Secrets and Seduction Las Vegas (Sexy Italian Imports Book 1)

by Laura Breck

  “Stop.” His brows drew together. “For God’s sake, Valerie.” His hand fisted. “You push me too far.”

  She sat back, sobered by his warning. She closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? He was intensely into her, and yet she deliberately enticed him.

  With the wine spinning her brain, she’d allowed desire to launch her out of control.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I…I’m going to the ladies room.” She jumped up out of the booth—too quickly. The room shifted. She blinked to focus, walked hesitantly to the back of the restaurant, and found the dark hall leading to the restrooms. As her hand touched the women’s room door, an arm came around her and pulled her back against a solid wall of muscle.

  “You are poison.” Antonio wrapped his arm beneath her breasts. He pulled her backward into an empty meeting room and closed the door behind them.

  Chapter Seven

  Antonio slid his hand in Valerie’s hair and turned her head, tipped it off to the side, and kissed her neck. His tongue teased her, his lips pressed on her sensitive flesh. He whispered in her ear, Italian love words.

  “La donna più bella che ho visto mai. Angelo mio.”

  She was holding her breath, and she inhaled deeply, smelling his intoxicating aftershave. Her body melted to his, her nipples hardened. The fabric of her dress rubbed against them as his arm tightened at her ribs. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and she grabbed his thighs. He jolted at her touch.

  His tongue touched her ear, tracing it slowly, his breath hot, whispering and promising. “Bella, I want you.” The heat of her blood pounded through her, pooled in her belly. His thumb moved up her breast, gently, slowly, maddeningly slow. When he touched her nipple through the fabric, she shuddered, let out a breathless moan.

  “Antonio, oh please.”

  He moved his hand from her hair to her stomach, pressing her back against his hard erection. Her body responded with primal abandon. Unable to stop herself, she moved her hips, circling slowly.

  “Anima mia, you are outrageous.” His hand moved lower, lifted the hem of her sundress. He touched her bare stomach, ran his hand down her hip to her thigh, caressing gently. His hand at her breast teased her nipple. He sucked the skin below her ear, sucked her earlobe. His fingers tentatively touched her panties, and she abandoned herself to the extreme pleasure.

  She spread her thighs apart slightly, tipped her hips to bring herself up to his hand.

  He made a choking sound deep in his throat. “Yes, Valerie. Sweet. Perfect.” He dipped his fingers inside her panties, touching her there. She started to spiral just like in her dreams. Spreading her gently, his finger found her clit. He rubbed, circled once, twice, and then she screamed.

  “Oh, God!” She left her body, left the world. The sun exploded, its heat centered between her legs. Her body shook with ecstasy. He bit her neck. The pleasure drove her higher. Her heart beat too fast, her breath panting through her open mouth. Then, slowly she descended, chills racing through her body; she shook as she collapsed against him.

  Thank heavens he had his arms around her, or she would fall. He turned her to face him, held her tightly. She slid her hands around his waist and rested her head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

  “Bella mia.” His words brought her slowly, languidly back to reality.

  She was in heaven, exactly where she wanted to be. Well, in his arms, yes, but not in a meeting room in a restaurant.

  She laughed softly. “Wow.”

  He groaned. “Yeah, wow is right. You are so damn sexy. Unbelievable.” He kissed the top of her head.

  They’d never kissed, but he’d just played her body like an instrument. What a wild beginning to their relationship.

  His hard cock pressed against her belly. She pulled back a fraction, looked up into his eyes, ran her hand under his shirt on his back, then around front to his stomach.

  He stared at her, his eyes smoldering with desire, his breathing fast and hot.

  She put her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, but he grabbed her wrist.

  “Wait,” he said.

  “No.” She dipped her fingers lower and touched him.

  He jumped, pulled her wrist away.

  “Not here. I am an animal to have you here. You deserve better.”

  She smiled seductively. “I don’t mind.”

