The Tycoon's Secretive Temptress

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The Tycoon's Secretive Temptress Page 13

by Elizabeth Lennox


  “I messed up. I didn’t trust you. It won’t happen again, but I’ll make other mistakes. One thing I can promise you though, I won’t ever leave you like I did these past few days again. And I’ll also admit that I left because my feelings for you were too strong. I thought you’d done something illegal and I didn’t want to be tempted to help you. I wanted to be strong and, in my mind, being strong meant being mean. Since then, I’ve come to understand that being strong means talking things through and being honest with you.” He leaned closer. “I won’t do it again. I can promise you that right here and now.”

  He stopped. Waiting. He wanted to hear what she might say to that, assuming that she’d want to know what he’d thought she’d done. So he wasn’t expecting her to throw herself into his arms. Laughing, he pulled her in closer, burying his face in her soft curls. “Gianna, I’m so sorry!”

  “You’re right. You are an idiot!”

  He chuckled, and flinched. “Gianna…do I have a wet spoon against my back?” he asked softly.

  Her eyes widened as she realized that she was still holding the sauce-covered spoon which was, indeed, plastered against the white material of his dress shirt.

  “I’m so…”

  He stopped her with a kiss. And he didn’t give a damn about his shirt or the pasta or the flour. She tossed the spoon onto the counter. But before she could kiss him back, the spoon toppled her tote bag off the countertop, spilling everything onto the floor.

  “Your kitchen just gets more and more messy because of me,” he teased.

  Pulling out of his arms, Gianna surveyed her kitchen. It really was a mess now. But then she realized what was on the floor. The box!

  Rushing over, she grabbed the box and hid it behind her back. “Don’t worry about this mess. Why don’t you open a bottle of wine and…”

  “Gianna, what’s in the box?” he asked softly.

  “You said you were going to trust me!” she gasped when he pinned her against the pantry door.

  He chuckled. “I am going to trust you. And you’re going to trust me. So whatever is in that box, I want to know about it.”

  She shook her head, flour filling the air as it fluttered from her hair. Gianna coughed slightly, but she didn’t pull her hands from behind her back. “You don’t need to know about it,” she asserted firmly.

  “Gianna, do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” she replied, indignant.

  “I trust you too.” He twirled a curl around on his finger. “A week ago, I would have thought that you were hiding something you stole from the company. From me. But now I’m sure that, whatever is behind your back is something else. And no, you don’t need to show me, but I want to share my life with you.” He kissed her gently. “Gianna, will you share your life with me? Not just your body or your smiles, but everything. I want to know your secrets and share mine with you. I want to have a family with you and meet your Italian family, so that they will know that you will be mine for the rest of our lives.”

  She burst into tears with his words.

  “Ti amo, Gianna. Ti amo tanto!”

  His declaration of love stopped the tears and she looked up at him with surprised delight. Slowly, she revealed the box. Lifting the lid, she revealed the diamond ring, set for a man, nestled amid the velvet. “I wanted to propose to you,” she explained. “Just as an American woman might. But I started reading the magazines and women don’t do that here. At least, not as much as I thought they did. So I messed up again.”

  He looked down at the diamond ring, more touched than he’d thought possible. “I love it! And yes, I will marry you, Gianna,” he promised. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a diamond ring, this diamond bigger but in a daintier setting. “Will you marry me?”

  Gianna laughed through her tears, blinking so that she could focus on the ring. “Yes!” she gasped.

  He took her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. She did the same with his ring and she kissed his hand.

  “I love you! I love you so much.”

  And with that, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her out of the messy kitchen and into her bedroom. The following morning, he called the office and told his assistant that they would both be out of the office for the next few days.

  And he didn’t answer his phone when his brother called. Brant was sure that Reid was only trying to yell at him for dumping all of the meetings on his schedule. Reid could deal with the pressure for a while.

