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

by Laura Breck

  “Do you live close?” Antonio asked.

  Dena shook her head. “We live on the exact opposite side of the valley, in Seven Hills.”

  Antonio had heard of the prestigious neighborhood but had never been there.

  Scott helped his wife to her feet. “We’ll have the two of you out for dinner.”

  Antonio saw a look pass between Dena and Scott, but smiled. “I’d like that.”

  They walked to the foyer and said goodbye. Valerie closed the door and leaned against it. “Thank you for putting up with them.”

  He set his hands on the door on each side of her head. “They are great people, Valerie. They’re being protective, and I don’t blame them.”

  “So you admit to being bad for me?”

  “I don’t think I should answer that.”

  “Probably not.” She kissed him. “Do you have to get going?”

  “There’s nowhere I need to be.”

  “Good. How about a dip in the pool?”

  “You in a swim suit? Just try to get rid of me.”

  “Come on, I have a few men’s suits you can try on.”

  “I actually have trunks in the car. I’ll get them.”

  “Hmmm. You were planning ahead?”

  “Guilty. I hoped we’d have some time together.”

  “What else did you bring with you? Wait. Let me guess. A toothbrush and a box of condoms?”

  She’d guessed right. He nodded. “And a clean pair of underwear.”

  “Oh, of course.” She laughed. “May I suggest you bring in only the swim trunks? That way you won’t expect more tonight than I’m willing to give.”

  “Anything you say.” He kissed her. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m going to run upstairs and change.”

  “I’ll open the wine.”

  She climbed the stairs, and he imagined walking beside her up to the bedroom. Sexy. He’d need a cold shower to make it through the rest of the evening without seducing her.

  He jogged out to his car, came back in, and changed into his trunks. He grabbed the bottle of wine from the kitchen and carried it and two glasses outside to the bar. The sun had set already, but the thermometer still read ninety-nine degrees. He let the wine breathe and sat on a cushioned chaise lounge and gazed at the city, the lights shimmering in the heat. He spotted his building. Only about ten miles away. How powerful a telescope would he need to be able to see all the way from his penthouse to her bedroom? He shook his head, needing to get that bad thought out of his mind.

  He heard her behind him speaking in a hushed tone as the sound of her flip-flops smacked toward him. She stopped next to him and bent down. “It’s a patient.” She whispered in Antonio’s ear. “This will only take a minute.”

  He turned to look at her. She held a cell phone to her ear. His gaze drifted lower and he jolted at the outrageous view of her breasts in a white bikini top. He could only nod and stare as his mouth watered. She stood and walked in front of him toward the railing overlooking the drop-off.

  None of his fantasies of Valerie included a body this incredible. Her tiny black bikini bottom clung to her temptingly round butt. She stood in profile, those magnificent breasts showcased by the lights of The Strip. Then she turned to face the city. Her narrow waist, her full, sexy hips, legs that were beyond perfection, long and graceful. He needed to touch them. Now.

  He stood and looked down to see himself rock hard again—his constant situation around her. Walking up behind her, he didn’t touch her but put his hands on each side of her on the railing, white-knuckling it to keep from grabbing her.

  She continued to talk to her patient, and he heard a shrill feminine voice responding through the phone. Valerie reminded the woman how to handle the crowds, how to imagine herself in a bubble. He didn’t care about privacy, he just wanted to be close to her. She put her hand on his forearm. Turning toward him, she ran her fingers up his arm, traced his bicep then his shoulder. She spoke into the phone, but as her gaze dropped to his chest. She bit her lip and blinked rapidly then she looked lower. Spotting his erection tenting his trunks, her eyes opened wide.

  She smiled, looked into his eyes then put her fingertips on his breastbone and pushed gently. He took her meaning and smiled seductively. Was she changing her mind about their planned activities for the evening? He let go of the railing and took a step back. Speaking to her patient, Valerie stepped forward and pushed him back with her fingers.

