"Mr. Vine! Stop and answer me," she demanded.
Dion suddenly stopped and turned, "I’m sorry, Ms. Reed. Change my appointments till next week. I’ll contact you later."
"You have six appointments today; shall I change them all?"
"Yes. And change all of them for the rest of the week," he said, then continued into the elevator and let the door slide shut in front of him.
~ * ~
Dion stepped into the casino with a grin on his face. Monte Carlo. It didn’t get any better than this! There was work to do, yes, but what did it matter if he did it or not? It’s not as if he needed money and the staff would be paid, regardless. What he did need, and very badly, was a vacation. He’d been working too hard, hadn’t played enough, there could be no other reason for his current condition. Finding a craps table, Dion threw down a hundred-dollar bill, not even noticing what number it landed on. Nor did he care. The important thing now was to get his mind right. To get his mind off Patty James. This shouldn’t be too difficult, he told himself. So why in the hell was it?
Moving on to theSalon Prives, gambling for high rollers only, he took a seat at one of the black jack tables and threw down five, hundred-dollar bills. Betting it all on his first hand, he split a pair of aces and won both hands. Letting the bet ride, he won the next hand with nineteen. Letting the two grand ride on the next hand, he split a pair of kings and broke even. After losing the next hand, the dealer raked all his money off the table, so Dion bet five grand on the next hand. A waitress took his drink order and brought him vodka on the rocks, for which he stuck a hundred-dollar bill in her cleavage.
No matter how much he won—or lost—he could not get Patty out of his head. No matter how much he drank, he could not get Patty out of his head.
"Dammit," he muttered. Raking his winnings off the table, he left five hundred dollars for the dealer and left the casino.
He walked toJimmy’z disco, sat at the bar and ordered a drink. Maybe he could drink enough to get her off his mind. Or maybe he could dance her away.
He grabbed a woman as she walked by and spun her onto the dance floor. The music was loud; the room pounded its rhythm out in the bodies of the patrons. Dion was an excellent dancer and he was happy with his choice of partners. Her legs were long; her dress was slinky, tight, low-cut, and riding high on her thighs. And her cheeks were sunken with that somebody-please-feed-me-a-cheeseburger look high-fashion models tended to have. Although she was over six feet tall in her heels, Dion discovered she weighed next to nothing when he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
"Where are you staying?" she shouted in his ear. Dion grinned, set her feet back on the floor and pulled her along behind him. She pulled back and he stopped. "I have to tell my friend where I’m going," she said.
Nodding, he told her, "Port Palace." He waited impatiently while she went to a nearby table and spoke to her girlfriends. All five pairs of eyes simultaneously looked him up and down, and five red mouths smiled their approval.
Back at Dion’s side, the woman took his hand and said, "By the way, I’m—"
"It doesn’t matter." With that, he practically dragged her outside to his car.
ThePort Palace,located at7, avenue du President J.F. Kennedyin Monaco, overlooked the sea in the middle of Port Hercule Harbor. The Palace was luxury personified. Of course, Dion would have nothing less than the best at his disposal at all times, and right now it didn’t matter where he was staying, he just wanted to fuck. Hard. Now.
He picked up his companion, carried her across the floor of his room, and deposited her on the bed. He stripped out of his clothing, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Holding onto her wrists, he pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Hard and deep. With one hand he held her up, with the other, he grabbed her dress and ripped it from her body; she wore nothing underneath.
Placing his hands beneath her firm ass, he lifted her, impaling her on his hard dick. She held onto his shoulders, her head thrown back, and her generous, firm tits thrust up before him like an offering to the gods. And since that’s exactly what he was, he sucked a nipple deep into his mouth, and heard her moan.
Backing up so he had a wall behind him for support, Dion plundered the woman. As she reached her climax, her pussy tightened around his cock, and he walked to the bed, laid her on it with her ankles around his shoulders, and he fucked her hard. Holding her by the thighs, his fingers sank into the soft flesh and he pumped into her, pounding her ruthlessly until she came again. Then he came, as well.
