by Pamela Ann
We all cackled at the image she painted of Jared.
Everyone who was important in Silicon Valley was here tonight in Hank Rinaldi’s palatial home in Atherton. There were three stairways in this household—one for the servants to use, one for the family, and one for the public, merely for show (rarely used because Mrs. Rinaldi would have a heart attack if she spotted an outline of a footprint anywhere on her sleek polished marble). Taking the usual route via the second stairs, I slowly descended as I nervously skittered towards the rarely used passage leading to the garden. While I hadn’t run into any guests, I did, however, pass by a lot of the catering folks.
Relieved beyond comprehension, I took a moment, pausing just to recoup and recharge. My heart hammering against my chest did little to ease my tension. “Drat! Get it together,” I breathed out before resuming my steps until a voice halted me.
“Well, look at you,” a familiar voice came out of nowhere, blocking me from continuing down the long, mirrored corridor. The mystery person skirted my tensed figure, stopping right before my face. Dark eyes sparkled with mischief and whatever else I cared not to name.
This wasn’t the playboy I intended to secure attention from. “Move out of my way,” I gritted through my clenched teeth, earnestly trying not to show my irritation.
“Gisele?” Wyatt, Blair’s oldest brother, wickedly smirked before making a long, winding whistle, enthusiastically checking me from head to foot. “You’re wow!” he whistled again in disbelief. “Just. Fucking. Wow.” His eyes brightened with each word spoken.
Typical reaction coming from this man. “Oh, do shut up already, Wyatt.” I was wasting precious time conversing with him when Jared had most likely arrived. The man was never late. The party started five minutes ago, so he was out there somewhere, and I’d skin Wyatt alive if Jared was already targeted by some woman who’d want to be next on his list. Let’s face it; women used such events to snag their next trophy husband. The competition was stiff. and I’d rather not get beaten at my own game.
“Make sure to stay out of my father’s line of sight. I don’t like to see him as competition.”
“Ew, that’s sick!” I gagged, sticking my tongue out and all. I recoiled at the thought of Hank Rinaldi’s slithering eyes on me. He already had three mistresses. Surely, a man could be satisfied with his mini harem.
He cheekily winked at me, appearing not appalled at his father’s indiscretions. “He won’t know who you are, so he might get a little jiggy with it.”
“That’s not funny.” Not one little bit. “How the hell did you know it’s me, anyway?” I chose dark makeup specifically to transform my features. How in the world did Wyatt figure it out? Surely, with Jared’s sharp keenness on things, he’d immediately know, too. That was not good. Knowing such a fact made my hesitation skyrocket to obscene levels.
“Oh, honey, that perfume gave you away.” His eyes sparkled, consuming me slowly. “As you know, that night left me wanting. You’ve scarred me for life. No woman compares in my eyes.”
My eyes bulged out as I looked around, hoping no one was using this scarcely used side entrance. “Oh, shush! Your sister will hear you, and if she finds out, I’m going to tear you limb from limb.” The breast-fondling thing? Yeah, it happened with this man. Unfortunately. It was one drunken mistake, and to this day, he wouldn’t stop pursuing me for another impromptu rendezvous.
My outburst didn’t dissuade him from gazing at me strangely. “What are you doing?” His face perked up, sensing something peculiar. “You went to great lengths to transform yourself…hmmm…”
“None of your damn business!”
His hand loosely took hold of my arm, as if daring me to look him straight in the eye. “I’m serious, Gi,” he murmured, slowly closing in on me.
“So am I.” Damn you, Wyatt Rinaldi! He wouldn’t let me off the hook. He was too curious for his own good.
“Wait…wait…” Something flickered in his eyes before he cocked his head to the side. When his gaze landed on me again, I just knew he realized what I was doing here tonight. “Oh, no. Gisele, you bad, bad girl!”
“Shut it down, Wyatt!” The man knew me too well. He immediately figured out my motives without needing confirmation from me. My horrified, stricken expression said it all.
“But he’s too old for you!”
“Twenty-seven is not old!”
