by Hazel Parker
“Oh my God. Dom! What are you doing here?” she called through the door.
“I’ve come to ask you to marry me.”
“What?” She screeched before opening the door again.
There he was, on one knee, though the ground hurt, waiting.
Her makeup was more than smudged, and it was clear that she had spent the better part of the last hour crying.
“You can’t do this right now; I look a mess.”
He took her left hand. “I don’t care. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Then with a deep breath, he let his heart lead. “Anna, I am sorry. I am so sorry I wasn’t man enough to tell you what I already knew. I love you. I love you so much it hurts, and I’m hoping you love me, too, even though you deserve more than what I am. I didn’t have the best childhood, and I’ve done some things I regret, but I promise you, if you let me be your husband, I will spend my life giving you everything I have. All of my love and more is yours. Please be my wife.”
“Yes,” she said through tears and a horrible hiccup. “Yes!”
He slid the ring on her finger, pleased that it fit and took her into his arms.
Eight Months Later
“I hate you,” she groaned between patterned breaths like she had learned in class.
“I know,” Dom said from her bedside. “But I love you.”
Another intense contraction passed through her, and she squeezed his hand until it passed.
“This is all your fault!”
It was his fault. Never mind it took two to tango, or the fact that she had said yes when he had asked her to marry him.
With his hand that still had blood flowing through it, he wiped her sweaty forehead with a cool rag and kissed her. “Remember when we first met? Remember when we thought my brother was the mafia?”
The doctor, who sat in between Anna’s legs checking how far she was dilated, raised an eyebrow in question. Dom chuckled but didn’t explain. It wasn’t for her to know what they were talking about. Right now, it was only to take his wife’s mind off the pain.
“Remember when you met mama and the twins? Remember when you thought we would never be together? That was the best day, wasn’t it?”
Even though she was exhausted and felt like a stuffed chicken, she nodded.
“It started off pretty bad, but it ended perfectly. You walking out of my life was the worst feeling, second to thinking my family was dead. When Luca drove away with you in the car, I realized how stupid I had been. I’d made the worst mistake of my life. Mamma knew just by looking at me that I loved you. The twins just said I was being stupid. She held my hand and told me to not make the same mistake I had made once before by letting the good things in life escape my hands like sand. Then she pulled her wedding band from her finger, even though she hadn’t taken it off in the almost twenty-five years Papa has been dead, and told me to make an honest woman out of you. And I did. Remember?”
Anna teared up just thinking about it. It had been perfect. She had been sitting at home crying and trying to convince herself not to eat the rest of her Bluebell ice cream before the pizza had been delivered, and when the doorbell rang, she had answered it, wet eyes, smeared makeup and all, thinking it was her pizza delivery. Not the man she loved on one knee ready to propose. It couldn’t have been any more awkward. She had said yes, and the rest was history. He hadn’t moved back to Italy. He had decided it wasn’t safe and built a brand new cabin beside his for his family to live in, so they could all be together. Anna spent her days using her degree by helping the family run their new business, selling Sofia’s desserts, and in between the business lessons, learning Italian from her sisters-in-law.
She, Dom, and Gelato stayed in their cabin, though Dom was already building onto it in preparation for the family he wanted to start. When Dom set his mind to something, he always got his way, and in the case of one pregnant Anna, they started working on it immediately, and it hadn’t taken long. Now, only eight months later, she was giving birth to a son who was just like his father – stubborn. He decided he was going to come when he felt like it – not when he was predicted to enter this world.
“Okay, Anna, we’re almost there. On the next contraction I need you to give me your best push, the head is crowning, he is almost out.”
So much pressure. So much pain. Anna wanted to escape her own body, but couldn’t. She took a deep breath, and even though she knew she could do it, she turned to Dom with frightened eyes. What if she couldn’t do it? As always, there was assurance, confidence in her and love in his eyes.
“You can do it, il mio fiore,” which she had come to learn meant my flower. She nodded and pushed with all she had, straining every muscle in her body, and then she heard it, the smallest of cries, and she forgot all the pain she was in. All she could focus on was the tiny bundle the doctor put on her belly.
“It’s a boy.”
He had ten fingers, ten toes, and a small tuft of black hair on his head.
“He’s so quiet,” she whispered, not sure she wanted to know why he was already not crying.
“That’s okay,” the doctor assured her as they took him to clean, weigh and swaddle him. “Some babies scream, others need a good spanking before they make any noise” he said with a wink.
So he was as mysterious and slow to speak as his father. Figures. She did all the work for almost nine months, and already he was just like his father.
She took his swaddled body in her arms and smiled. She couldn’t be mad; he was still perfect.
“Have you thought of a name,” the nurse asked, ready to write his name on the birth card.
She and Dom nodded, unable to take their eyes off the tiny miracle.
“Daniel, after my father, Antonio, after his father, Costa.”
“That’s a great name,” she said, writing it down with his birth weight and length.
“Daniel Antonio,” she whispered to the sleeping baby. “Momma loves you.” Dom kissed her on the forehead, and she leaned into his warmth. “Your daddy loves you, too.”