Afterward, she showered and he called the concierge service. Her dress was in shreds, so he bought her another and had it delivered to his room. When she’d dressed, he kissed her lightly, escorted her to the lobby and told his driver to take her wherever she wanted to go. Dion watched as the car pulled away from the curb, and then he went back to his room and showered and changed.
Looking at his watch he discovered it was still early, barely two in the morning. The night was young and he had energy to spare. He could spend days here gambling and fucking, but he couldn’t get Patty out of his head, and worse, now he felt badly about having just had sex with whatever her name was. And the worst part? He didn’t know if he felt badly about using the woman the way he had, or if the uncomfortable feeling he now felt had more to do with Patty.
And what the hell was that? Why should he worry about what Patty would think if she knew? What the hellwasthat? Why should he care? Why should it even cross his mind?
This wasn’t right, not at all. One little human he’d only met briefly on two occasions and then had hired on their third meeting was now twisting his guts. He didn’t understand any of it.
After several thousand years of life and several thousand years of debauchery, in his own world and in this one, he had never felt an attachment to any woman, goddess or human. That was why he had become convinced his mother had something to do with it.
There was nothing his mother would like more than to see him "settled down with a house full of grandbabies," as she so often reminded him.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and thought about all the implications on the ride to another club, and he still felt like his mother had her claws in it. Even though he didn’t have proof that his mother was meddling in his life, he knew her too well. She might be able to manipulate Ira, but he was a different man. A grown-ass man made his own way in life, his own decisions about life, and he did not bend to his mother’s underhanded, conniving ways of trying to set him up for marriage and children.
The fact that he couldn’t get Patty out of his mind didn’t bother him at all, he told himself. There were plenty of women out there and if he had to fuck every one of them to erase her from his thoughts, he would.
~ * ~
Following Monaco, Dion spent three more days and nights drinking, gambling and fucking. He swept through Cannes, and from there he went to Venice, and then to the Orient. Ignoring calls from Ms. Reed, he continued on his little trip into the depths of debauchery with glee. He’d done much the same back in the old days. Greece, Italy,
Egypt… the world had truly been a playground that Dion had treated as if it was his alone. Dining on the best food in the world, drinking the best liquor in the world, and fucking the prettiest women in the world, he’d been in his element. Much to his mother and brother’s dismay, of course. And he imagined that by now, they were pretty much disappointed again.
Day four found him in Spain, in the company of a gorgeous, dark-eyed diva by the name of Sophia.
Taking his latest paramour by the hand, he pulled her to him, crushing her large, lush breasts against his chest. Inhaling deeply, he lost himself in the fragrance of her hair, in her sweet scent that intoxicated him more than the wine he’d drunk earlier.
They were in a pool of water at the bottom of a waterfall. Dion had paid an exorbitant amount of money to insure their absolute privacy, but he had more money than any one person could ever spend in three lifetimes and he had a strong feeli
ng the lovely Sophia would be worth the added expense. As if to prove his point, Sophia dove beneath the water and took his cock into her mouth and he smiled, wondering how long she could hold her breath. However, he didn’t get to find out.
"Damn it, boy," his mother said, obviously furious. "What do you think you’re doing?"
Sitting in her private chamber, naked as the day he was born and just as wet, Dion ground his teeth together. If she hadn’t been his mother, he might have forgotten she was a woman, too, and decked her ass.
"What do I thinkI’mdoing? What the hell do you thinkyou’redoing? And who the hell do you think youare?" Not the least bit shy, he didn’t care that he was standing there naked, yelling at his mother.
"I think I’m your mother…"
"I don’t give a shit. How I live my life is none of your business!" he thundered. Then, as quickly as she had brought him there, he left on his own power.
"Well," Aurora said on a sigh. "I could’ve handled that a little differently."
"Really? You think?" Ira asked sarcastically, appearing next to her.
"Oh, be quiet," she said with exasperation.
"Mother, even I have to agree with him this time. That was totally uncalled for."
"Did you not see how he’s carrying on? Not the least bit concerned about anything or anyone other than himself?"
