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Mr. Bentini's Lady: The Beginning (The Bentini Brothers Book 1)

Page 10

by Jaye McCloud


  “I’m clever aren’t I Ti? I know how to write my whole name. Aunt Gabby says that my name is bigger than hers. My name has four names.” She boast holding up four fingers. “My name is Georgette Marella Elizabeth Bentini.” She beams with pride, smiling so big that the dimples in her cheeks show.

  I clap and pour on the praise. “Oh my Gigi, you are so clever and bright… as bright as the brightest star shining in the sky at night.” She really likes that bit of honest fluff…beaming even harder, reminding me of my beautiful niece, Renny. I would love to see them playing together one day. Their personalities are alike. I bet they would make great friends. “Wow, Gigi, you do have such a long name. I only have three names…you have more names than me and—”

  “And you have more names than your Uncle Tony.” Angela Bentini says as she comes back into the room. “Sorry, I took so long Tiressa.” When I glance over at Antonio Bentini to see if he notices Angela’s use of my first name, it isn’t hard to discern what his raised eyebrow is implying. “Gigi, I want you to go with Hannah.” Angela instructs her very animated daughter. “Nooo mama…I want to stay with Ti and Uncle Tony …pleeease.” Gigi whines and pouts, stubbornly refusing to leave with Hannah.

  Antonio Bentini comes over to where she’s sitting—still on my lap—and bends down to her level. His upper body is actually touching the left side of my body as he leans forward with his arm along the back of my chair. How is it that no one, but me, finds his proximity to my body alarming! The heat of his big hard frame surrounds me, making me feel warm and tingly…again. Everything fades into the background— everything, but the sound of Antonio Bentini’s low deep voice, and the smell of his seductive woodsy cologne. I swear this man is sex personified. Sneaking furtive glances at him, I can imagine myself held in the circle of his bulging arms, a willing captive pressed fully, tightly, shamelessly against him. Double damn!

  After shooting me a knowing glance, he begins speaking in a low voice so that only Gigi and I can hear what he’s saying. “Gigi, you know what the rules are about obeying your mother. Now, I want you to be the big girl that I know you can be and do what your mama says. Can you do that for your Uncle Tony?”

  “Yes, Uncle Tony.” Gigi giggles as she launches herself off my lap and into her uncle’s arms. Laughing, Antonio Bentini stands up and carries her over to the nanny. He and Angela exchange a peculiar look as he sets Gigi down just inside the open door then bends to her level giving her a quick hug. “Now, say good-bye to Ms. Hawkins, Gigi.”

  Gigi runs back to me and hugs my legs. “Good-bye Ti.”

  “Good-bye, sweetheart.” I quickly reply as she runs back to her nanny. Holding her hand, they walk down the hallway, Gigi chatting with her usual happy enthusiasm.

  “Tiressa, I promise I’ll be back in two minutes…please don’t leave, I want to ask you a few questions. Antonio, please make sure she doesn’t leave.” She says as they covertly exchange another one of those peculiar looks. “I really shoul—” I try to insist that I need to leave, but Angela dashes out of the room, promising that she’ll be right back.

  Antonio

  Watching Tiressa with my little niece has stirred my already fertile and overstimulated imagination. I can easily see her belly carrying my baby. And just as effortlessly picture her holding our child on her lap, talking to her in that same caring maternal voice she uses with Gigi. I have no doubt that any child of ours would be just as bright as Gigi, and just as beautiful. Coming out of my fantasy, I turn my attention back to Tiressa. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make her my lady.

  ***

  Antonio Bentini strolls over and sits in the chair right next to me. “Well, I’ve been given a mission and I’m honor-bound to see it through. So, Ms. Hawkins, I hope you will not object to my attempt at civilized discourse with you until my sister-in-law returns.”

  “Of course not, Mr. Bentini.” I’m not sure if I used his title to irk him or to keep a safe personal distance between us—probably a little of both.

  “Good. We’ll start by playing a getting to know you game.” He says with a sly grin on his handsome face.

  “Mr. Bentini, I’m not sure that kind of game would be the best choice.”

  “Sure it would…we’ll keep the questions simple. What can be the harm?”