  “Cara mia.” He kissed her hand. “We’re going to my place. Don’t say no.” He watched her closely.

  She looked up at him. Her desire made her voice breathy. “Let’s go.” It was going to happen. The realization made her giddy.

  “Valerie.” He touched her chin, tipped her head up, and kissed her gently on the lips then grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the room, back to their table. In her purse, her phone rang, but she ignored it. He opened his wallet and threw a hundred dollar bill on the table. She picked up her purse, and they sprinted out the door.

  He opened her car door for her. “Follow me.”

  Her phone rang again and she reached for it.

  “No.” His eyebrow shot up.

  “It could be a work emergency.” She pulled her phone out of her purse. “If it’s not, I’ll…” She checked the screen. “Oh, God.”

  He grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the phone. “No. Don’t answer.”

  Her stomach soured. “It’s Troy.” The man she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cheat on. And she had.

  ****

  Antonio released Valerie’s hand. Her face grew pale, her eyes shining with tears.

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “You are so wrong.” She gasped in a shaky breath. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this to Troy. He’s a wonderful person. He deserves better than my slutty behavior.”

  He stepped toward her, but she jumped back. He held out his hand. “Don’t make this thing between us sound dirty. What happened in there…” He tipped his head toward the restaurant. “It was good, Valerie. Amazing.”

  She shook her head and got into her car. “It was wrong. It is wrong.” Her tears tracked down her face. She looked at him, her eyes stormy gray. “I don’t even know you.”

  He closed her car door, left his hands on it, and leaned over her. “Get to know me, Valerie. We can’t ignore this.”

  “I…” She started her car. “I’m not sure.”

  “Call me.” He sounded too desperate, even to his own ears.

  She shifted into gear, he stepped back, and she left the parking lot. His chest hurt with the loss of her presence. Was she gone for good? Had he screwed up another part of his life?

  ****

  Joe looked at his phone. Monica. He didn’t answer, knowing that the resident who was about to perform a tracheotomy needed his attention more than his girlfriend did.

  An hour later, Joe shrugged his eyebrows. “Girlfriend?” Sitting on the bed in Room C of the doctors’ lounge, he admitted that one helicopter flight and one very arousing kiss didn’t make her his girlfriend. They talked a few times in the last three weeks, but their schedules meant they missed each other more than they connected.

  He opened the triangular plastic container holding the ham and cheese sandwich he’d picked up from the cafeteria and took a bite of the stale bread. He grimaced. No amount of mustard would help this one.

  Lying back on the bed, he opened his phone to text her. Three in the morning was not the optimal time to call. He looked around the familiar room. Too many nights spent here in the last few years. Damn.

  At one time, a resident had made a gold star with “Joe Pappa, MD” printed on it and attached it to the outside of the door. The star had ended up crumpled and in the trash one night after he’d been unable to resuscitate a teenage boy who’d overloaded himself with his father’s whiskey.

  The memory still hurt.

  He refocused on what he wanted to say to Monica. Taking another bite of his sandwich, he typed. How’s the weather there? then deleted it. Summer in Las Vegas didn’
t offer much of a conversation starter.

  He adjusted the plastic-covered pillows and remembered how quiet the pillows on his bed in his apartment were. When was the last time he made it home? Was it three days? Damn.

  Abdul, his second in command in the E.R., was an amazing diagnostician: fearless, calm, but authoritative under pressure. Since the day Abdul was hired, the hospital board regularly encouraged Joe to walk away from the E.R. a few days a week and let Abdul take over. Maybe it was time he did. Maybe it was time he got himself a life.

  He let out a bitter laugh. The last time he tried to bring romance into his life, it was a calamity. His relationship with Tory lasted about three months, during which they had four dates and slept together twice. When he forgot to call her for a week, she left a blistering break-up message on his voicemail.

  The highlights were, “You’re married to your work, you live off the thrill of saving people, and you’re destined to be a bachelor…forever.” The women he dated before her, broke up with him nearly the same way and for similar reasons.