  “You’re doing fantastic,” she coached into the phone. “Call me if anything else comes up or if you’d just like to talk.” She ended the call and smiled at him. “Antonio, this is for your own good.”

  He glanced behind him. She’d backed him right to the edge of the pool.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Would she? She was teasing, right?

  She put her hand flat on his chest and shoved.

  If she hadn’t been clutching her phone, he would have grabbed her and pulled her with him, but he let himself fall backward toward the water. He hit the surface hard and stayed under a few seconds, enjoying the perfect temperature. He surfaced and laughed, treading water. “You know when I catch you I’m going to throw you in.”

  She set her phone on the bar and toed off her flip-flops. “No need to trouble yourself.” Running toward the pool, she did a perfect cannonball a yard from him, completely swamping him.

  She came up laughing.

  He wiped his eyes. “You’re a brat. You don’t even know if I can swim.”

  “You told stories of your family swimming in the ocean. I figured you’d be okay in my safe little pool.” She swam to him. “And if you weren’t, I’d get a thrill out of giving you mouth to mouth.”

  He grabbed her, pressed his lips to hers, and they went under, her body tight against his. With his hands on her ass, he pulled her bottom against him, letting her feel his erection, the need that even a dunking in the pool didn’t ease. She wrapped her legs around him, and he almost snapped. He put his hand on the back clasp of her top, but she shook her head “no” against his lips and pushed off him to the surface.

  He came up next to her, gasping for air, his overwhelming arousal making him weak. “Tease.”

  “Horny bastard.” She splashed him and swam to the drop-off.

  He followed. “Constantly horny around you.”

  When she stood, the water reached her neck.

  He got his footing next to her, not daring to touch her for fear he’d be unable to control the urge to strip her bare and make love to her.

  “You have an amazing body, Antonio. I didn’t realize.”

  The waterline splashed at the level of his pecs, and she reached a hand to touch him. She slowly drew her fingers over his chest muscles, down his abdomen then ran her hand up and down the muscles. “Six-pack abs. Wow. You do work out.” Both hands ran up his chest to his shoulders then down to his biceps. “Flex,” she ordered, and he did. “Yummy. A hard man is good to find.”

  When she looked into his eyes, he sensed she could see his barely controlled passion. “Valerie, you need to stop, or I won’t be able to.”

  “Sorry.” She removed her hands from him. “I didn’t mean to tease you.”

  “Hm.” His need to have her became physically painful. If he stood there watching her any longer, he’d grab her and… Drawing in a deep breath he dove under the water, down as far as he could in the deep end, and he stayed down until his lungs ached, then he shot up.

  She stood drying herself by the bar then put on a cover-up, thank God. After pouring the wine, she carried the glasses to the edge of the pool, and sat on her heels.

  “Do you want your wine in there or out here?”

  “I’ll get out. Do you have a towel I can use?”

  “Sure. Barbie or Cinderella?”

  “No GI Joe?”

  “I might have something macho.” She stood and put their wine glasses on a table between the chaise lounges and went into the small changing room.

  As he
got out of the pool, she tossed him a Baywatch towel.

  “Where do you get these?”

  She dried her legs with an M&M towel. “I started picking them up when I moved in last year, and now everyone brings me the craziest ones they can find.”

  He dried himself and sat on a lounge chair. Watching her sip her wine, he ran the towel over his hair. “So, what does it mean, in psychologist terms, that you collect crazy towels?”

  She wrinkled her brow. “Gosh, I don’t know. I never thought about it, but I’ll ask my therapist tomorrow.”

  He hadn’t expected that. “You have a therapist?”

  “Yes, I do.” She cleared her throat. “This wine is amazing! You have excellent taste.” Was she changing the subject?

  He hesitated, unsure that he wanted to bring up therapy after what had happened that night on the motorcycle. It had to be discussed sooner or later, so may as well dive in. “How long have you been seeing a therapist?”