"And just what did you think jerking him out of that pool and into your chamber would accomplish?"
Aurora slumped into a chair. "Is it too much to ask for one single grandchild?"
"When you do it like that, it is," Ira answered and disappeared.
~ 4 ~
Down To Work
After a full week of decadent delights, Dion felt refreshed and invigorated. Not only had he managed to regain his perspective, he’d also had the opportunity to tell his mother exactly what she could do with her interfering ways. More clear-headed than he’d been in a long time, the following Monday he returned to work. Ms. Reed’s feathers were ruffled over his prolonged absence, but he let her surly comments slide right off his back.
Nothing could bother him, and he was absolutely sure he could face Patty now and be completely professional. After all, he had hired her for her abilities pertaining only to the job at hand, and not because of any emotional response to her.
Her qualifications were top-notch and she was exactly the type of assistant he needed. She’s totallynotmy type, he told himself, and that was a good thing. With no sexual attraction to distract him, he’d be free to work with a clear mind.
They’d keep their relationship on a strictly business level. Totally professional, he told himself. Everything is going to be just fine.
But if that were true, then why did his hands shake every time he thought about seeing her again?
Patty couldn’t believe how quickly she’d gone from the unemployment line to earning a paycheck larger than she’d ever imagined in her life. In fact, she was earning so much working for Dion Vine International, Inc., she fully expected someone to show up and shout, "April’s Fool!" at any moment. Not only did she not have to stress over all of those bills she had been so worried about just two weeks ago, she could now afford to pay off every credit card she owed. And not onlythat,she now had a passport in her purse that had been arranged by her employer, a company car at her disposal, and a limo was parked out front, waiting to take her to the airport. Oh, and she wasn’t going to be flying on a commercial flight, no, she would be flying with Dion in the company jet to Italy.
Italy!
Looking around her apartment to make sure she had everything she needed, she glanced at the empty cat bowls near the fridge. Leaving Elton was her only regret, but the cat had been tucked away at the Purr-fectly Pampered cat motel. The luxurious cat-boarding kennel offered mechanical mice to chase, stuffed doggie-shaped toys to chew on, and plenty of staff to rub a visiting kitty’s tummy. Elton probably wouldn’t even miss her.
The doorman buzzed her apartment, announcing that the limo driver had indicated it was time to leave, and she almost squealed when she told him she’d be right down.
Imagine, she thought, me, Patience Ellen James, running off to Italy with a man so gorgeous he should’ve been a model. Could’vetotallybeen a model. A man so gorgeous, even Brad Pit paled in comparison. A man, she reminded herself, who was now her boss and off-limits.
Oh, well, she thought, refusing to allow anything to ruin her mood.There’s a down side to everything.Pulling the handle up on her suitcase, she dragged it behind her, locked the front door and threw her purse over her shoulder as she headed to the elevator. This was the most exciting thing that’d ever happened to her, and she hoped she could do the job well enough that Dion wouldn’t be sorry he hired her.
~ * ~
"I told you it would work," Aurora said. "I know my children better than they know themselves."
"Yes, mother," Ira agreed. "But it would be nice if just once you could refrain from saying, ‘I told you so’."
His mother smiled brightly. "It’s simply one of the perks of motherhood."
"So, what now? How do you know Dion won’t just fu-screw her socks off then dump her like he does all the others? He has never fallen in love in his life. He’s brought lust to new heights!"
"And there is nothing wrong with lust, my boy. You should try a little of it once in a while," his mother noted. "But don’t worry about your brother; this woman is made for him. Literally. I saw to it myself."
"Mother, what have you done?"
"Nothing at all." She trailed her perfectly manicured fingers along the edge of his desk.
"I’ve been planning my youngest son’s future since before he was born. The gods know if I wait for you to give me grandchildren, I’ll die a lonely, old woman."