  He bit, chewed, and swallowed, not tasting the food. Now there was Monica. Dating a doctor wouldn’t be so bad. She’d understand his unreliable schedule, and the long-distance thing would give him the space he needed. He yawned and closed his eyes, picturing her face, those green eyes, and that creamy skin. He smiled, remembering her expensive sandals, designer dress—and pickup truck? She was a mystery.

  He woke an hour later to the sound of his phone hitting the floor as he turned onto his side. He looked down and saw the rest of his sandwich lying next to it and hated the loneliness of his life. This room was like a cell, and he was in emotional solitary confinement. But he’d imposed the sentence on himself.

  Grinding his teeth, he picked up the sandwich and threw it in the trash can then set a reminder on his phone. He would schedule himself for a weekend off and see what a couple days with Monica would do for his life.

  ****

  Antonio looked at himself in his bathroom mirror.

  He’d warned himself not to get involved with her.

  He had too much to hide to let a psychologist start digging around in his life—his insane life. He pulled his shirt off over his head.

  This afternoon, he dragged Valerie into a room and…

  He braced his hands on the countertop, felt his body respond to the reminder of her soft flesh against his fingertips. She was so damn hot. She came for him like she was created for his pleasure. Now he was involved, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How did the woman get under his skin so fast? And so deep?

  But even his intense desire for her didn’t stop his need for this secret life. He pulled open the drawer next to the sink, and his excitement built as he looked at the hair gel and temporary tattoos. They were to him what a rubber tourniquet and hypodermic needle were to a junkie. He wet his arm and pressed a Harley logo onto his bicep. Why couldn’t he shake this obsession?

  He wanted to stop, didn’t want to spend every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night dancing and taking his clothes off for hundreds of screaming women.

  He stared into the eyes reflected in the mirror. It started as a way to support himself before his writing made him a millionaire. And an easy way to meet women. Vacationers from around the world looking for one night with a stud slipped him their room keys. He gave them what they wanted, made sure the memory of that one night would last them a lifetime. But now, with Valerie on his mind, he wouldn’t pick up a woman tonight.

  He checked his cell phone again and slammed it down.

  If she had been on her way, he would have stayed, been a no-show tonight at the club.

  But she didn’t call. In the mirror, he saw anger, but it only covered his uncertainty. She may not call—maybe she came to her senses and realized what a mistake he was.

  He could call her. He picked up the phone. How could he feel more for Valerie than he allowed himself? How had she broken through his walls? He ran his hand through his hair. The unfamiliar fear of rejection had him turning his phone to silent.

  Finishing his transformation, he left the penthouse for the parking garage, left the building in an old Toyota registered under another name, and headed for the north end of The Strip. Within minutes, he pulled into the employee parking lot, entered the back door of the club, and climbed the stairs to the second floor where the men danced.

  In the locker room, he greeted his friends and changed clothes, changed names. He was now Carlos. Anticipation caused an adrenaline rush. Tonight would be as extreme as always. The one constant in his life.

  ****

  Valerie pulled into her garage and slid her sunglasses on top of her head. She probably shouldn’t have been driving, but Troy’s call had sobered her instantly. Walking into the house, she accessed her voicemail. He was coming home tomorrow and wanted to stop by.

  She returned the call, but it went right to voicemail. “Stop by any time tomorrow evening. I’ll be home after six.”

  She poured a glass of water, grabbed the mystery novel she was reading, and went out on the patio. Her favorite chaise lounge under an umbrella looked inviting.

  Settling in, she opened the book but stared off toward The Strip. Was she doing the right thing? She carried no illusions of a long-term relationship with Antonio. His lifestyle was exactly opposite hers. She was constantly in the public eye; he was a recluse.

  She’d slept with only one man in her life while Antonio had probably been with dozens of women. Dozens? Hell, hundreds.

