Leah's Seduction: 6 (Gianni and Leah - Leah's Seduction) (6 page)

Chapter 11

As Gianni predicted, the employment terms were acceptable. They were more generous than Leah anticipated. It was a lot of responsibility, so the salary was appropriate compensation, along with bonuses. The new position made her want to work very hard to live up to expectations. But she was also thrilled that she would be able to pursue her passion for marketing, unrestricted.

Leah got settled into her new office, and Aida moved into the one next to hers. It was going to be a good arrangement, and her friend was grateful for the job. Next on the agenda was a call home. She needed to share the news of her new job, and also let her family know she would be in Argentina for a couple of weeks.

International travel had become part of Leah’s life since she had met Gianni. Now it would be required for her career. Next season’s looks were now hitting the runways of Buenos Aires. She had studied Argentine designers, and found they tended to follow their own creative instincts. They were not as in tune with global trends, and Leah couldn’t wait to see the designs.

Argentina Fashion Week, known as BAAM, took place twice a year. Leah would be attending in March, when designers showcased collections for the coming autumn/winter seasons. The designers to be highlighted were recognized nationally and internationally. Fashion was a growing business in Argentina.

Leah wondered if dressing for Buenos Aires was like Europe: no jeans, shorts, sneakers, and so on. She called Deanna, her fashion consultant who had also travelled internationally, and got the answer. She said, “No shorts, no sneakers or tennis shoes unless they are designer. Jeans? Absolutely, any time and pretty much anywhere. A dress or skirt for lunch or dinner.” Deanna paused while Leah scribbled notes. “And no white…because by the end of the day it looks black. And…no red shoes. It is something that goes back to older times, but has stayed ingrained.”

Kyra enthusiastically helped Leah pack, and they managed to fit everything into one suitcase. “At least it’s warm there, so you don’t have to worry about coats and such,” her friend said. “They are so bulky. Plus, you can always buy something while you are there.”

“If Gianni has his way, I’m sure I will,” Leah said.

*****

The Hilton Buenos Aires was in the modern neighborhood of Puerto Madero, one of the safest areas of town. Another good feature was that there wasn’t as much dust as in other sections of the city. When time permitted, it was a pleasant area for afternoon walks, with plenty of parks to enjoy, and there were many waterside restaurants nearby.

Leah learned that nothing opened early in the city. And restaurants were empty until nine at night, quiet until ten. The nightclubs, called
boliches
, didn’t get going until two in the morning. There was one thing that was clear about Buenos Aires: the inhabitants preferred being out late.

Spanish was the common language, but in all the business areas and in the hotel, English-speaking personnel were easy to find. The sleek hotel was a massive glass and steel structure, close to downtown. The atrium lobby had exposed glass elevators, wraparound hallways, and a floor-to-ceiling glass entrance.

There was a rooftop pool, which Leah took advantage of to sip a fruit smoothie and stare at the skyline. And she enjoyed meals with Gianni at the exclusive downstairs restaurant. Plaza de Mayo, a major plaza, was only a few blocks away. And, as predicted, Gianni went shopping with her at the first opportunity.

Since fashion was the focus of the trip, Gianni took her to Palermo Soho, a trendy neighborhood filled with boutiques. The people had an obvious sense of style. The city was a vibrant fashion community where dozens of independent designers and brands influenced the country and continent-wide fashion trends.

One boutique in particular had Leah’s attention. The name Amores Trash Couture defined the style. The clothes were trashy in a good way. They combined styles from the ’50s and ’60s, heavily accessorized and trashed to make them a bit punky, with a modern twist.

Leah bought a short, sleeveless black dress. The front was in geometric shapes of pink, red, yellow, and turquoise. She didn’t know if her fashion consultant would approve, but she adored it. And Gianni thought she looked hot. She bought that dress, and a light gray blouse with tiny gems embedded that went with a pair of gold-lamé pants.

The Hilton Hotel hosted the five-day fashion week. Local designers graced the catwalk, showing off over thirty labels to the crowds. The event was full of willowy beauties, and those willing to spend a lot to buy the fashions they modeled.

There was a new wave of fashion designers in Argentina, all very different from each other. Many of the designs were quality clothes that were easy and elegant. Leah took notes and snapped pictures. The show gave her some good ideas for fast fashion and her new marketing tactics. Between viewings, she shared some concepts with Gianni, and he responded favorably.

