Читать книгу Seduced By The Bachelor - Pamela Yaye - Страница 14

Chapter 6

On Saturday morning, Markos sat at the oak desk inside his executive suite willing his eyes to focus and his brain to work. At breakfast, he’d had three cups of strong, black coffee, but the drinks didn’t give him the energy boost he needed.

Markos yawned. He couldn’t go five minutes without nodding off, and felt tired and out of sorts. Three hours of sleep wasn’t enough. If his cell phone alarm hadn’t gone off at 9:00 a.m., he’d probably still be in bed dreaming about Tatiyana—his titillating one-night stand with the wicked sense of humor and delicious curves.

At the thought of her, a grin curled his lips. After their tryst, they’d returned to the VIP room and spent the rest of the night partying with his family. They liked her, and Markos did, too. They’d returned to the resort in the wee hours of the morning, high on life and each other. Against his better judgment, he’d invited Tatiyana to his room again for a nightcap. She’d declined, given him a peck on the lips, then disappeared inside her suite. He didn’t like it, wanted to spend the night with her, but had respected her decision. They were playing in the golf tournament that afternoon, but Markos wanted to see her now. She’d blown his mind last night, put it on him so bad he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Markos turned on his laptop and flipped open his monthly planner. If he didn’t finish his to-do list, he’d be swamped when he returned to LA, and he didn’t want to have to work late on Monday night; he wanted to attend Matteo’s soccer game. He loved his nephew and was looking forward to watching him play at Lincoln Park.

Waiting for his documents to load, he stretched his neck from side to side, flexing and cracking his muscles. Enough sitting around. He had motions to write, and he didn’t want to disappoint his clients—or himself. It was a challenge, but he put all thoughts of Tatiyana out of his mind and got down to work.

Two hours later, after several more cups of coffee, Markos had answered his emails, finished drafting a divorce settlement and had a brief video conference with Kassem. Having met while studying in college, Markos had known Kassem Glover for over a decade, and was proud of what his friend had accomplished. Kassem had offered to campaign on his behalf during the next election, and Markos appreciated his support. In his ten years of practicing law, he’d been called everything from a liar to a snake in an Armani suit, but he let the insults roll off his back. His clients appreciated his hard work and dedication, had promised to support his political endeavors and that was all that mattered.

Needing a break, Markos picked up his cell phone and reclined in his leather chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. He had ten new text messages from the surgeon. What did she want now? Caroline Walsh was the type of woman his father would like him to marry—educated, successful, born into a wealthy family—but she was an opportunist who was more interested in attending movie premiers than getting to know him as a person. They saw each other a couple times a month, and that suited Markos just fine. Caroline talked endlessly about her patients, droned on and on about the latest fashion trends, and the last time they’d had dinner he’d left the restaurant with a splitting headache.

As Markos scrolled through his text messages his iPhone rang, and he put it to his ear. “Morning,” he greeted, turning off his computer. “How are you?”

“Terrible. I miss you. When will you be back in LA?”

Convinced he’d misheard her, he stared down at his cell. “You miss me?”

“Baby, of course I do. It feels like you’ve been gone forever.”

“It’s been two days.”

“I wish you were here,” she replied. “I hate when we’re apart. It’s torture.”

“You never missed me when you traveled to South America in March with your girlfriends,” he pointed out. “You were gone for a month, but you never called. Not even once.”

“We weren’t a couple then.”

Markos choked on his tongue. “We’re a couple now?”

“Yes, silly!” She giggled as if he’d made a funny joke, but sobered quickly. “I’m just calling to remind you to get tickets for the Governor’s Masquerade Ball in October. They’re selling like hotcakes, and I don’t want us to miss the biggest social event of the year.”

“I already have tickets. The governor gave them to me the last time we played golf.”

“Perfect! Now, all I need is a dress and I’m good to go.”

Why? He took a swig of his lukewarm coffee. You’re not my date.

“I have my eye on a lace Valentino gown, but I can’t find it anywhere,” she complained. “I think a trip to New York is in order. Three or four days should suffice.”

“Have fun.”

“What do you mean, ‘have fun’? We’re going together.”

“No, we’re not. I have to work, and furthermore we’re not a couple. We’re just friends.”

“But I want to go to the Governor’s Masquerade Ball with you!” she protested, shouting her words.

Of course you do. You’re addicted to the limelight and you’ll do anything to rub shoulders with my A-list friends and clients. “I have to go. We’ll talk soon.”