  He lived independently, made his own path in the world. She was still trying to shake loose of her parents’ control.

  Troy would be a much safer choice for her. A husband candidate, pre-approved by her family. Antonio? They would despise him. She smiled. Wouldn’t that be fun? To see Antonio go nine rounds with her mother and sister. He always came up with a cocky answer or witty remark. He’d meet his match in the Kane women. If their relationship lasted long enough for him to meet her family.

  God, the showgirl he was with at the omelet house—he didn’t even know her last name. Was he a one-night kind of guy? Would he tire of her insisting they get to know each other before sleeping together?

  And then there was the whole blackmail issue. She still didn’t completely believe in his innocence. She bit her thumbnail. He did all that research on her, he knew she had money. Opening her book, she set her suspicions aside. One step at a time. First, she would end it with Troy. She closed her book again.

  “Damn.” How the hell was she going to do that?

  ****

  The next evening, Troy stopped by Valerie’s house. The guard shack called, announcing him at the gate, and her nerves went into jittery overdrive. She dreaded doing this. But no matter what did or didn’t happen with Antonio, she couldn’t continue her relationship with Troy.

  She opened the front door as he got out of his truck, and she met him half way up the sidewalk.

  “Darlin’, I missed you.” He grabbed her in a bear hug and swung her around.

  She laughed breathlessly. “Wow, I guess you did!”

  “I’m sorry I only called once. We were so far up in Canada, none of our cell phones worked. The one day we went into town, you didn’t answer.”

  She looked away. She didn’t answer his call because she was having sex with another man. Forcing a smile, she asked, “Catch a lot of fish?”

  He held up a plastic freezer bag with his name on it. “I brought you some fillets. I thought we could cook them up some night. You can create a new recipe for your contests.”

  She smiled sadly. Such a considerate man. Why couldn’t she feel more for him? “Come on inside. I have something to discuss with you.”

  “Uh oh, am I in trouble?”

  “No, but I’m going to be.”

  Chapter Eight

  “This doesn’t sound good.” Troy took Valerie’s hand, and they walked into the house in silence. He closed the door and looked at her; his eyes showed concern. “Ca
n I throw the fish into the freezer first?”

  “Sure. How about a beer?”

  He followed her into the kitchen. “I think I’m going to need one.” He put the fillets in the freezer and grabbed two beers out of the fridge, opened them, and handed one to her.

  She took it with a shaking hand. “Let’s sit.” They each took a barstool.

  “All right. Let me have it.” He squared his shoulders, evidently expecting the worst.

  “I really like you, Troy. You are a kind, wonderful person. I enjoy spending time with you.” She took a breath, didn’t know how to go on.

  He stared at her.

  “I just don’t think it’s fair to you…that I don’t have the same feelings for you.” She shook her head and felt a slight panic closing her throat. “Let me start this again. You mentioned you wanted to sleep with me any time I was ready. But I never found myself ready.”

  He looked hurt. “You never tried. Maybe we could go away for a weekend. Somewhere romantic. Maybe a change of scenery, get away from the stress of work.”

  “I don’t think that would make a difference, really.”

  “But you don’t know.” He let out a frustrated breath. “Crap. I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but your sister told me you’ve only been with one man.”

  She looked at him with sudden understanding then embarrassment flooded her. Damn Monica.

  He reached a hand toward her. “If you just let me show you how good it can be between us.”

  She’d have to be more blunt than she’d hoped. “It’s not just that I’m inexperienced. And it’s not that I don’t have any sexual feelings. I just don’t have them for you.”

  He blinked a few times, then narrowed his eyes. “That Italian bastard.” His fist slammed onto the countertop. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  “I have strong feelings for him, yes, but I don’t know if they will lead to anything. I just know I don’t have these same feelings for you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t want to continue a relationship under false pretenses.”

  “False pretenses? Meaning, I’ve waited for you to come around for weeks, but you want to fuck someone else?”