  She set her wine glass down and looked into his eyes. “Okay. Serious conversation time. I started seeing him after the incident at Caesar’s Palace, at the gala.”

  “I remember, but what happened to make you feel you needed a shrink?”

  “You sound like my dad, calling me a shrink.”

  “Avoiding the question?”

  “No, I’d like to talk about it.” She shifted, put her head back on the chaise, and looked up at the sky. “I felt out of control that night. I had feelings for you, but I was with another man. And I had no feelings for Troy except friendship. Which made it kind of creepy when he kissed me.” She shuddered.

  He laughed. “And that’s why you never slept with him?”

  “Yes, mainly. I’m not usually the type who jumps into bed with a man on the first date.” She looked at him, and a blush colored her cheeks.

  “Usually. I’m the exception?”

  “Yes. Which unsettled me. I called a friend in the business, and he agreed to see me professionally.”

  “I hate the thought of my insanity making you need a therapist.” He ran his hand through his hair, and she watched the gesture.

  She smiled. “Sometimes we just need a professional to listen to us, to point out the things we don’t see ourselves. He’s the one who asked me why I was still seeing Troy.”

  “So you made a decision.”

  “Yes. I made the right choice.” She looked at him. “Not the easiest guy to be with, but you’re getting better.”

  “Valerie, I want you to know I took your advice, and I’m seeing the therapist you suggested.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?” Antonio didn’t like the sound of that.

  “He called me after your first session.”

  That made him even more uneasy. He swirled the wine in his glass. “Why?”

  “You gave him my name as the referring doctor. He called to ask about you, but I told him it was a referral based on your request, not on my observations. You didn’t have to give him my name, you know.”

  He shrugged. “I thought maybe you would get points or something.”

  She laughed. “Like a gift certificate to Olives with three referrals?” She smiled. “I’m glad you decided to talk to someone. The truth is…” She picked up her wine glass. “…I wouldn’t have let you back into my home if I didn’t know for sure you were in therapy.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Heaviness settled in his chest. “I’ve been a real jerk.”

  “No. You’re just intense, you feel things fiercely. You need to learn how to reign in the emotions before you open your mouth and make an ass out of yourself.” Her eyes sparkled bright blue, her full lips curled into a smirk.

  She was perfect. Serious, teasing, flirty. She had it all. His heart did a double time, and he let himself admit, right then, he didn’t want to spend another day without her.

  She sat up, put her wine glass down, and held out her hand. “Antonio, I’m sorry, I was just teasing.” She must have misinterpreted the serious look in his eyes as anger.

  He sat up and took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. “The way I see it, I have two possible responses to your uncharacteristically rude comment.” He winked at her. “The first, which I would prefer, is to seduce you, carry you up to your bedroom, and make love to you all night.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Valerie drew in a loud breath, and Antonio felt her hand tense in his.

  He shook his head. “Unfortunately, the second—is what I’m going to do right now.” He stood, leaned over her, and in one motion picked her up in his arms. “You’re going to get wet.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Laughter coated her words.

  He walked to the edge of the pool and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “No, please.” She used a drama voice. “I’ll do anything!”

  “Tempting.” And she was. Nearly unbearably so. The way he held her, his hand touched the side of her breast, his other hand pressed against the soft skin on the back of her knee. She clung to his neck, pressing her breast firmly against his chest, sending bolts of pleasure down his body.

  “All I want from you…” He kissed her gently. “Is a big splash.”

  “All right.” She let go of his neck and placed the back of one hand on her forehead, feigning the dramatic heroine. “If it makes you feel better, throw me in.”

  “Oh, it will.” He tossed her into the pool in her cover-up, flip-flops, and towel.

  She came up sputtering and laughing. “I didn’t think you’d do it!” She grabbed a floating flip-flop and threw it at him, followed by the other one.

  He caught them then sat on his heels. She swam to the edge of the pool and handed him the soaked towel.

  Crossing her arms on the pool’s edge, she looked up at him. “You surprise me.”