  Although I don’t like being manipulated and I don’t want to play his game, I’m willing to go along with it—as long as his questions don’t become too personal or inappropriate. Exhaling a steadying breath, I reluctantly agree. “Okay.”

  “I’ll ask the first question, if it’s okay with you?” At my nod, he begins. “Which are you… a dog person, a cat person, both or neither?”

  I smile up at him because I didn’t really expect him to stick to the agreement. “Both. I love cats and I love dogs, but I want a dog more than I want a cat.” I like this question, it’s nice and safe… and besides, who doesn’t like animals?

  “Why?” That’s such a simple question—used effectively to draw a person in. To draw me in. I answer it anyway…anything to kill some time until Angela comes back. “Because I have a dream pet that I would love to have one day, and it happens to be a dog…small, white and fluffy.”

  “What kind of dog?” He asks with a mysterious look.

  “Well, I like many kinds of dogs, but what I want most is West Highland Terriers. There has to be two of them so that they are never lonely.” I can’t resist smiling at the image of the two white pups I hope to have one day.

  “You have a beautiful smile.” Antonio Bentini says in a low smooth voice as he leans closer to me. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I won’t take it back.” When I don’t respond, he continues with his questions. “So, why do you want West Highland Terriers?”

  Shoving his compliment to the back of my mind, I answer his question, this time unable to subdue the pleasure in my voice—not even a little. “They’re adorably small, they don’t grow big, they won’t take up a lot of space, and they are absolutely the cutest dogs you ever did see. I have lots of pictures and I watch YouTube videos or just about any video that features terriers, especially West Highland Terriers. What can I say…I’m absolutely in love with them.” I finish with a great deal of embarrassment for letting myself gush about dogs that I don’t even own.

  “Amazing.” Antonio Bentini whispers, enthralled. “You light up from the inside, when you are truly happy.” We stare into each other eyes, each of us captivated by the other. Time stands still. I can feel my body slowly drifting towards him, just as he’s slowly drifting towards me…

  “Excuse me Mr. Bentini, Ms. Hawkins.” The sound of the nanny’s voice startles me and I damn near get whiplash turning towards the door so fast. My wide owl-eyes refusing to calm down because I almost got caught red-handed, with my hands in Antonio Bentini’s cookie jar. “Mrs. Bentini sends her apologies. Ms. Bentini has requested her assistance and she’s unable to rejoin you. She doesn’t know how long it will take, so she doesn’t want to delay you longer than she already has.” I thank Hannah with only the barest quiver in my voice, as I prepare to leave.

  “Yes, thank you Hannah.” Antonio Bentini adds nonchalantly, as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary occurred –or was in the processing of occurring. “I’ll see to Ms. Hawkins.”

  “Yes Mr. Bentini.” Hannah exits as quietly as she entered.

  I turn to Antonio Bentini with a stiff smile plastered on my face. “That won’t be necessary Mr. Bentini, I can see myself out.” I say as I quickly make my way to the door of the study room.

  “Non-sense. Angela would never forgive me if I were to be so rude.” He replies as he walks beside me through the mansion.

  “This really isn’t necessary, Mr. Bentini, I work here. I’m used to seeing myself out…I do it all the time.” I say ungraciously.

  “That may be what happens normally, but at this moment you are not an employee, you are a desired guest. Now, please stop fighting m
e and let me do my duty.” He insists, placing a hand at the small of my back. My body immediately absorbs the heat of his presence there, setting off sparks.

  “Mr. Bentini, I don’t mean to be difficult or impolite…it’s just that I don’t want you to feel as if you have to do this. I’m not your responsibility.”

  He stops me with a firm hand on my shoulder as he steps closer to me, crowding me against the wall. “Ms. Hawkins, make no mistake about it, I enjoy being responsible for you. I want to be responsible for you.”

  What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I’m not going to touch that statement with a ten foot pole”, I whisper shakily. “I have to get going.” My heart leaps when he seems unwilling to let me move away from him.

  Then he does, but not before giving me a warning. “We need to have a serious talk. However, now is not the right time or place.”

  I’m afraid to even hazard a guess as to why need to have a serious talk…about what? So, I keep quiet. As we’re walking out of the mansion, Antonio Bentini looks at me sideways. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you? You barely reach my chest.”