"Ha," Ira snorted. "First, you’ll never die. Second, you’ll never grow old, and third, you don’t know what lonely means. And as for me giving you grandchildren, if you’ll remember, I have responsibilities. I am your eldest son and you have left all of this on my shoulders. I’m the one who has to take care of all the personal needs of the lesser gods and goddesses, settle their disputes, and soothe their tempers and hurt feelings. I don’t have time for a personal life because I’m in charge of drama queens! And perhaps if my brother hadn’t been pampered all of his life, he would feel just a little more responsibility toward his family and not just his own desires. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been spoiled rotten by an over-indulgent mother, I wouldn’t have to do everything myself and would have the time to find a mate and have children of my own."
"Fine, I’ll take over while you find a mate," Aurora said, looking at her son.
Ira shook his head in exasperation. No wonder Dion was such a pain in the ass; he was exactly like his mother. To Aurora, he said, "Never mind, Mother, just deal with Dion, please. Otherwise, I’m afraid I will be responsible for you having only one son."
"Why do you make such threats? You love him as much as I do."
"Of course I love him, and I’d also just love to strangle him with my bare hands."
Aurora’s laughter sounded like music, and then she kissed her eldest son and
disappeared.
~ * ~
"I’ve never been to Italy before," Patty said as they waited to go through customs. "I hope we’ll have time to go to the Vatican. I’ve always wanted to see it."
Dion chuckled. "You’ll see it. You’ll have a guided tour like no tourist has ever had."
"What? No! You mean… no!"
Nodding, he said, "Yes, I do mean exactly that."
Patty leaned into him and whispered, "You’re going to break into the Vatican?"
"Not exactly. Here you go," he said and lifted her luggage for her. "I’ll explain it all when we get to the hotel."
Dion had watched her on the long flight across the Atlantic as she’d made appointments, updated records, and even made a pot of coffee. He liked her coffee. She wasn’t his usual type of woman, no, but she was something he needed. H
e jerked involuntarily at the thought. Had he really just admitted heneededthis woman? He shook the idea away and tried to think of other things.
He tried to focus on the job he needed to do in Rome, but he simply couldn’t concentrate with her so near. She was fresh and new and bright, and maybe that was what he needed most, he thought. After living for so long, both in his own world and in this one, there truly was nothing new under the sun. He took everything for granted, but for Patty, everything—all the experiences he was sharing with her—was brand new and her excitement was rubbing off on him.
He took a deep breath as he followed her into the limo. Her sweet little ass was right there in his face and he could’ve kissed it, had he taken a notion to. So, if it wasn’t his mother’s doing, and more than a week of fucking his brains out hadn’t cooled his desire for her, what was causing him to feel this way? He refused to believe himself capable of any feelings beyond the purely physical, but he was at a loss to explain the emotions rolling around inside of him.
If he’d only found himself physically attracted to her, he could have dealt with his desires easily enough. He knewexactlyhow to handle his physical urges, and lust was a familiar feeling, an old friend he liked very much. But these other emotions… he didn’t even know what to call them. The thoughts running through his head were a jumbled mess, and they all centered on Patty.
At the hotel, he showed Patty to her rooms, and then went to his own. Putting his suitcases down, he lay back on the bed and stretched. A single door connected their suites and he could hear her moving around, most likely unpacking and exploring every nook and cranny. He climbed from the bed and went to the door. He knocked, and she opened it, a huge grin on her face. He couldn’t help but smile.
"This hotel is awesome!" she exclaimed. "Come here." Grabbing his hand she pulled him to the open French doors and out onto the balcony. "Look at that. The Vatican! And there’s St. Peter’s! Can you believe this?"
Her face glowed with excitement, and her eyes sparkled with delight. This is what true joy looks like, he thought. Had he ever known that feeling himself? Had he ever looked out at the horizon and been filled with wonderment and excitement at what he saw? Had he ever been happy just tobe? Happy with what he had? With what was around him? The answer to those questions came quickly enough. No. He’d never in his life been so contentedly happy. Period. Oh, there were moments of happiness, to be sure. But every moment of happiness he’d ever had was because of something he had acquired, whether a work of art, a new yacht, or a new woman. He’d never been truly happy just being who he was.
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