“Yeah, but the man has sophisticated tastes…and you’re a knockout, babe, but you lack experience. You’ll bore him within minutes. Maybe even seconds.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, ass-hat!
His words cut through me. Although I knew it wasn’t his intention, it still affected me greatly. “It’s quite rude of you to say that.”
Wyatt’s face softened as he used his forefinger to lift my chin. “I care about you. That’s why I’m willing to make myself a sacrificial lamb so you can gain experience from yours truly.” Although his demeanor was playful, I also knew he meant every word.
“Not happening, ever.” He’d been attempting to get into my pants ever since I turned fifteen. Nothing had changed since then. It was not as though he wasn’t busy sifting through one socialite after the other. He was just a flirt, a pervert of epic proportions.
“How you pierce my heart, Gisele.” He feigned hurt with a ridiculous pout.
My patience was running thin. “Move. I have a man to engage and seduce for the night.”
“All right.” He held up his hand. “The offer’s on the table. Anytime. I’m only ten houses down. Visit me anytime.”
He finally let me go. “Be careful, Gi. He wasn’t dubbed voracious beast for nothing.”
“Bye, Wyatt!” I huffed out, somewhat infuriated as I continued on.
“Don’t let him eat you out…for your own sake!” he threw out for extra intimidation.
I flicked a finger as I strutted down the hallway. His laughter echoed as I reached the double doors and strolled towards the opposite side of the garden.
I’d bore Jared? Wyatt’s words rung in my ears. As Gisele, it was a given. But as Lexi Anne, boring wouldn’t be in his dictionary tonight.
Taking a deep steady breath, I hovered in the background. It gave me a great vantage point to see the throng of people from the back, mingling and drinking to their heart’s content. Hank Rinaldi would show himself five minutes before dinner was set to serve. I would be sharing Jared’s table, along with six other people.
Jared St. James, as expected, had arrived and was now circling the crowd of CFOs and CEOs. As my father’s second in command, Jared knew the lot. I took a moment to appreciate him. The ache still thrived, but this time, it was mixed with exhilaration. Seeing him smiling and seeming so in-control of himself made me a little faint. My heart skittered. Breathless and out of sorts, the list of things this man made me feel was rather long. For years, I had pretended he didn’t affect me as much. On the occasion that my father invited him for dinner, I’d sit right across from him and pretend my heart wasn’t thumping loudly against my ribs. Blair made sure I’d be seated to his left since his right was reserved for his plus one. But basing from what I had seen, no woman hung off his arm, as I had predicted.
Straightening my Dior black satin minidress, I quickly gazed down to check that my sparkling stilettos were properly in place. My black painted toenails glinted back at me, my long, toned stems tanned and aglow.
He’s here. You’re ready. Go get your man.
Strutting through the pathway that was specifically set-up on the manicured lawn, I stood a good ten feet away, eyes homed in on one man, brazenly appreciating him without an ounce of decorum. While the guests milled and conversed, a few admiring looks came my way, but I didn’t budge my unwavering stare. I was on a mission, and getting distracted wasn’t part of the plan. It was as if I summoned him, or maybe he felt the weight of my stare, because the man cocked his head to the side, intense cerulean blues boring into mine with great magnitude. The men he was surrounded by continued
their conversations. He managed to continue the flow of conversation without looking away. His eyes remained, glued as our gazes locked and battled.
My insides curled and twisted with immense apprehension and excitement. Despite managing to get his attention, his unreadable face made it difficult to know what the man truly was thinking.
As the seconds ticked by, my confidence was being flayed layer upon layer. The intensity of his eyes made me feel faint. My breathing hitched. My confined breasts ached. My body involuntarily reacted to him in the most primal manner, and I knew then I truly was swimming in shark infested waters. No, this wasn’t a kiddie pool. This man would devour me, no holds barred.
Blushing and beyond disconcerted, I hesitantly looked away, as if needing a reprieve. When I directed my sight towards where he stood, I saw my enigma continued gawking.
