Seduced by the Playboy

by Pamela Yaye

  For the past three weeks, he’d spent all of his free time with Angela, and when they were apart, she was all he could think of. It wasn’t until meeting Angela that he realized how empty his life was. For years, he’d stumbled through life, searching for its meaning, its purpose. He loved playing baseball, had a great family and legions of loyal fans around the world, but he’d always longed for more. He had craved something deeper than just fame and fortune. Demetri wanted someone to share his life with, someone he could trust, and one warm, fateful day he’d found her.

  Angela’s love had changed him, restored his faith in people. Angela loved to socialize, found beauty in the smallest things in life and always had a smile. Nothing got her down—not her critics, not her hypercritical producers, not even the sexist male crew she worked with. Open-minded and always up for a good time, she thrived on trying new things and living in the moment. Demetri admired the way she carried herself and her zest for life. Being with Angela reminded him of the time—before fame and fortune came calling—when he was a fun, outgoing guy who didn’t have a care in the world.

  “That’s the best damn penne I’ve ever had,” Todd announced, leaning back into his chair and patting his stomach. “Thanks, Demetri. I owe you one.”

  Demetri snapped out of his thoughts and nodded at his agent.

  “We’ve hit a roadblock in our plans for the Fourth of July extravaganza,” Nichola announced, plopping down in the chair beside him. “I met with Claudia Jeffries-Medina and the director of the recreation center yesterday, and she shot down all of our ideas. We told her the Fourth of July extravaganza is for underprivileged kids, but she didn’t seem to care.”

  “That’s a bummer.” Lloyd tossed his files into his briefcase, locked it and rested it on the floor. “You win some, you lose some, I guess.”

  “You can say that again. It’s been one setback after another, and I’m starting to think we should postpone the event.”

  “How many families were you planning to invite?”

  “This has been a major bone of contention,” Nichola explained, combing a hand through her hair. “I wanted to make this a huge, over-the-top bash, but the hall can only accommodate two hundred people, and the director is dead set against having tents on the property.”

  Demetri raised an eyebrow. “Two hundred people? That’s it? No offense, Nichola, but that doesn’t sound like much of a party to me.”

  “Find somewhere else to have the fundraiser,” Lloyd suggested, taking off his eyeglasses and cleaning them with his white silk handkerchief. “There are plenty of recreation centers in and around the Chicago area that can accommodate larger numbers.”

  Nichola sighed. “It’s too late to find another venue. The fundraiser is only weeks away.”

  “Then we’ll have it here.”

  His team exchanged quizzical looks.

  “Here where?” Todd asked, his lean, tanned face screwed up into a frown.

  “Here at the estate.”

  Eyes popped, jaws dropped, and foreheads wrinkled.

  “No way.” Lloyd gave an adamant shake of his head. “It’s too risky.”

  “I agree. These kids come from bad, crime-ridden neighborhoods, and—”

  Demetri drained his wineglass and put it on the side table. “Todd, relax. Everything will be fine. If something breaks, it can always be replaced.”

  “I’m not worried about something breaking,” he mumbled. “I’m worried about those badass kids robbing you blind!”

  “Having the Fourth of July extravaganza here is a wonderful idea. Imagine all the great press we’ll get!” Clapping her hands together, Nichola whooped for joy. “And as long as the weather cooperates, we can set up everything outside.”

  A sly grin fell across Todd’s mouth. “I like your way of thinking. Keep the runts and their thieving parents far, far away from the house.”

  Demetri glared at his agent but spoke warmly to his publicist. “Nichola, you’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Her eyes lit up. “You don’t have to thank me. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

  “I know, but still. Just wanted you to know I appreciate all of your hard work.” Resting the remote control on the ottoman, he swiped up his cell phone and stood. “I’m going upstairs. Feel free to eat and drink as much as you want.”

  “Where are you rushing off to?” Nichola asked, crossing her legs. “I thought we were staying in and watching old Al Pacino movies on TV.”

