Never Dare a Tycoon (3 page)

She turned to face Sal, hoping she could make him see her side.

“You!” she said, seeing for the first time that it was the gorgeous stranger who sat across from her during lunch and not her brother. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Taking you to a bar,” Brett said. “You look like you need a drink.” He deftly turned the corner then stopped the car.

 

He immediately got out of the car, handing his keys to the valet, then came around to the other side to open her door.

“Thank you,” she said, taking his hand as he helped her out of the car. She wished he was someone else – anyone but him. For some reason, she didn’t want him to see her crying.

“Look,” she started, “this is kind of you, but it really isn’t necessary,” she said, stopping in front of the dark wood and brass doors of an elegant bar.

Brett ignored her and put a hand in the small of her back to guide her inside. “The least you can do is have a drink with me since I had to cancel my three thirty meeting because of you.”

“Because of me?” she sputtered. “What did I do?”

 

“You were late for lunch,” he explained and held out two fingers to the hostess.

 

“And that made you cancel your afternoon meetings?” she said, following him despite her desire to walk out on him.

They were immediately led to a table near the front window. “Yes,” he said and pulled out the chair for her, looking her straight in the eye, daring her on her next move.

Antonia looked around. The bar was almost empty except for them. She wanted to walk out, but the years of good manners beaten into her by her mother and nanny wouldn’t let her. She carefully sat down in the chair he was still patiently holding.

“Thank you,” she said.

 

“You’re welcome,” he answered, smiling as he came around to the other side of the table and seated himself.

 

The waiter appeared to take their order and Brett answered, “A glass of white wine for the lady and a martini straight up for me,” he said.

Antonia gritted her teeth. Turning to the waiter, she smiled and said, “I’ll have a Corona. Thanks,” she said, asking for an imported Mexican beer instead of the lady-like white wine.

Brett didn’t say anything, just nodded to the waiter as he left. “What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as the waiter walked away.

“Nothing,” she said, handing him back the handkerchief. She wished her eyes didn’t stare but she was transfixed by his broad, muscular shoulders as he pulled at his tie, loosening the knot slightly.

Brett leaned back against the dark wood of the wall. “Ok, so you always lean against someone’s motorcycle and cry. That’s reasonable. I guess a lot of other people do that,” he said, his sensuous mouth curling in a slight smile. “What did you and your brother talk about after we left?”

“That’s personal,” she said, leaning back and crossing her legs. For some reason, she didn’t like him. What’s more, she hated the fact that she couldn’t remember his name.

“Fair enough,” he laughed. “How about the Redskins? Think they’ll make it to the playoffs this year?”

Her heartbeat accelerated when he laughed. He even had a gorgeous smile, dammit! “No,” she said, accepting the change of subject. “They don’t have a good enough defensive line this year, and their quarterback struggle still isn’t over,” she said and raised her eyebrows, waiting for his next volley.

Brett tried to hide his shock at her answer. This tiny woman with the sexiest legs he’d seen ever seen didn’t appear to be the type that even knew what sport the Redskins played, much less their chances for a winning season.

“The Mystics will have a better chance next year, if they can get the first round draft pick,” Antonia continued. “But other than that, sports in Washington is at a standstill until the Caps start up again.”

With that statement, Brett’s shock couldn’t be hidden. Most people in the area didn’t even know that there was a professional women’s basketball team in the Washington, D.C. area. But this gorgeous, classy lady even knew that they’d lost so many games during the last season, the team was up for a first round, overall draft pick. Very impressive, he thought.

“Do you think it will do any good?” he asked wondering if she’d just heard someone else say that, perhaps one of her brothers.

“No. I think New York will cheat them out of the draft pick somehow. We’ll have to see. Only a few more weeks until the suspense is over,” she said, smiling cheekily.

Completely blown away because she even knew that the WNBA started draft picks at the end of the month, Brett leaned forward. “Who are you?” he asked.

The waiter arrived with their drinks and Antonia took her beer and took a long swallow, ignoring the frosted glass sitting next to the bottle with a lime stuck in it. “No one important,” she replied.