THE END
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Abby Walker nervously wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Once again, she tried to remind herself that she had no reason to be nervous. She had a plan, she could put it into action, she could carry it out.
She was settled now in the front row at one of the largest fashion houses in New York, waiting for their latest fashion show to start up. She looked stunning in her low cut, short black dress and six-inch Jimmy Choos. Abby loved fashion. She’d grown up with it, and the models that went through it, her entire life.
Abby’s father, Ed Walker, had co-created the most successful modeling agency in New York City. While Abby was pretty enough to be in the industry herself, her father had gone out of his way to protect her. Ed Walker did not want her to see the ugliness that could come with both the modeling and underside of the business enterprise. That had not stopped Abby from ending up at parties, or corporate events. That was where she had met the man who was currently seated on the other side of the runway from her—Mitchell Fields.
Mitchell Fields had been her father’s business partner her entire life. Mitchell was twice her age, but he was gorgeous. She’d developed a crush on him early and it had been with her ever since. Not that Mitchell had ever noticed. She’d always been nothing but Ed’s Little Girl to him. But today, Abby had a feeling that was going to change.
Abby had not seen Mitchell in several years. She’d graduated high school and gone off to college, coming home only on the occasional holiday break and never for a full summer. Now that graduation was over, she had just returned to New York after finishing at Yale. Her degree was just as impressive as
her looks. She was twenty-three now, and had grown up in all of the right ways. Abby’s long blonde hair, huge green eyes and killer figure had gotten her the attention of all of the Ivy League boys. Despite that, she was still a virgin. She was holding out for just the right man… and today she was going to have him.
She was not a little girl anymore, and today Mitchell Fields would see that. Abby was going to seduce him if it was the last thing that she did. Studying him, she realized that he looked even better than he had in the past. She had chosen her outfit with the intent of proving to him that she was no child. She had gone through every modeling tip and technique on makeup that she had learned over the years. Expensive foundations and brighteners accented her flawless skin. Her eyes were rimmed in black liner and mascara. She had topped off the look with bright red lipstick. She looked hot-and Mitchell was going to notice.
The house lights dropped. Abby smiled as her eyes focused across the runway on Mitchell. Her tongue traced across her lips once more while she crossed one long leg over the other. Her Yale roommate and best friend Maria had dared her to seduce the man she had been lusting over all these years. Abby suspected that Maria might have been growing weary with hearing about Mitchell. As long as Abby had known Maria, she had her crush on Mitchell. Maria had sat through countless nights of Abby googling recent pictures of Mitchell or just declaring how gorgeous he was. So when the other girl had offered out the challenge, she could not really blame her. After all, the other girl who had watched Abby walk away from countless men her own age over the years. So when the dare had come out of Maria’s mouth, Abby had thought it was as much a challenge to make her stop talking as much as it was one to see if she could do it. Abby had accepted immediately.
Abby smiled at the memory, just as Mitchell happened to turn. He looked across the runway at her. Their eyes met. She gave him a sly smile. She watched as Mitchell’s eyes roamed over her. Abby held back a grin. The look on Mitchell’s face said it all. He wanted her already. This was going to be no trouble at all. Abby licked her lips again. Maybe she did have a reason to be nervous after all.
*****
Mitchell Fields took a deep breath, trying to hide his arousal. Who the hell was the girl in the front row? He knew that he had never seen her here before—he certainly would have remembered. She was gorgeous, and she would not stop staring at him. Mitchell was not doing much better himself. He could barely take his eyes off of her to concentrate on the girls on the runway.
Mitchell was used to beautiful women hanging on him. He was forty, but he enjoyed his bachelor lifestyle. He had never really seen himself as the settle down type. Therefore, he had every intention of sticking to his world of drinks and hot sex with gorgeous models.
Getting older had done nothing to his looks. Mitchell still looked fabulous. His black hair had a few streaks of distinguishing gray in it. He himself kept to a strict workout routine and diet. It paid off. Models were always after him. Actually, all women were always lusting after him.
The fashion show ended not a moment too soon. Mitchell got up from his seat. He was a bit ashamed to admit that he had not paid as much attention as he probably should. He was too distracted by the hot blonde seated across from him. He hoped that she was on her way over to the after show party. He needed to find her—immediately if not sooner.
There was always an after show party filled with drinks and bands. It was a good way to network, give feedback, or simply hype up publicity with the press. Of course, it was also where some of the darker aspects of the modeling business began to form. That always happened.
He entered the large room that was already filling up with beautiful women and well-dressed men. He knew that most of the men in the room did not have the best of intentions where the women lay. That was the problem with modeling. Women too quickly became objects that symbolized only one thing. While he did not care much to think about it, it was something that he had to admit he was guilty of from time to time.
He laid eyes on his mystery woman near the bar. She was sipping on a glass of red wine. Mitchell smiled. He began making his way through the crowd. It took him a few moments. He kept getting stopped by both men and women alike. Everyone wanted his attention. While most of the men wanted to talk business or compliment him on the company’s successes, the women were batting their eyes in ways that Mitchell knew. Apparently his reputation preceded him.