  “Can’t. I’m taking Angela to Jazz Fest.”

  Lloyd scratched his head. “Jazz Fest? All the way up in Freeport? But you hate crowds.”

  “And road trips!” Nichola added.

  “Yeah, but Angela is a huge Wynton Marsalis fan, and he’s performing there tonight.”

  Todd pointed a finger at Demetri. “Have fun, but make sure your security guards take all the necessary precautions to keep you guys safe.”

  “I gave the guards the night off. I want to be alone with Angela.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lloyd questioned, straightening in his chair. “I know you’ll be wearing a disguise, but if someone recognizes you, all hell could break loose.”

  “No disguise tonight. I need to look fly as hell when I’m out with Angela. She’s gorgeous and I don’t want to look like a scrub beside her!”

  The guys chuckled, agreeing fervently.

  “I almost forgot,” Nichola said, her tone apologetic. “I told the Kids Awards you’re not interested in being a presenter, but do you want—”

  “I wish you would have spoken to me first before refusing the invitation.”

  “Why? Every year they invite you, and every year you turn them down.”

  “I know,” Demetri said, “but this year I’d like to go. It might be fun.”

  Three sets of eyes stared incredulously at him.

  Todd picked up his empty wineglass and sniffed it. “Someone must have drugged your Veneto, because you’re talking crazy.”

  “One last thing before we wrap up,” Lloyd said, sliding off his barstool. “My wife wants to know what time to expect you guys on Memorial Day. After last year’s debacle, she decided to have invitations made and wants to have a general consensus before having them printed.”

  “Tell Trudy I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it.”

  “Why not? You always spend Memorial Day with us.”

  “I’m taking Angela to Venice for the weekend,” he explained, wearing a proud smile. “We’re taking the Morretti family jet, and I’ve already booked the Ruzzini Palace, a driver and an English-speaking tour guide to show us all of the sights.”

  Nichola’s face crumpled. “You’re taking her to Italy for the weekend? That’s insane! And ridiculously expensive!”

  “Angela’s worth it. She means a lot to me and...” Demetri broke off speaking, stopping himself from gushing like a love-struck teenager. Morretti men didn’t sweat females, and if his brothers ever found out he was head over heels for Angela—the woman who’d dissed him on national television—they’d tease him mercilessly. “These last few months with Angela have been incredible, and it’s about time I wined her and dined her. Venice is one of the most romantic cities in the world, and I plan to make it a weekend she’ll never forget.”

  “Wow, you’re going all out.” Todd whistled loudly.

  “If you guys move any faster, you’ll be married by Christmas!”

  I’d like nothing more. The thought gave Demetri pause. Not because getting married after a three-month-long courtship was crazy, but because he’d never considered proposing to anyone before. But from the moment he first laid eyes on Angela, he knew deep down that she was as exquisite as a white diamond. And everything she’d said and done since their first date made him love and re
spect her even more. He liked having Angela right by his side, and the thought of spending the rest of his life with her didn’t scare him; it filled him with pride.

  “You know she’s only using you to boost the ratings of her stupid show, right?” Nichola snorted. “I know her type. She’ll do anything to stay on top.”

  “She isn’t using me, Nichola—”

  “Yes, she is! Open your eyes!” His publicist sounded worried, as if she was on the verge of tears. “Angela’s dated dozens of pro athletes, and once you do her show, she’ll dump you and move on to the next star. That’s how she is. That’s how she operates.”

  Demetri tried to remain calm, tried to act as though her words didn’t faze him, but they did. They stung, burned like hell. His biggest fear was that Angela would leave him for someone else or that she’d choose fame and stardom over him. Nichola’s comments just fueled his doubts.

  “Women like Angela Kelly only look out for themselves,” Nichola continued, her tone ice-cold. “She isn’t going to stick around for the long haul, and she definitely isn’t wife material.”