  That makes me laugh. “I don’t think it’s me. I’m five-five, average height. I think it’s you.” Looking him up and down, I tease. “You’re a big boy.” Now, it’s his turn to laugh. “Just how tall are you anyway…if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “No, I don’t mind at all. As a matter of fact, feel free to ask me anything you’d like to know about me…personal or otherwise.” Turning my gaze to something safer than his magnetic eyes, I wonder if he’s going to answer my question or keep attempting to bait me. When I continue to look away from him, he replies, “I’m six-six. Do you like tall men, Ms. Hawkins?”

  Yes, I do very much like tall men. But, he won’t ever know that. His look dares me to answer the question. Instead of taking his dare, I shoot him a scowling rebuke. Which I guess he finds amusing because he burst out laughing again. This time his laughter is full throated and loud. It sounds wonderful and very male. When we were playing his getting to know you game, I wanted to ask him questions of my own, like… What does he like to do for fun and relaxation? What’s his favorite food? What’s his favorite color and why? Does he have a girlfriend? But what I secretly want to know is… Does he think black women are attractive…does he think I’m attractive?

  I look at him again. I mean really look at him. The way I did the first time I laid eyes on him. I like what I see…and what I feel when I’m with him. And that’s definitely a problem.

  The cure for my inappropriate feelings is remembering how grateful I am for my job, and how much I need it.

  Besides, there’s nothing to be gained by going down that path.

  And everything to lose.

  Chapter 7

  There’s so much I need to do that I decide that I need to work late—very late—just to stay on top of it all. Locking my office door, I turn and let out a tiny scream, taking an involuntary step back, hand to my chest. “Oh my gawd, Mr. Bentini, you scared me.” I utter in embarrassment.

  With his customary somber expression, he apologizes. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hawkins, that wasn’t my intent.” I’m beginning to wonder if Antonio Bentini knows how to relax. Most of the time when I see him, he has the look of a man on a mission. The only exception seems to be when he’s with his family–and even then, he sometimes looks only slightly less solemn. Smiling nervously, I offer, “Yes, I was…that’s probably why I didn’t hear you.”

  “You seemed preoccupied, is it anything I can help you with?”

  “No. Everything is fine.”

  “I see you’re working late again tonight. I hope my mother isn’t putting too much on your plate.”

  How does he know how often I work late and why does he care about my workload? Of course, I don’t say that. “There’s a lot to learn and there doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day. But I’m used to working late, it was my regular routine when I taught middle school.” Giving me a probing look, he cautions, “That may be true, but I don’t want to see you work so hard you make yourself ill.”

  Does he think I’m weak or incompetent?! Why would I not want to work hard…that’s what I get paid to do. “Don’t worry Mr. Bentini, I can handle the job”, I assert a little stiffly. The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement. “Your ability to do the job is not in question, Ms. Hawkins.” Then he suddenly becomes serious as he asks, “Have you had dinner?” The change in topic catches me off guard. Why does he care? I know he’s not going to ask me out to dinner! “Umm, no… no I haven’t.” I reply suspiciously.

  “Neither have I. Would you like to join me for dinner, Ms. Hawkins?” His cool expression, easily mask ambiguous emotions.

  Even though he said my name, I resist the urge to look around to see if that offer was actually directed at me. My heart is beating so hard I’m surprised that he can’t see it trying to leap out of my chest! Have dinner with a man who’s my boss’s son. He knows what the rules are… No way! When I look up, my expression is calmness itself, “Thank you Mr. Bentini, but no, it’s been a long day and I have to be at Bentini Mansion bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “You know, Ms. Hawkins, you still owe me a raincheck.”

  Where in the hell did that come from? “I’ve been working for Mrs. Bentini for a while now. The raincheck is no longer valid.”

  “That may be the case, but I’d still like to take you out.”

  “No. Mr. Bentini, you know that your mother does not approve of her employees being overly familiar with family members.” Why is he trying to get me fired?

  “That’s my mother’s way of thinking. Not mine.” His voice is strong and absolute.

  “Mr. Bentini, it’s more like her number one rule, and I don’t want to lose my job. The job that I gave up my teaching career for, because I allowed myself to be persuaded into going against her mandate.” By a handsome face that I find way too appealing. But of course, I wouldn’t dream of saying those words out loud.