“Did you enjoy the show?” He finally reached the mystery woman’s side. He leaned against the bar beside her, ordering himself a gin and tonic. The girl turned to him. Her eyes were bright green. Her lips were a beautiful shade of bright crimson. Mitchell felt the lust well up in him immediately. He could already imagine what those lips could do to him.
“Couldn’t take my eyes off of it.” The girl put her wine glass on the bar. “It was everything I wanted.” Mitchell chuckled.
“I don’t believe that we’ve met. I’m Mitchell Fields.” He offered her a hand.
“It’s my pleasure.” She shook his hand firmly.
“And you are-?” Mitchell pressed gently. He was curious just who she could be. He had never seen her here before, after all.
“A fashion lover who is thrilled to meet the brilliant mind behind this empire.” She leaned against the bar beside him as her fingers wrapped around her wine glass once more.
“Flattery will get you everything.” Mitchell looked the girl over. His eyes immediately landed on her chest. She had quite the figure-that was for sure. “Have we met before?”
“Oh, we may have run into each other a time or two, but it was nothing formal.” She was quite casual about it. “Regardless, I have always been a fan of yours, Mr. Fields.”
“Oh have you?” Mitchell took a quick sip of his drink. He set the glass on the bar. “And please, call me Mitchell.”
“Well of course… Mitchell.” His name rolled so smoothly off of those beautiful red lips. Mitchell could barely contain himself.
“So are you a model yourself?” The girl laughed.
“Not hardly.” She took a step closer to him. Mitchell shook his head solemnly.
“Such a shame. A beautiful girl like you? You could be any modeling agent’s dream.” The girl laughed once more. It was delicate, musical. Mitchell could not believe his level of interest in this incredible woman whom he had just met.
“Well, you are quite the flatterer.” She shook her long blonde hair. Mitchell picked up the faint aroma of shampoo and expensive perfume.
“I’ve been in this business for a few years.” Mitchell sipped his drink once more. “I’ve got an eye for beautiful women.”
“I’m certain that you do.” The girl’s bright red lips formed a coy smile. “Men like you are brilliant.”
“Well, I’m not the only one who is good with flattery.”
“I can’t help myself.” She took a step closer to him. “There’s just something about a man in power that has always… turned me on.”
Mitchell smiled. So she was certainly interested. That was a good thing. He wanted to see what was under that skimpy little dress that she was wearing.
“It’s certainly a shame that you never went into modeling.” Mitchell took his own step closer to her. “The runway would have loved you.”
“Thank you.” His mystery woman took another step closer. It made the scent of her intoxicating perfume stronger. When he moved his arm to rest on the bar, he brushed against her breasts. She did not pull away. In fact, she looked even more interested.
“What can I tell you?” Mitchell pressed his arm more firmly against her breast. “I know a body the camera would love.”
He watched her press her tongue against her front teeth. He found it incredibly sexy. He moved his arm slightly so that he could stroke his fingers against the side of her breast.
“Actually,” he murmured, “I know a body that anyone would love.”
“Oh, I know that you do.” The woman let her hand fall to rest on his upper arm. “I know all about y
our talent, Mr. Fields. There’s no one that I’d… trust… more.”
Mitchell shook his head. He met his share of beautiful women at these events, and he had many of them play up to him, but this one seemed to have a particular determination. He did not really understand it—or why she was not offering her name. But he was not about to turn her down.
“If you ever do want to get into the business,” he met her eyes, “you just let me know. I’ll make sure to find you the right connections.”
The woman laughed flirtatiously. It was a beautiful sound, and the action made her brilliant green eyes light up. She was playing this game like a champion—and she was clearly in it to win it.
“Well, maybe if you were really interested, I could find some time to give you a private performance.”
Ah, there it was. It was exactly as he had thought. He felt the immediate stirrings of arousal. He was certainly not going to turn this one down.
“Why don’t we do just that?”
BONUS MATERIAL
In Deep: Love Struck
Chapter One
Evan
Just a typical day. That’s what today was, or at least what I thought it was. That's what I got for thinking that, because seeing the woman I kissed in the arms of my twin brother was enough to pop that stupid, little bubble in my head. Typical day my ass.
I saw it all in slow motion. His hand possessively gripping her hip. Her thick body aching to burst out of the tight dress, like she just came from the club. I can't help wonder if she dressed like that for me. Her eyes wide, I couldn’t tell if she looked confused, scared, guilty, or a little of all three. The smug look on his face—my face—made me wonder whether he knew she was mine, or if he just always looked like that when he thought he was about to score. I couldn’t remember.
We shared every, damn thing—a name, family, friends… hell, this club even. But not women. Women were supposed to be out of bounds. They always were, since Irene in the 7th grade dated Ethan first, broke his heart, and sent me a note with hearts on it. I wonder briefly if he somehow thought I’d changed my mind towards this after all this time, but I couldn’t think straight because I couldn't see anything else but his hand on her hip. I could feel the blood boiling under my skin and my hands curling into fists.