My heart ricocheted. It teetered. Galloped. It skyrocketed to nirvana and to hell and everything in between. Disconcerted as uncertainty filled me, I hastily broke contact and began making my way towards my designated table. Since most people weren’t seated yet, I gathered my bearings as I stood behind my assigned seat before glancing over to where Hank and Josephine were making their way into his party. Wyatt, Ethan, and Blair hovered close to them. Vivienne kept glancing about the crowd as Ethan whispered something in her ear.
While I trying to decipher what Ethan was telling my friend, I felt someone right behind me, making me stiffen, standing ramrod straight as my capability to breathe all but left me.
“Business or pleasure?” His distinctive deep, toe-curling, thong-drenching, heart-attack-inducing voice hotly grazed the back of my neck. His Australian accent more pronounced than before.
HAIL MOTHER OF INSANITY.
I gulped air, and whatever was left of my rationality and lucidity, I surrendered them all in one hefty succession.
It took every ounce of me not to shudder in ecstasy. I willed myself to remain blasé, unperturbed by his close proximity.
Without daring to spin on my heels and face my kryptonite in fear I’d hyperventilate to a full-blown heart attack, I appeared calm, unhurried as I silently basked in his presence. His sheer masculinity permeated the air even though he was a hairsbreadth away from touching me.
As steadily as I could muster, I responded, “Pleasure.”
He leaned forward, and I had to bite back the urge to moan as his lips brushed against my lobe. “What do you do for pleasure?” His hot breath teased my diminishing resolve.
And it dawned on me; if I relented right this instant without baiting him further, he might disengage and find someone else with more challenge in them. So, with that thought in mind, I knew this flirty banter had to last longer if I craved to have him tonight.
“Is this how you seduce women to your bed?” I snickered, feeling quite wicked.
“You tell me…” he responded huskily, amused. “Is it working?”
“Still deciding…” The heady rush of seducing the man of my dreams thrilled me like no other. Gradually, my nerves eased a little so I wasn’t a basket case.
We were interrupted when it was announced for the guests to take their designated seats. Jared, like a true playboy and a gentleman put together, pulled out my chair, ensuring I was seated first before taking his right next to me.
The candlelit affair was as intimate as it was gorgeous. Mrs. Rinaldi sure knew how to throw one lavish soiree. My eyes properly took in the scene just as Hank and Josephine Rinaldi began thanking their guests for coming on his special night.
“Where’s your plus one?” he murmured faintly enough for the newly seated guests not to catch on.
My brow arched as I cocked my head to him, amused. “Where’s yours?”
“I guess that makes us both single.” He threw me a sexy, devilish smile, making my heart palpitate for a good second.
I suppressed the crazy need to roll my eyes as I lightly chuckled at his not so subtle innuendos. “What do you do apart from flirting with strangers?” The flow of conversation between us was great, and just when I was starting to come out of my shell, I saw Wyatt wink at me five tables to my right.
Fuck. I nervously looked away.
I’m going to skin him alive, I silently swore before I diverted my attention to a more pleasing subject.
“Oh, I do plenty,” the man uttered just as the wait staff began to serve or refill our alcoholic beverages. Once Jared took hold of his cognac, powerful blue eyes held me hostage. “I only flirt when something pleases me.”
God, if only I could devour him right this instant, I wouldn’t hold back. How was it possible to want and crave someone I had barely touched? “What pleased you tonight?”
He leaned closer to my ear before divulging his secret. “I’m looking at her,” he succinctly stated.
I made a coquettish smile while my heart galloped against my chest. “You’re skilled in making a woman blush.”
“My skills are legendary.”
Sending him a scrutinizing look, I took the provocative route. “Care to elaborate on those skills of yours?”
His eyes glinted, the candle’s reflection dancing before his arresting face. “If I give my secrets away, then they wouldn’t be legendary any longer, now would they?” His eyes lingered on my lips as he spoke. “I’m more of a direct approach, hands-on kind of man. My hands are my weapon. My head, the mastermind. It thrives on new ideas, eager to thrust for new experiences and enthused in exploring wicked thrills. Its inventive pursuits are relentless…utterly ruthless.”