  His eyebrows slant down, causing the skin in-between to crease. At first, it looks as though he’s going to persist. Fortunately, for both our sakes, he acquiesces. “I understand. But I insist on making sure you get to your car safely.” Before I know what he’s about, he takes the laptop bag from my shoulder and motions me forward by placing one hand at the small of my back, which brings our bodies into close proximity. He smells like fresh woods, spice and warm sensual man. His heady scent gently wafts around my face, inviting me to inhale deeper and lean closer.

  He’s doing it again! I try not to stiffen up as we walk down the corridor. His hand remains warm and firm at my back as we stand waiting for the elevator doors to open. “Since you won’t let me take you out to dinner, how about lunch?”

  “I don’t want to be rude Mr. Bentini, but you’re leaving me very little choice”, I warn as we step into the elevator and I move to the opposite side.

  “I assure you Ms. Hawkins”, he begins, closing the distance between us. “I can handle anything you dish out…as you said before, I’m a big boy.” His look is smoldering. The elevator ride is mercifully short. I’m so nervous that as I step out, I trip and bump into him. With lightning-quick reflexes, he places one of his big hands firmly against my stomach and the other in the small of my back as he pulls me closer into his body. “I got you.” He breathes into my hair. My belly quivers at his touch, and for a few seconds I allow myself the luxury of being held by such an attractive, powerful man. Then I come to my senses and hastily step out of his arms, apologizing in a shaky voice. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bentini, I’m not usually so clumsy…”

  “Are you okay, Tiressa?” He asks with genuine concern; seemingly reluctant to let me go.

  “I’m fine, just a little embarrassed. Maybe I’m more exhausted than I thought.”

  “In that case, I think I should drive you home instead of letting you take the risk of driving yourself.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Are
you sure? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  I’m unable to stop a disbelieving little laugh. “Nothing is going to happen Mr. Bentini. Really, I’m fine.” We engage in small talk until we reach my car and I unlock the doors. I stand aside as he opens the rear door and place my laptop bag on the seat. He moves to the driver’s door and opens it wide for me. Standing on the inside of my car door, I turn to thank him. Good gracious! This guy is really big….and so very, very attractive—not in a slick, manscaped, male model kind of way, like a couple of his brothers and Derrick. His attractiveness has a lot to do with how he carries himself. He’s sexy as hell and he definitely rings my bell! “Thank you Mr. Bentini. I appreciate your help tonight.”

  “Please Tiressa—”

  As appealing as I find him, I can’t let it slide this time, so I interrupt to remind him. “Mr. Bentini, I have to insist—”

  “And I have to insist that you call me Antonio or Tony…as I’ve asked you to before.”

  I can’t meet his eyes as I refuse his request for the hundredth time. “I’m sorry Mr. Bentini, but like I said before, I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

  “Okay, for now. I don’t want this rather enjoyable evening to end on a sour note. But just so you know, we’re still scheduled for a serious private discussion…and it’s going to happen soon.”

  I’m not willing to push for an explanation. I’m discovering that Antonio Bentini likes being in charge. “Well, thanks again. Good night.”

  As I close my car door, I hear Antonio Bentini say, “Good night Tiressa, drive carefully.”

  Antonio

  I don’t waste any time getting into my SUV and following Tiressa to make sure she gets home safely. I’m not worried that I’ll lose track of her because I know exactly where she lives. Pulling up a few feet beyond her driveway, I watch her unlock her front door and go inside her apartment. Lights go on in her living room and bedroom. I wait fifteen more minutes before slowly pulling off. She lives in a safe neighborhood and I’ve already checked out the other residents in her triplex, across the street, and on both sides of her tiny apartment building. As I drive across town, to my place, I think about how much I’ve done to make sure Tiressa was hired as my mother’s personal assistant. Nothing nefarious or illegal, but I did work some things to my benefit. I want to give her time to get to know me—to feel comfortable with me. This is why I thought it was a brilliant idea to just happen to be leaving work at the same time that she leaves. I know her schedule. As a matter of fact, I receive a weekly itinerary and know which days she’ll most likely be working at the office and which days she’ll be at the mansion.

 

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