  “I have a lot more surprises for you, bella. Later. Right now, I’m going to leave. Thanks for a great evening.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for the wine.”

  “Can I see you Sunday?”

  “Sure. Stop by for dinner?”

  “I’ll be here. Ciao.”

  “Ciao, bello.”

  He grabbed his clothes and sandals and left. Racing his car through the streets of Vegas, he beat himself up. Why didn’t he want to see her Friday or Saturday? Why was he still so addicted to his life as Carlos? He’d told the therapist everything, every detail: the secrecy, the dancing, the money, the women.

  The man just took copious notes and asked a few questions but gave him no advice on how to stop. He said he wanted to think about it, and, when they met next week, they’d work through it.

  Antonio put it out of his mind as he felt the hot breeze through his wet hair. He burped, tasting Valerie’s outstanding cooking. It had been good to meet her father. But her mother? She’d be a challenge. Antonio didn’t know her brother, but he seemed like a good guy. Valerie talked about a sister, and he hoped she had Valerie’s sweet personality not Dena’s invasive protectiveness.

  But with his luck…

  ****

  Monica struggled with her own problems. It was Friday afternoon, and Joe hadn’t responded to the text message she’d sent him Monday. She guessed it was over. After eating three pounds of prime steak and drinking a bottle of wine that night, even after a week of salads, she felt like she’d gained ten pounds.

  Her last patient of the day was a consultation on facial surgery. She was running late and asked her nurse to sit him in her office with a couple brochures on surgical options.

  She entered her office through the clinic door and stopped dead when she saw him. Her eyebrow lifted, and she looked at the patient file her nurse had given her. “Mr. Olfart? Clever.”

  Joe Pappa smiled. “Mr. P.—as in Pinhead—Olfart.” He stood and walked over to her. “Monica, I want to apologize for Monday.”

  She moved behind her desk before he reached her. “I understand that your job comes first.” She blinked. How whiny had that sounded?


  He walked around behind her desk.

  She stood her ground.

  Joe stopped right in front of her. “No. It did come first. For a lot of years, it was my life. But I can’t live like that anymore. I need more.” He reached out and touched her arm. “Forgive me for running you over while I drove myself to the edge.” His eyes seemed sincere.

  “It felt like you were driving a semi.”

  He nodded once. “I know. I’m an insensitive rat. Will you give me another chance?”

  She turned and walked away, not wanting to be influenced by his sexy eyes, his seductive scent. “Long distance relationships, Joe. They don’t work.”

  “I’m not asking you to decide right now. Let me spend a few days with you. Then give me your answer.”

  She turned and looked at him. “A few days? You’re staying in Vegas for the weekend?”

  “No, we’re going to Temecula.” He smiled, pulled a brochure from his pocket, and held it out. “I have a friend who has a house up there—he’s working this weekend, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

  Stepping closer to see the brochure, she stayed a few feet from him. For her heart’s safety. Wineries, restaurants, shops. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “A two-bedroom house?”

  He put his hand over his heart, and pulled a comical face. “I’m offended that you’d think I’d try to—”

  She touched her fingers to his lips. “I hope you will try.” Monica meant it. She wanted everything from him, and if he talked seriously about changing for her, she’d let herself enjoy every minute with him.

  He kissed her fingers then slanted his lips over hers. His tongue caressed hers, coaxed her to kiss him. She ran her tongue on his teeth then he deepened the kiss, bent her backward over his arm, and melted away any residual anger, any doubts about his intentions.

  When he took his lips from hers, he kept her close. “Will you come away with me?”

  She could barely open her eyes. Heavens, he could kiss. “Anywhere you want to take me.”

  ****

  Sunday afternoon, Valerie stood in the kitchen flipping through cookbooks and trying to decide what to make for Antonio. She came across a recipe for Walleye. Would it be tacky to use the fish fillets Troy left her? Yes, definitely tacky.