  “I disagree.” Todd tore his gaze away from the TV screen and addressed Demetri. “I like her. She’s smart and talented and not afraid to speak her mind. She’ll tell you the truth, not just what you want to hear, and that speaks volumes about her character. Angela’s definitely the type of woman you need in your—”

  “Todd, what do you know?” Nichola spat, cutting him off. “You’re hardly an expert when it comes to love and relationships. You’ve been married three times, and your last girlfriend dumped you for a gardener!”

  He coughed and then scratched at his crooked nose. “Whatever. I might be unlucky in love, but I know a good woman when I see one. And Angela Kelly is one of the great ones.”

  “Thanks, man. I feel the same way. That’s why I want Angela to meet my parents.”

  “Your parents!” his team shouted.

  “What do you even know about her?” Nichola asked, now pacing the length of the game room. “I mean, besides the fact that she’s on TV and that she’s a good lay?”

  “Don’t,” Demetri warned, his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed. “Angela’s special to me, and I won’t let you or anyone else disrespect her.”

  A crooked smile crossed Nichola’s face, one that darkened the shade of her eyes. “I know your parents and your family really well, Demetri. They’re not going to like her.”

  “I think they will. Angela makes me happy, and that’s all that matters.”

  “I thought you wanted to settle down, get married and have a bunch of kids?”

  “I do, Lloyd. That hasn’t changed.”

  “And Angela’s down for that?” Todd asked, a quizzical expression on his face. “I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I don’t see her swapping red-carpet events for breast-feeding and changing diapers.”

  “Maybe not right now, but in time she’ll come around.”

  Nichola touched his forearm lightly. “Demetri, she’s going to hurt you. I just know it. She reminds me a lot of Shai, and...”

  Demetri felt his body stiffen and all the muscles in his neck tense. He didn’t want to think about his ex. The woman who had chosen fame and stardom over him. Whenever he heard one of her chart-topping pop songs on the radio, he wondered what could have been. Or at least he used to. Ever since meeting Angela, he’d forgotten about every other girl. Finally, after years of being lied to, used and deceived, he’d met a woman who thrilled him and completed him in every way.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I had no idea you had company.”

  At the sound of Angela’s voice, Demetri cranked his head to the right. There, standing beside the French doors, was the woman who made his heart sing. Her knee-length leopard-print dress, which clung to her curves, looked amazing on her. And her sky-high heels showed off her long, toned legs.

  Three long, quick strides and Demetri had Angela in his arms. “Baby, you hit it out of the ballpark tonight,” he praised, looking her up and down. “I might have to bring my security detail with us to Freeport after all.”

  “You need to come down to my set more often,” she quipped. “You’re great for my ego!”

  “Well, you’re great for me, period.” Unable to resist, Demetri crushed his lips against her soft, luscious mouth. Caressing her cheek, he kissed her thoroughly as if he had all the time in the world. Her perfume filled his nostrils with its rich fragrance and aroused his hunger and desire for her.

  “Baby, your team’s staring at us,” she whispered, breaking off the kiss and smiling sheepishly. “And your publicist looks pissed. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.”

  “Never mind her,” Demetri said, stealing another quick kiss. “Her favorite contestant got voted off The Song last night and she’s been in a funk ever since!”

  Angela giggled.

  They strolled across the room with their fingers intertwined.

  “Hi, I’m Angela. It’s great to meet you both.”

  Todd and Lloyd scrambled to their feet and almost tripped over each other in their haste to reach her first. After shaking hands and enjoying a few minutes of conversation with the guys, Angela waved at Nichola.

  “It’s good to see you,” Angela said brightly. “How are things going?”

  Nichola didn’t smile or wave back. Instead she stood staring at them intently. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms were crossed, and she tapped her heeled foot impatiently on the floor. Demetri didn’t know what her problem was, but he intended to find out. But before he could speak, Nichola said, “Angela, you’re here, again—how nice.”

  Demetri shot Nichola a what-the-hell look, and she turned away.

  “I’m out of here. See you guys later.”