  Epilogue

  “Come on! They are going to arrive any moment! We need to be there!” Gianna called, herding their two oldest boys out of the bathroom, having given up on trying to get their hair smoothed down. At six and four, Giovani and Antonio were too filled with energy to care about their thick, curly hair actually being in place.

  “We’re coming,” Brant grumbled, hauling three year old Rebecca under his arm like a bag of potatoes. Obviously, he’d just caught her trying to escape because she had her usual mischievous grin as she bounced along under her father’s arm.

  “What did you do?” Gianna demanded, frowning at the bow she’d just put in her daughter’s hair fifteen minutes ago.

  “Daddy said it okay,” she replied, adorable chubby cheeks adding to her impish look.

  Brant lifted her up by the ankles so she was upside down. “Daddy did NOT tell you it was okay!” he admonished. “In fact, I believe I said no several times!”

  Rebecca only giggled harder, loving the gentle handling by her father. The little girl had complete confidence that he wouldn’t drop her. And there was the fact that she was the daredevil of the group.

  “Fix her bow! She has to look pretty!” Gianna yelled. “And stop holding her like that. You’re messing up her dress.”

  Brant pulled her up higher and Rebecca giggled harder. “Are you going to mess up again?” he asked her.

  “Yes!” she yelped in between gasps of breath because she was giggling too hard.

  “Then you’re going to have to stay like this,” he told her.

  Gianna frowned at her husband, shaking her head. “You’re not helping, Brant,” she said, her accent thickening as she worried about her parents and siblings arriving from the airport.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She groaned. “You’re not sorry and…” she turned, spotting her boys whispering in each other’s ears “No!” she ordered both of them.

  Giovani looked up, an innocent look plastered on his adorable features. “We haven’t done anything.”

  “You’re going to!” she declared. “And I’m telling you now, no! If you do whatever it is that either of you are planning to do, you will be in so much trouble!”

  The doorbell rang and Gianna breathed a sigh of relief. “They are here!” she announced happily. She headed towards the front door, but turned and looked back at her family. The boys still looked innocent, which was always a bad sign. Her husband had at least turned Rebecca right side up, but she was still grinning like a loon. Another bad sign.

  But then they all turned and looked at her, smiling and she stopped. Just absorbing the moment. For this one moment, her life was calm and quiet and peaceful.

  The doorbell rang again and she laughed. Her life had very short moments of peace and tranquility surrounded by absolute chaos. Delightful, wonderful chaos.

  “Fine! Get the door yourselves,” she told her boys. They sprang into motion, rushing to the door to let in her parents and siblings along with their spouses and families. There would be twenty of them this Thanksgiving weekend. For some reason, they always wanted to come for Thanksgiving. Having twenty people in one house for four days was absolutely wonderful chaos. And they always served mashed potatoes. And pasta!

  Excerpt to “Taming Mack”

  Book 3, Sinful Nights Series

  Release Date: February 15, 2019

  Click here to Order Taming Mack!

  “Who the hell are you?!”

 
Eve jumped, shocked by the angry demand. So far, she’d only received warm, friendly greetings from Cynthia’s regular customers.

  Turning to face the owner of the deep voice, her own anger sparked. He was tall, broad shouldered, intimidating and carried handcuffs, as well as a gun on his hip. The law enforcement badge softened the fear of that gun, but he was still scowling darkly, which caused her heart to flutter in a girly manner that irritated her more than the anger in his voice. The man might look exceedingly hot in that uniform, but that didn’t give him the right to sound so angry towards her.

  It took her several seconds to remember that this wasn’t her place and alienating the sheriff might not be the best idea. Small towns meant gossip. At the moment, The Bull Frog, Cynthia’s adorable little pub, was filled with locals, most of whom were curious about who would be covering while Cynthia was out of town.

  Pasting a bright, hopefully friendly, smile on her face, she tucked the empty pitcher under one arm and extended her other hand. “I’m Eve, Cynthia’s friend. I’ll be helping out here until Mona is better.”