My throat dried. We both knew he wasn’t referring to his “head,” but his notoriously legendary penile pursuits. My body flashed hot and cold, unsure if I should ask him to relieve me of my unbidden thoughts or to run the other way as far as I could. My riotous emotions were unnerving. But there was no mistaking how much I longed for his touch. One hasty look at his handsome face, and all doubt left my mind.
Since his words were loaded with sexual innuendoes, I resorted to safer subjects such as world hunger just to diffuse the escalating carnal tension between us. There was no question I needed a break to reboot my wavering confidence. I still intended to walk into the lion’s den, so to speak. But before I did so, I’d need to load my system with hefty amounts of alcohol. Losing one’s virginity was a terrifying ordeal. And after witnessing the animalistic glint in his depths, I knew he might not be gentle.
Unless I beg him to be, my mind countered, planting an alternative.
Throughout the five-course meal, our conversations were enlightening. For a moment, I wondered if he’d altogether dropped his sexual intentions with me since he stopped leaning close and whispering into my ear. In between courses, he actually excused himself to speak to someone, a couple, but the woman seemed too flirty for anyone’s comfort. So, while he was engrossed in conversing with someone, I quickly darted my eyes towards my friends, and I was greeted with thumbs up.
Upon returning to the table, Jared and I carried on in a friendly manner. Powerful men came and went from our table as they whispered into his ear, some congratulating him, some desiring to do business with him. As my father’s top person, Jared’s ideas had navigated the company to new territories. He was brilliant, and although his ingenious mind was impressive, I simply wanted him…without the accolades, the fame, and fortune.
As dinner drew to a close, the string quartet upped their momentum. I was just about to mention something hilarious to him when his forefinger lightly touched my arm, sending goosebumps, fireworks, and exploding stars, causing an electrically charged supernova to burst into my system, engulfing my body in flames, liquefying my insides as it sent a tingling sensation in between my legs.
Damn…his touch already felt insane. I couldn’t fathom what sex with him would be like. Good God, I’d most likely convulse and die on the spot. I was going to be royally screwed; I just knew it.
“Dance with me.”
Not yet. I needed more time to prepare me for his holy vaginal exorcism.
> I knew how he worked; I’d seen it a few times. He used the closeness of dancing to make you hyperaware of him. By the time the song ended, you’d be a hyperventilating mess, going absolutely gaga over him. I’d be one of those, too. That was why it was safer to decline his go-to “slow dismantling” tactics. “So you can slowly and excruciatingly disarm me? I’ll pass.”
A show-stopping smile appeared on his lips. His eyes sparkled. Feral and dangerous, as if I had baited him with a good challenge.
Good. I need him hungry. Very hungry. Ravenous to the point of madness.
His frame fully faced me, so I pivoted my body, slanting towards him. There was no mistaking how much he desired me. His eyes did all the talking, and boy did they strip me bare. They were explicit in their exploration, and even if I was in my dressed state, I already felt naked before him, ready for the taking. Through those magnetic blues, he slowly disarmed me inch by inch until my reservations were nonexistent.
It was time to cast the bait.
My hand caressed his jawline before I leaned in, making sure my thigh nudged his member, and whispered, “Maybe I'm not all that interested.” I made a coy smile before sipping on my champagne. I waited a beat or two before timidly rising from my seat and exiting the tent, then beginning to stroll in the opposite direction, towards the vast, dimly lit garden.
The moon was high, and it highlighted my path. I had grown up in this house, too. I knew every inch, nook and cranny the grounds had. And just as I concocted, the perfect spot was a few more minutes away. It was a good enough distance not to be disturbed. The party could be faintly heard from a distance, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out any sounds if there was someone heading in this direction.
The koi pond had a mini waterfall surrounded by cherry trees. It was one of my favorite places growing up, so much so that my father actually began planting the trees on our estate, too. I’d used to dress in my princess attire, custom armed with my magic wand as I played pretend in my cherry kingdom. But alas, tonight wasn’t about playing pretend—well, in a manner, it was since I wasn’t forthcoming about my real identity. But nevertheless, it didn’t make the situation less nerve-wracking.