  Within seconds, she packed up her things, grabbed her lightweight red coat and left. Demetri was relieved to see her go, but when Lloyd and Todd made themselves at home on the couch and started asking Angela dozens of questions, his good mood fizzled. At this rate, they’d never leave! He tried to catch Todd’s attention, but his agent was too busy making googly eyes at Angela. And Lloyd was no better. The happily married father of three had flushed cheeks, and every time he opened his mouth, he tripped over his words. Demetri had never seen him smile so wide or heard him laugh so loud.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, guys, but it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Go shower and change. We’ll keep Angela company while you’re gone.”

  “Yeah,” Todd agreed, eagerly nodding his head. “I want to hear all about her show.”

  “I got an idea.” Demetri grabbed the leather briefcases beside the bar and shoved one into each of their hands and then gestured to the door. “Why don’t you guys go home to your kids and significant others? Bet they’re dying to see you.”

  Their faces fell and their shoulders slumped.

  “Come on,” Lloyd whined. “Angela was just about to tell us which Oscar-winning actor has a secret foot fetish!”

  “You guys don’t have to go home,” Demetri said, trying hard not to laugh, “but you have to get the hell out of here...now!”

  Chapter 18

  Should I go for classy chic or sex kitten? Angela wondered as she cast a critical eye over the trendy designer dresses she was holding up under her chin. An hour after getting out of the shower, she was still standing in front of the mirror, stressing over what to wear. Dinner was simmering on the stove, scented candles had been lit and her favorite CD was playing on the living-room stereo. Soft, sensuous music filled the air, creating a romantic vibe that put Angela in a mood for slow dancing and passionate lovemaking. All she needed now was her man, and life would be perfect.

  Her body warmed and flushed with heat at the thought of Demetri. Angela never imagined she’d ever claim a man as her own, let alone cook, clean and
wax for him, but that was exactly what she’d done. Dating Demetri was an adventure, one filled with laughs, tender moments and toe-curling sex. And he was so ridiculously romantic. Angela went to bed every night with a smile on her face. But Demetri was more than just a great guy. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man and more.

  Angela’s eyes drifted to the digital clock sitting on her dresser. She couldn’t stop counting down the seconds until Demetri would arrive. Her behavior was juvenile, completely out of character, but these days Angela wasn’t thinking like a mature woman; she was acting more like a love-struck teen. Since meeting Demetri, she’d become someone else. Someone her producers and crew seemed to like much better. Maybe it was because she smiled more and wasn’t so uptight about everything.

  Or maybe, a little voice inside her head said, you’re happier because for the first time in your life you’re being your authentic self.

  Pondering the thought, Angela realized it was true. Every day after taping Eye on Chicago, Angela jumped in her car, anxious and excited to meet up with Demetri, not fretting about her on-camera performance or what her critics would say. And since attending Jazz Fest in Freeport two weeks earlier, Demetri had taken her from one public event to the other. On Thursday they went to a movie premiere, the following afternoon they dropped the top on his Rolls-Royce Phantom and cruised down to the beach, and yesterday he’d surprised her with front-row tickets to see the Jabbawockeez. At the show, fans approached Demetri for pictures and autographs, but he didn’t trip. He held babies, shook hands and smiled for the cameras. Angela loved seeing that side of him, loved watching him talk and laugh with his adoring fans.

  Eyes wide with alarm, Angela cast a glance over her shoulder. She waited, listened intently. A loud crackling sound filled the air, and a thick, heavy mist drifted inside the bedroom. Chucking the dresses onto the bed, Angela tore down the hall and burst into the kitchen as if it was on fire. And it was. Smoke was rising out of the pots, and the stench of charred meat was suffocating. The smoke alarm wailed so loud, Angela’s head throbbed.

  Grabbing the frying pan with one hand and the stainless-steel pot with the other, she dumped them into the sink and turned the water on full blast. The pots fizzled as steam rose from the rubble. The blackened meat looked like rubber.