  He silently studied Eve for a long moment. So long that Eve felt more than a little awkward with her hand sticking out like that. Finally, the man moved closer, taking her hand and shaking it briefly. Very briefly.

  “Sheriff Jones,” he replied quietly.

  Eve continued to smile, trying to ease the man’s glare. He was so tall, well over six feet tall, and the heavy, brown jacket he was wearing made his shoulders look even more impossibly broad. The hat and the gun… delicious! And she couldn’t forget those handcuffs! Not that she was into that sort of stuff. But if she were…into the handcuffs…she would really like to be handcuffed by this guy. Hmmm…maybe she was into the handcuffs after all. Blinking, she met his gaze and tried to focus her thoughts.

  Okay, not productive, she scolded herself firmly. She wasn’t attracted to him. Not even slightly. Another point, she hadn’t done anything wrong. So, why was he snapping at her? Surely he couldn’t read her mind and know that she found his handcuffs appealing! Because she didn’t! Not…well, okay, maybe a little!

  “When’s Cynthia coming back?” he demanded impatiently, snapping her back to the conversation.

  Eve stiffened at his belligerent tone. “I don’t know.” Eve moved closer, struggling to keep her hopefully-still-friendly smile in place. The whole pub was staring and she didn’t enjoy being the center of attention. “She’ll be gone for as long as she needs to be gone.”

  “You don’t have to get back to work?”

  Eve considered pointing out it was none of his business, but that small town issue raised its ugly head once again. “I’m a photographer. I can work anywhere. The wilds of Colorado will be an interesting change of pace for me.”

  Incredibly, the scowl on his too-handsome face deepened. Did the man even know how to smile? Was it a skill that had to be learned?

  “You’re a bit of a grumpy-Gus, aren’t you?” she whispered, leaning forward slightly. “How about if I get you a drink? A beer? Maybe some cheese fries?”

  The man continued to glower at her and she shifted her feet, beginning to feel more than slightly self-conscious. “I’m on duty.”

  That made sense, with the uniform and all. “Well, why don’t you come on back when you’re off duty?” she offered. “I’m sure a big ole basket of something greasy will help loosen up that smile! I know it’s in there somewhere.”

  She heard someone behind her chuckle and cringed. “Anyway, I’m not here to cause trouble, Sheriff,” she said, thinking of the old western movies her father had loved. “I’m just covering for Cynthia.” She pretended to salute. “No trouble at all, sir!” She even added a curtsy for good measure.

  The man sighed, rolling his eyes. “I doubt you can help it,” he muttered under his breath. In a louder voice, he warned, “Watch out for the Miller twins. I found them by your back door a few minutes ago.”

  Several groans were heard and Eve wondered what harm a couple of boys could do, but she nodded. “Got it. Miller twins. Trouble. No beer till you’re off duty.”

  She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out if she was mocking him. But not by a twitch of her lashes did she betray herself. In the end, he didn’t call her out and turned on his heel before heading out the door. “Snow’s on the way.”

  Again, a wave of groans was heard and she looked around in surprise. “Snow?” She blinked. “But its April! Surely there can’t…”

  The laughter stopped her words, indicating that yes, in April, there definitely could be snow. “Okay, fine! Snow in April. That means fires. I need to stock up on marshmallows.”

  With that, she moved back to the bar. “How about you? Ready to try the lilac martini?”

  Joe, a gruff old hunter who came up to the mountains on the weekend to fish, chuckled as he shook his head. There were only about three hundred residents of Minneville, she’d discovered. But that number swelled to over six thousand during the summer weekends and about half that number during the winter weekends. There were cabins all over the surrounding woods and most of the people who rented them came into town to eat and buy supplies for camping, skiing, fishing, hiking, or whatever else they might dream up to do.

  Scanning the room, she knew that Annie could handle the tables, so Eve stayed behind the bar, pouring beers for the guys sitting on the tall stools, none of whom wanted to get close to her lilac martini. Go figure!