“Markos, wait, I love you!”

He laughed out loud, couldn’t believe Caroline thought she could fool him. “You don’t love me. You love my wealth and status—”

Caroline gave a shaky laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I adore you. You know that.”

“Okay, humor me,” he said, deciding to put her to the test. “What’s my favorite drink?”

“Ahhh...water?”

“No. Rum and Coke.” The phone on the end table rang, but Markos ignored it. He wanted to know if Caroline was as self-absorbed as he thought she was, and he wasn’t letting her off the hook until she answered his questions. “What’s my nephew’s name?”

“Mason!”

“Wrong again. Matteo.” Annoyed, Markos shook his head. “Where was I born?”

“I know! Somewhere in Italy.”

“We’ve known each other for over a year, but you still know nothing about me.”

“That’s a lie. I do,” Caroline argued, speaking in a confident tone. “You’re a partner at one of the most prestigious law firms in the state, you have vacation homes in Ibiza, Saint Tropez and Palm Springs, and you have an impressive sports car collection as well.”

Yeah, but none of those things matter. Material things don’t mean shit to me.

“We’re going to the Governor’s Masquerade Ball together,” she insisted. “Everyone’s expecting us to be there, and as my man, you have to ensure I look my best. We’re going to New York next weekend so I can get the perfect gown, shoes and jewelry.”

“I can’t drop everything to take you shopping out east. I’m an attorney, Caroline, not a stylist or a human ATM.”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?” she snapped, her tone thick with anger.

“Not.” Ending the call, he tossed his cell phone into his briefcase. His stomach grumbled, reminding him he needed to eat, and he rose to his feet. Markos was starving, hankering for a steak burger from the resort sports bar, but first he needed to shower.

A sharp knock on the door drew his gaze across the room. It was probably Immanuel. His brother was an early riser, who exercised first thing in the morning, and Markos wouldn’t be surprised if Dionne was at his side. These days, the couple went everywhere together and when they were apart, Immanuel looked lost, sadder than a kid who’d lost his lucky dollar.

Crossing the room, Markos noted how bright it was outside. The sun was shining, promising another gorgeous day in Cigar City, and a fragrant aroma wafted into the suite through the open windows. He opened the door, expecting to see his brother, but his gaze landed on Tatiyana. She was clad in a floral hair scarf, purple bikini top and a white, flouncy skirt, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her big, beautiful breasts were spilling out of her flimsy top, tempting him. Markos pictured himself burying his face in her décolletage, could almost taste her nipples inside his mouth, and swallowed hard.

“Hey, you!” she said with a radiant smile. “I brought lunch...”

At the sound of her cheery voice, Markos broke free of his explicit thoughts. Tearing his gaze away from her cleavage, he noticed the food cart in front of her. A sweet, piquant aroma tickled his nose, and Markos licked his lips. Forget lunch, he thought, his hungry gaze sliding down Tatiyana’s mouth-watering curves. Let’s start with dessert...

“I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but I called your room several times with no luck. I figured you were hard at work and could probably use a break.”

A group of bare-chested men in swim trunks approached, talking loudly, but conversation stopped when they spotted Tatiyana. They gawked at her, drooling all over themselves, but she paid them no mind and gave him her undivided attention.

“I hate eating alone. You have to keep me company.”

Images of her naked body flashed in his mind, derailing his thoughts. Seconds passed before his head cleared, and he reunited with his voice. “I’d be honored. Nothing beats having lunch with a smart, captivating woman.”

“Not even winning a huge court case?”

“Not even wining a huge court case,” he repeated, speaking from the heart.

Stepping aside, he watched as Tatiyana strode into his suite, switching her hips.

“I wanted to thank you for last night, so I hijacked a room-service cart and here I am.” Tatiyana lifted the covers off the entrées with a flourish. “I hope you like Chinese food because I brought wonton soup, sweet and sour pork, shrimp fried rice and spring rolls.”

“Everything sounds delicious. Let’s eat!”

Within minutes, the coffee table was covered with plates, utensils and alcohol from the minibar. Over lunch, Tatiyana entertained him with stories about her childhood, books she’d read and loved, and her volunteer work at the Los Angeles Women’s Shelter.

Opening a bottle of wine, Tatiyana asked Markos about his educational and professional background. Markos loved his job, enjoyed talking shop and was impressed with her questions. She had an opinion about everything, wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and argued her point with the skill of a seasoned attorney.