The shows concluded, and they still had a few days before returning. “I’ve rented a boat for us,” Gianni said one morning. “Sailing is a popular sport here, since Buenos Aires is a port city. I thought we’d give it a try.”

“We would sail on the river?”

“Yes, we pick up the boat at the yacht club, and it will sail past the bridge out to the River Plata.”

Leah laughed. “Rio de la Plata.”

“You’ve been paying attention,” Gianni said. “We are close to the Atlantic, but we will just be on the river.”

They changed clothes and then took transportation to the Puerto Madero Yacht Club. Local security that Gianni had hired went along. One of the guards explained, “All the offices, cinemas, restaurant, banks, hotels, and cafés that you see now didn’t used to be here. The government did a renovation of the docks, and now it is a tourist area.”

Leah held Gianni’s hand. “It’s fascinating here, with all the sailors and seamen around smoking pipes,” she said. “It reminds me of something historical.”

The guard responded, “Tourists are captivated by the idea of navigating the widest river in the world. It’s called ‘the river with the color of the lion.’” Leah gazed at the water, seeing that its brown color did look like that of a lion.

Once aboard the boat, the skipper pressed the button to start the engine, and slowly started to leave the quay to head for the bridge that separated the docks from the river. “I didn’t realize that was a bridge when I first saw it,” Leah said. “It is a very beautiful white arch, more like a sculpture than a bridge.”

“I understand it opens once an hour,” Gianni said. “See that queue of sailing boats up ahead? Looks like everyone is waiting to cross.”

Leah turned to the guard. “What does Puente de la Mujer mean?”

“Women’s Bridge,” he said.

“That’s fitting. It’s lovely.”

“It’s a swing bridge,” Gianni said.

“What is that?”

“Watch, and you’ll see.”

The bridge looked like a brilliant white concrete arch with an asymmetrical arrangement. It had a single mast with cables suspending a portion of the bridge. That portion rotated ninety degrees to allow water traffic to pass.

“That was amazing,” Leah said. “The bridge is even more beautiful at night when it is lit. I can see it from our hotel room. It truly is a work of art.”

As the sailing boat was slowly propelled by her engine, the skipper started to untie and spread the sail. In the beginning, the ropes and knots seemed like a tangled labyrinth. But they unfurled, and the sail came into position to catch the wind. Gradually the view changed from boats, factories, and buildings to the skyline of the city, with the huge expanse of water in front of it.

Ducks and seagull escorted the boat from a distance, and then flew off in search of another sailing vessel, likely scouting for food. Both Gianni and Leah tried steering the boat, and led the craft for a few minutes.

“See that,” Gianni said, pointing out planes from Jorge Newbery Airfield that flew in circles overhead, or touched the ground among the trees.

“Yes,” Leah said. “And look there.” She motioned toward an area with food stands, and a seafront wall, with office clerks looking over it to see the pier.

On the way back, Leah spotted the Sheraton Hotel, and the clock on a tower built by the English in San Martin square. Once again, she got to see the bridge open to let them back in. When they were on shore again, Leah said, “That was special. There is a certain perspective being aboard a sailing ship. It’s hard to explain, but I feel it. I have a new appreciation for Buenos Aires after seeing such a panoramic view of it from the water.”

Dinner was at a trendy café in the main section of Puerto Madero. They each ordered Bife de Chorizo, which was a mouth-watering Argentine steak. And Gianni chose a bottle of Malbec from Mendoza to go with it.

“There is a reason that Argentina is known for its juicy, gigantic steaks,” Leah said, carving another succulent bite.

“And for its Malbec,” Gianni said. “It has such a velvety texture.”

Leah laughed. “And it tastes good too.”

Not wanting to waste any of the remaining time they had in Buenos Aires, they decided to try one of the clubs. The nightclub was recommended as one of the most beautiful, and it faced the dock in Puerto Madero. The club played a wide range of music, from American rock to tango to salsa. Gianni and Leah stayed late and had a great time, dancing until they were ready to drop.