  During a lull in the beer-pouring, she decided to be proactive about the menu. Cynthia and her mother had made The Bull Frog profitable over the years by offering not just beer, but also greasy, delicious, snack foods. Nothing complicated, but perennial favorites such as cheese fries sprinkled with bacon and sour cream or spicy wings. Unfortunately, the profits had dwindled recently and Eve was just the person to spice things up! Eve loved to experiment and wanted to try something different while she was here. Maybe a bit of variety would bring people in, adding a bit of excitement to the options.

  “So what should we have on the menu tomorrow?” she asked, opening her computer and pulling up her favorite recipe website. Clicking through options, she pinned several ideas to a new board, tossing out ideas to the four guys sitting at the bar. “How about stuffed potatoes with gruyere cheese?” she offered up.

  All four men looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “Okay!” she clicked a few more pictures. “Sweet potato bites with goat cheese and…” she didn’t even finish that statement, the looks on their faces nixed that idea too. “Potato puffs?” She almost laughed at the horror on their whiskered faces, then took the empty mug of one guy, filling it up, sliding it down the polished bar and grabbing his three dollars before going back to her computer. She looked at the options, then at the men. Maybe I’m doing this wrong, she thought. “How about Bear Patties?” she offered, looking at the picture of the sweet potato slice with a dollop of goat cheese and cranberries sprinkled over it. The picture looked easy to create.

  All four men tilted their heads slightly as if they were considering the possibility. “Yeah. I’d try a Bear Patty.”

  Eve rolled her eyes, thinking that some men never really grew out of their teen years. Make a guy think he was eating bear dung and he was all over it. Go figure!

  “Okay, I’ll try Bear Patties tomorrow night for an interesting appetizer. And what about a blue devil shot for a specialty drink?”

  More grunts, but the men looked at each other, interest lighting up their eyes. “Cynthia never gave us specialty drinks,” one of them admitted. “Might like a taste of a blue devil.”

  The others grunted their agreement and Eve pinned the cocktail to a board for future reference as well. She’d have to pour it into shot glasses instead of the pretty martini glasses that she’d found in the back of Cynthia’s storage area, but she didn’t mind. It would be nice to increase the revenues in this place. Eve had reviewed the accounting books last
night and realized that Cynthia had barely managed to make ends meet over the past few months. Something had to change.

  “Okay, patties and devils. Spread the word and we’ll see if the offerings help anyone’s hunting or fishing the next day.”

  The men obviously liked that idea. At least, she thought they were smiling. Some of them had beards so thick and wiry, it was hard to determine their expressions.

  Three hours later, Eve was more than ready to call it a night. Only a half hour until closing and the place had slowly cleared out. Most of the men wanted to get an early start, something about bears and watering holes…she didn’t want to know.

  “What the hell is a blue devil shot and how in the world to you think it might improve a man’s chances of catching a trout?”

  Eve spun around, dropping the dishrag she’d been using to dry her hands. Sure enough, the sheriff was back, his wide-brimmed hat tipped back so she could see his eyes more clearly this time. Nice, she thought. Just as handsome as she remembered. And oh boy, he still had those handcuffs!

  She shook the thought away. “I must be tired,” she muttered.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Eve moved back behind the bar, thinking it was probably safer there. She couldn’t reach the jerk to punch him in the nose for being rude again. Eve doubted the local law enforcement hottie would appreciate being punched. That would most likely qualify as “assaulting an officer”, even if he deserved it.

  Mack watched the delicately built woman carefully, noting the fatigue that slowed her step. Gone was the bright, sunshiny smile and the glowing eyes. This woman was wiped out. He wanted to tell her that he could get rid of the last two customers for her so she could close up and go to bed, but…well, he didn’t want her hanging around Minneville. He wanted her gone. She was too delicate, sweet…and tempting. She was like a breath of fresh air and he didn’t like it.

  Yeah, he knew that he was grumpy at the moment, but he didn’t care. His town didn’t need a woman like her. She’d been here for less than two days, and already she was changing things up.

 

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