliating, and I don’t want them to think less of me.”

  “No one will think less of you. You’re a brave and courageous man who beat the odds.”

  His cell phone rang, and his gaze darted around the room. Zoe wanted to keep talking, to hear more about Romeo’s fears, and hoped he’d let the call go to voice mail. He did, and she smiled her thanks. Resting her head on his shoulder, she snuggled against him. She enjoyed the warmth of his touch, and his scent relaxed her.

  “Thanks for sharing your story with me. It means a lot to me.”

  Romeo cleared his throat, then coughed into his fist. “I have one more thing to tell you.”

  Zoe sat up. Her body tensed, and her stomach curled into a knot.

  “The doctors did a battery of tests on me, and they discovered that I’m genetically predisposed to having high blood pressure and heart failure,” he explained, a pained expression on his face. “If I had children there’s a fifty percent chance I could pass it on to them.”

  Filled with sympathy, she wore a sad smile. “Is that why you don’t want to get married or have kids? Because you had a heart attack?”

  “It wouldn’t be fair to pass my genetic condition on to an innocent child.” Exhaling deeply, he raked a hand through his short, tousled hair. “What if it happens again? What if I collapse on my wedding day? Or drop dead at my son’s or daughter’s youth football game?”

  She cupped his face in her palms, forcing him to look right at her. “Romeo, you can’t live your life in fear,” she said in a soothing voice, desperate to reach him with her words. “Try not to dwell on your condition or worry about the future. Make the most of each day, and enjoy the beauty of every single moment.”

  Romeo covered her hand with his own and kissed her palm. “You’re only thirty-two,” he teased, cocking an eyebrow. “How did you become so wise at such a young age?”

  “My grandmother was hospitalized in life-threatening condition a few days after I graduated from Long Island University, and one of the last things I remember her telling me was to live each day as if it were my last, because tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.”

  “Is that why you traveled abroad? Because you wanted an adventure?”

  “Yes, and to gain some self-confidence and independence. Leaving home and everything that was familiar to me was a tough decision to make, and it cost me my college sweetheart, but if I had to do it all over again I’d make the same choice.”

  “One man’s failure is another man’s success,” Romeo said with a lopsided grin.

  “You are so wise. Do you have any other pearls of wisdom, oh smart one?”

  “Obey all traffic laws. If you don’t, you could get hurt.”

  Outraged by his joke, Zoe snatched a throw cushion off the sofa and hit him in the shoulder. “You’re terrible!” she shouted, striking him again. “You should be in prison for reckless driving instead of sitting here making fun of me—”

  Standing, Romeo scooped Zoe up in his arms, spun her around the room, then dropped her on the bed. It happened fast, catching her off guard, and she never saw it coming. He jumped on top of her, and Zoe burst out laughing. “You’re a madman!”

  “I’ve had enough of your mouth for one day,” he growled, pinning her arms above her head, mischief glimmering in his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Aroused by the huskiness of his voice and the feel of his erection against her thigh, Zoe pressed her lips to his chin, his collarbone, then along the faint scar on his chest. “I could think of a couple things, Diavolo Sexy, but you’d have to strip first.”

  “Last night when I picked you up from your apartment you said you weren’t ready for a sexual relationship. What happened to change your mind?”

  Zoe inhaled sharply. Romeo had serious baggage, and if Casa Di Moda folded in the new year, she’d be leaving Milan for good, but none of that mattered. The truth was she desired him, wanted him and was tired of fighting their attraction. Couldn’t do it any longer. Zoe loved to be touched, and kissed, and held, and Romeo wasn’t shy about showing his feelings. Didn’t care who was around or who was watching. Zoe felt beautiful and desirable in his arms.

  “Yesterday, I was scared of you hurting me by hooking up with your ex, but I’m not afraid anymore. I’m going to take my grandmother’s advice and live life to the fullest, without fear.”

  Romeo spoke to her in Italian.

  His words made her heart soft. Beautiful, wise and sexy? Damn, you are the total package, and I’m glad you’re mine, all mine. Encouraged, Zoe nibbled his bottom lip. “We’re going to make love, and it’s going to be sexy and passionate and freaky.”

  A deep, throaty chuckle erupted from his mouth. “You are such a nasty woman.”

  Zoe winked. “Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “As you should.”

  He slipped a hand under her bottom, cupped and massaged her ass through her jeans.

  “It’s obvious you’re a woman of many talents, and I want to experience them all.”

  Draping her arms around his neck, she licked the rim of his ear with her tongue and rubbed her hips against his crotch. “Do you have protection?”

  Sitting up, Romeo yanked open the top drawer of the end table beside the bed. He rummaged around for several seconds, mumbling to himself in Italian. Grinning from ear to ear, he raised his fist triumphantly in the air. “I found one!” he shouted, diving on top of her. “Buckle up, baby. I’m going to rock your world.”

  Laughing and kissing, they rolled around on the bed, holding
each other close. Zoe was floating on air, so giddy with excitement as thoughts of making love to Romeo consumed her mind. His touch was exhilarating and thrilled every inch of her body. His hands were her downfall, her undoing. As he caressed and stroked her skin, she tingled all over.

  The strangest thing happened. An intense flood of pleasure inundated every inch of her body, and a moan fell from her lips. Zoe knew it couldn’t be the alcohol she’d had last night at dinner that made her feel bold but the intoxicating pleasure of his kiss. Shedding her clothes, she climbed onto Romeo’s lap, and shoved him down on the bed. Eager to please, she trailed kisses along his neck. Sucked a nipple into her mouth. Rubbed his shoulders. Whispered dirty words into his ear. Took off his boxer briefs and tossed them on the floor. Seized his shaft in her hands. Watched with wide eyes and a dry mouth as it doubled in size. It was long and thick, and stroking his package excited her. Aroused her. Made her want to suck it, lick it.

  Embarrassed, Zoe closed her gaping mouth. She grabbed the gold packet off the bed, opened it and rolled the condom onto Romeo’s erection. Turning around so she was facing his feet, Zoe lowered her head to his lap and kissed the tip of his erection. In that moment, pleasing Romeo was all that mattered, all she cared about, and she wanted nothing more than to make him smile. Last night, he’d spent thousands of dollars on her, had spoiled her silly from the moment he’d picked her up from her apartment, and now it was her opportunity to return the favor. She wanted to show Romeo how much she desired him, craved him, and used her tongue as an instrument of pleasure.

  “Zoe, you’re amazing,” he said in a drowsy voice, burying his hands in her hair. “Baby, keep doing what you’re doing... Don’t stop... Your technique is incredible...”