Once they staggered back to the Hilton and got their clothes off, it was nearly dawn. Leah snuggled next to Gianni and fell into a deep sleep. She didn’t wake until late morning, and even then had trouble opening her eyes. She needed coffee, and badly. Leah felt like a true citizen of Buenos Aires. The late nights could easily become a habit.

Chapter 12

As soon as Gianni woke up, he splashed water on his face and dressed to go out for a walk. The smell of coffee drew him to the kitchen, and he downed a cup, hoping the caffeine would bring him to life. Leah said she needed some fresh air, so they went to the expansive green area running down the center of the Puerto Madero neighborhood.

The hotel coffee hadn’t done the trick, and in dire need of something more potent, they stopped at a street vendor for espresso and empanadas. The espresso was strong, and the folded pie filled with beef was hot. It was just what he needed.

Other residents were walking, jogging, or riding bikes. The day was warm and pleasant. “I had a great time with you last night,” Leah said, pressing her knee against his.

Gianni ate the last bite of his empanada. “You wore me out.”

She laughed. “You were the one who kept dancing.”

He lifted his coffee cup. “We can always sleep in the plane on the way home.”

“That’s tomorrow,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes. “What about tonight?”

Gianni grinned. “It’s our last night in Buenos Aires. Who said anything about sleeping?”

She put her arm around Gianni and pressed her head to his shoulder. “I could sleep right now.”

He brushed some hair away from her face. “I vote for going to the cinema this afternoon. Everything here starts so late. We could hang out there before dinner.”

“Sure, but don’t blame me if I fall asleep when the lights go down,” Leah said.

When they finished their coffee, they continued their walk and ended up cruising the street vendors at the docks. There were street performers among booths with handmade goods for sale, like pottery, stained glass, and jewelry. The market was crowded.

Gianni bought Leah a silver necklace studded with rodocrosita, the national stone of Argentina. It was a rose-colored volcanic stone with a translucent appearance, and looked striking around Leah’s neck. She left it on, and kept fingering the glitzy stones.

They rested at an outdoor café and ordered food. The light breakfast had barely put a dent in Gianni’s appetite. He ordered a sirloin sandwich with chips, and ate every bite. Leah had a salmon salad, and was still nibbling at it long after Gianni was done with his meal.

“I could use a shower before the movies,” she said. “How about going back to the hotel for a bit?”

“Good idea. We have plenty of time.”

“And I’ll start doing a little packing, since we leave so early tomorrow,” Leah said.

The trip to Buenos Aires had been good. Gianni was glad he had experienced the city with Leah during the day. And he would not forget the nights he held her, naked in his arms. Looking at the pink gems around her neck made him imagine making love to her with nothing else on. The silver and pink next to her flawless skin created a delectable image.

They were in no rush. He envisioned stripping her clothes off when they got back to the room. Maybe they wouldn’t make it to the movies. Holding her warm body close sounded much more enticing. Gianni got hard just thinking about it.

When they entered the room, Leah grabbed a couple of shopping bags to move them to the bedroom. They had done a lot of shopping while there. It might take some doing to fit everything into the luggage. He might have to buy another suitcase.

Gianni followed her into the huge bedroom. He liked just watching her move, the way her hips swayed, and how her hair flowed over her shoulders. Leah turned to smile at him. Then she reached for the small bag she had carried on the plane.

It seemed like everything happened in slow motion. As she lifted one leather handle, the other slipped from her grasp, and the bag fell open. Some items tumbled out, and a book hit the floor at his feet. Leah drew back as if stung.

Gianni stared at the book. It was a leather journal, and the horror of seeing it made him freeze. “Where did you get this?” he said, before thinking. His mind wasn’t working. It didn’t make sense for the journal to be in her bag.

She was flustered. Leah said, “At that stationary shop on 18
th
Street.”

Gianni couldn’t process why she was nervous.

Leah didn’t reach for the book, so he bent to pick it up. Touching the leather seemed unreal. The book was locked in his safe. How could it be in the hotel room? He looked into Leah’s eyes, trying to tell what she was thinking.

She shifted from one foot to the other, and wrapped her arms around her waist. Shrugging, Leah said, “It’s my journal.”

Gianni gazed at the journal as if it was a snake that would bite him. Then the light dawned. This was not the
same
journal. It had a different style of lettering on the front. But he dared not open it. He gripped it in both hands, and looked at her.