“I doubt that,” he laughed. They talked about sports for the next half hour and Antonia leaned forward, intent on her argument when he challenged her opinion about the Washington Capitals, the regional ice hockey team. They sparred back and forth, pulling out statistics on each of the players to defend their positions but neither gave in.

Antonia suddenly realized that she was smiling and laughing too much. He was a friend of Sal’s and that meant danger. She had to get out of there quickly. “Thanks for the beer. I have to go now,” she said and stood up.

“Wait, are you going to be okay?” he asked, grabbing her arm as she tried to turn and leave.

All of Antonia’s bravado deserted her when he touched her arm with gentle pressure. He was too handsome, too tall, and definitely too sexy. His dark eyes looking down at her with concern completely threw her off balance.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him through her dark lashes.

 

“You don’t seem okay,” he said, his voice turning husky. Antonia licked her lips and stared at his mouth. She wondered how he kissed -- if it was soft and gentle or firm and aggressive.

 

“I’ll be fine,” she choked out.

 

“Antonia…” he said softly, as if her name were a caress.

Antonia groaned. She had to get out of here or she’d lose herself in his gaze. She forced her eyes to look away from his. But her eyes were caught on his broad shoulders. Her mind still would not behave. She wondered what his chest was like, if it was as muscular as it seemed underneath the starched cotton shirt and conservative, silk tie.

“I...I have to go,” she said and tried to take a step away. But her feet wouldn’t move. Looking up at him one more time was a mistake.

Slowly, he leaned down and his mouth gently touched her lips. All her thoughts completely deserted her. It was tentative at first. But when she didn’t pull away, he took her other arm and pulled her forward, deepening the kiss.

Antonia had never experienced the feelings rushing through her system at the first touch of his mouth. Her legs wouldn’t hold her anymore, so she leaned against him. A soft moan escaped her throat, but she ignored it, wanting more, but not sure what more was.

Her hands touched the front of his chest and she could feel the muscles tense underneath. She wanted to feel more, but didn’t have the courage.

 

Slowly, the kiss ended. Brett pulled back and looked into her eyes. Her first thought was to reach up and pull his head back down.

Then reality hit her. Antonia was shocked that she’d just kissed a man and didn’t even know his name. Instinctively, her hand reached up and swung. But before her hand made contact, his shot out and caught her wrist in a vise like grip. Instead of being angry that she’d tried to hit him, the man leaned down and kissed her again. More passionately this time, pulling her close so she could feel him along her whole length. And Antonia’s body responded.

Her free hand crept up his arms and curled around his neck and her body shivered, then moved to fit more closely to his. Deepening the kiss, his tongue swooped into her mouth to mate with her own.

Antonia no longer knew where she was or what was happening around her. All her senses were curling around this man. Her fingers tentatively touched his hair and she felt his body react swiftly.

Long minutes later, Antonia’s body was shaking against his. Her mind had ceased to function and all she wanted to do was to continue kissing him. But she couldn’t move because her hand was still caught in his.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said softly, searching her features.

 

Antonia shook her head and stepped back, pulling her hand free. “No,” she managed to say.

 

“Why not?” he asked, seemingly not surprised by her answer.

 

“I can’t,” she said. She cleared her throat. “Thank you for the beer. I need to go now,” she said.

On shaky legs, Antonia made it out of the bar. Standing in the cold, March air, she tried to get her bearings. She didn’t know where she was, so she wasn’t sure where her motorcycle was parked.

Too afraid to stand in the doorway for fear that the stranger would follow her, she started walking towards the nearest street with traffic. The beauty of D.C. is that all the streets ran parallel or perpendicular to each other. Well, except for the traffic circles, which confused everyone, including the residents.

Sure enough, as soon as she reached a main street, she knew where she was. Unfortunately, the only way back to her motorcycle was by bus and it wouldn’t arrive for another half hour because of the time of day. She’d have to hike it. There was no way she was going back into the bar to ask that stranger to drive her to the restaurant.

Forty-five minutes later, she finally arrived at her bike. It was a long walk, and she was wearing heels. But instead of the carpeting of Cesar’s, she’d walked along concrete streets. Her feet hurt just as badly as they did after a whole night at the club.

Looking at her watch, she gasped at the time. She was going to have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the club in time for her shift tonight. Pulling her jeans out of her backpack, she slid them under her skirt, then slipped the skirt off. She rolled both the skirt and the jacket up and put them into her pack.

Hopping on the bike, she sped away. She didn’t want to think about this day and specifically, her afternoon right now. All she wanted was to forget about the fight with her brother and the intensity of the kiss by that man.

As she drove her motorcycle through the streets, she was able to get herself back onto a somewhat normal keel. It was time to focus. She knew her brother, and he never made idle threats. She’d have to be careful. She wouldn’t put it past him to hire a private investigator to find out the information she wouldn’t give him.

Slipping through the heavy, rush-hour traffic, she formed a plan. It would require all her attention and she couldn’t slip once. She could beat Sal and her other brothers, but she’d have to be smarter than they were.

When she walked into the locker room at Cesar’s that evening, everyone was there and getting ready. When they saw her, they called out a communal “Hi!”

For the first time that day, Antonia laughed. “Hi,” she repeated to everyone. “I guess its Friday,” she said, knowing that Friday and Saturday nights were the hardest, but also the most profitable.

“You got it!” Monica called out cheerily in response.

Antonia chuckled as she made her way to her locker. She quickly donned her costume, gritting her teeth as she slipped her feet into the high-heeled black satin pumps. After her walk this afternoon, she would need to soak her feet for at least an hour tonight. The sexy cat costume she was required to wear as a waitress was almost as uncomfortable as her shoes, but she pulled it on, ignoring her image in the mirror. Her image was the part her ultra conservative brothers would object to. The costume showed more than she was generally comfortable with, but the tips were great and business was booming. Thankfully, the men who frequented the club were all upper class and would never stoop to mauling.

The evening was as hard as anticipated, but the tips were good. Antonia slipped her feet into the foot massager, not bothering to put in some scented oils. Tonight, she just needed the comfort.

Leaning her head back against the sofa, she let the tears flow down her cheeks as the memories of the afternoon flooded her mind.

Pushing the gorgeous man out of her consciousness for fear that he was beyond dangerous, she focused instead on Sal. What was she going to do about her brother? She hated hurting him. And the others would be just as upset when they found out. But they probably already knew. There were five messages on her answering machine. She couldn’t listen to any of them. She didn’t have the strength. She knew what they were. They were all messages from each of her brothers trying to find out what she was up to.

Maybe she should just give it up and use the money from her grandparents, she thought. She could avoid all the foot pain, all the irritation from her manager having a temper tantrum and she’d never have to put on that irritating costume again.

But she’d never see the numbers in her portfolio rise. She’d never experience that feeling of accomplishment, knowing she’d done something on her own, without her brothers’ help. She loved that feeling. And until a few years ago, she’d never felt it.

Why couldn’t they understand that she had a different path to follow? She didn’t want to get married and have children. She loved living on her own, waking up when she wanted, eating when she wanted, wearing what she wanted. Good grief, living with Sal, she’d never be able to wear jeans again! And her cowboy boots would most likely be burned.

Instead of her motorcycle, she’d be given an appropriate car to drive, probably a Mercedes or a BMW. As nice as those vehicles are, they couldn’t compare to the feeling of the wind in her face, the smells of the city hitting her head on. And the feeling of exhilaration when she set out down a street, not knowing what might happen.

“No,” she said to her empty apartment. “I’m not giving up. He’ll have to catch me before I’ll give up. That time will come soon enough.”

 

With that, she stood up and walked into her bedroom, wet feet and all.

 

She fell asleep that night, dreaming about a man who towered over her, with dark eyes and dark, blond hair. And a smile that turned her insides to jelly.

 

Chapter 3

Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. Antonia, having slept only four hours last night, glared at the bright blue sky. She didn’t feel up to a family gathering today. But it was Sunday. And every Sunday, the whole family gathers at the main house, now Sal’s, and drives to church together. Since no one knew that Antonia had a motorcycle, each Sunday, her brothers took turns picking her up and driving her to the house. Today it was Michael’s turn.