Leah bit her lower lip. “It’s not like I have secrets or something,” she said. “I just…you know, write down my thoughts. It helps me sometimes. I have been doing that for years.”

Gianni wanted to say something, but there was no way in hell that he could tell her that he knew.

She took a step closer. “I even write about you. Sometimes.” She glanced at the journal. “But it’s always good. What I write about you, I mean.” Leah shook her head. “I don’t know why I brought it on this trip. I knew I’d be with you every night.”

He didn’t know what to do exactly. Gianni didn’t want to blow it by saying the wrong thing, or accidentally giving himself away. So he let Leah guide the conversation.

“I only write in it when I’m alone. It’s just a way to release emotion, I guess.” She waited, but Gianni remained silent. “Should I have told you? I mean…I didn’t think it was important. Or would be important to you.”

He lifted his hand, and Leah took the journal from him. “I understand,” he said. “Writing is a good way to express emotion.”

Gianni opened his arms, and Leah fell into them. He hugged her tight, wondering if it would be one of the last times. She leaned up and kissed him. “If I thought it mattered, I would have told you,” she said.

He thrust his hand in her hair, aching inside, dreading the impending loss of her. “Are you okay?” she said. Gianni nodded. “I’m fine.” Leah hesitated. “Do you want to shower?”

“No, you go ahead. I have some calls to make.” He watched her grab some clothes and head for the shower, after stuffing the journal back in her bag.

“Okay,” she called. “I might be a while. This huge tub looks awfully inviting. I think I’ll soak for a few minutes.” She closed the bathroom door.

Gianni stood where he was. He heard the water running. After a couple of minutes, he reached into Leah’s bag and retrieved the journal. He had to know for sure. Walking into the hall, he let the book fall open.

There, in lovely script, were Leah’s private confessions. Like before, they were in blue pen. And like before, Gianni had no business reading them. Shock electrified his body. The writing was the same, exactly the same, as the journal locked in his safe at the condo.

Seeing her new journal, gazing at her distinctive writing style, dispelled any shred of doubt that the lost journal Gianni possessed was Leah’s. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Yet denying that truth had been his last bastion against guilt.

It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if the journal he had read from cover to cover didn’t belong to Leah. But it did. There was no question now. With a trembling hand, Gianni went to the bedroom and slipped the journal back into Leah’s bag. Then he went to the other room and sat in a chair by the window.

He couldn’t let her know that anything was wrong. That would be the worst thing.

Many times during the trip, Leah had said she loved him. Sometimes in the heat of passion, other times over a quiet dinner. Anxiety roiled in his belly. It was Ava all over again.

Only it wasn’t. This time Gianni felt something different.

He didn’t understand his feelings, and Gianni needed more time. But with this new discovery, he may not have that time. His silence about retaining possession of the original journal was a secret that could tear them apart. The knowledge that he had failed to share was a ticking time bomb. And he didn’t know when it was going to blow up.

Leah was barely a room away from him, yet she felt out of reach. Gianni‘s heart wrenched as he thought of the intimacy they had shared. Regret surfaced and nagged at him. He should have told her. Much earlier. He should have told her when there was less at stake.

His own greed, Gianni’s own need to have her, had prevented him from doing so. But that didn’t change the fact that he
should
have. And now it might be too late. He could no longer pretend it wasn’t true. That it was some other woman who had lost a journal she had likely forgotten about by now.

That wasn’t the case.

It was Leah’s, just as Gianni had suspected from the first moment she had spoken her name. He took a deep breath. There was only one thing to do. Just one option. Gianni had kept quiet about it for this long. He would have to push the thought of the journal out of his mind
permanently
, because one thing was certain: Leah could not find out.

# # #

Follow the passionate story of Gianni and Leah in Leah’s Seduction 7.

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HERE
for Book 7 details!

“Leah discovers a secret that may rip them apart.”

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Leah’s Seduction 6 by Emily Jane Trent ©2014 All Rights Reserved

Published By Camden Lee Press

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Emily Jane Trent writes steamy romances about characters you’ll get to know and love. The sex scenes are hot, and the romance even hotter! If you are a fan of stories with a heroine that’s got spunk and a hunk of a hero that you’d like to take home with you, these stories are what you’re looking for.