Seduced by Mr. Right (12 page)

“Francesca, enough is enough. You can't keep living like this. You'll be twenty-six in a few months, but you're still acting like a teenager.”

“All I've ever wanted was to be a mom, but now that Lucca's gone...” Her voice broke, cracked with emotion. “He was my world, and life seems meaningless without him.”

I used to feel that way, too, but then I met Sharleen, and my life changed for the better.

At the thought of her, he felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Introducing her to his pit crew last Friday had been a huge step for him, but she'd easily won them over with her easygoing nature and infectious laugh. Until meeting her, he'd never considered getting married or having children, but these days it was all he could think about. But before he could pop the question, and move Sharleen into his estate, he had to win her heart.

“Sometimes I think about moving back to Italy,” Francesca continued, “but I think I'd miss living in the States too much. I honestly don't know what I want. I'm so confused...”

Emilio kissed her on the forehead and rubbed her shoulders. “I'm going to arrange for you to have a private coaching session with Sharleen here at the house. She's the best in the business, and I'm confident she can help you discover your purpose in life.”

“And
I
think she's after your money.”

Oh, brother, not
this
again.

“That life-coach girl told you to cut me off financially, didn't she?”

“Sharleen had nothing to do with my decision. I love you, and I'm here to support you—”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Francesca poked out her bottom lip. “Why are you being unreasonable? It's just five thousand dollars. That's chump change to you.”

“That's not the point.”

“Whatever. Forget I asked.”

Emilio felt his heart soften and his resolve crumble. He put his hand in his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. He'd give Francesca the money, but insist she pay him back.

Yeah, right!
You have a better chance of meeting the president!

“You used to have my back, and now I don't know who you are anymore,” Francesca said.

Nose in the air, she stepped past him and stomped off.
He watched with a heavy heart as she stormed down the cobblestone walkway. He called out to her, told her to come back, but she ignored him. Francesca jumped into her Mercedes-Benz convertible—the one he'd bought her for Christmas—and tore through the gates of his estate like a bat out of hell.

Chapter 13

S
outh Beach, the infamous Miami district Sharleen had seen on TV and read about in magazines, lived up to its hype. Latin music blared from bars, and the air smelled of tantalizing aromas. Street performers entertained tourists, and fabulously gorgeous people cruised down the block in luxury vehicles with personalized license plates. Excited to be in such a vibrant city, she shielded her eyes from the hot, blistering sun and soaked in the world around her.

“Are you having a good time?” Emilio asked, resting a hand on her back.

“I shouldn't have let you talk me into going in-line skating.” Sharleen lowered her shoulders and swung her arms to increase her speed. “I haven't done this in years.”

“Don't sweat it. You're doing great.”

Yeah, until I trip and fall flat on my face!

They'd arrived at the Fisher Island Club last night, and after checking out their cozy, two-bedroom cottage, they'd set out on foot to explore the secluded island getaway. Unbeknownst to her, Emilio had arranged for them to have a private cooking lesson with reality star chef Chaz Romero and a candlelit dinner on the beach. His thoughtfulness made her desire him even more, and they'd laughed the night away over filet mignon and Italian wine. They'd laughed and kissed and danced in the moonlight to the distant sound of Latin music. Emilio made her feel cherished and adored, as if she mattered to him more than anything. It was a heady feeling, one she'd never experienced before.

“I'm not used to skating ten miles in ninety-degree temperatures.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You could have fooled me. You're a natural.”

Sharleen skated over to one of the picnic tables at South Pointe Park, sat down and fanned a hand to her face. “I need a break and a cold drink.”

“Coming right up,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “Wait here. I'll be back in a few.”

Her eyes followed him, moved over his chiseled physique with deliberate slowness. Emilio skated over to the food truck parked on the sidewalk and joined the slow-moving line. Like vultures, a group of bikini-clad women crowded around him, batting their eyelashes.

Sharleen shot evil daggers at the young, perky quartet. Emilio couldn't go anywhere in Miami without females asking him for his autograph or slipping him a phone number when they
thought
Sharleen wasn't looking. They'd spent the morning exploring art galleries and museums, and everywhere she turned women were undressing him with their eyes. It was annoying, and although he never gave her reason to feel insecure, she was. His admirers had perfect skin and great bodies, and Sharleen couldn't help envying their gorgeous looks.

“You look handsome on TV, but you're even sexier in person,” she overheard the redhead say. “I've seen all of your races, and I've always dreamed of meeting you...”

Sharleen scoffed, rolled her eyes. She wanted to take off her skates and fling them at the redhead, but she didn't want to get arrested for assault with a deadly weapon.

“Since we're in South Beach, I figured we could try some of the local cuisine...”

Sharleen blinked and stared up at Emilio. He looked smokin' hot in his aviator sunglasses, navy polo shirt and cargo shorts, but it was his strong, masculine cologne that aroused her. It overpowered her senses, made her thoughts take an erotic detour. X-rated images consumed her mind, but she kept her hands in her lap and off of his chest. “Something smells delicious,” she said. “What did you buy?”

“The works. Ceviche, Cuban sandwiches, fruit salad and sangria iced tea.”

“I said I wanted a cold drink, not a buffet lunch!”

“Eat up. You'll need your strength for what I have planned for you later.”

She hid her nervous excitement and sipped her sangria. As they ate lunch, they discussed how to spend the rest of the afternoon, the Exotic Car Show and their evening dinner plans.

“I'm a bit nervous about meeting your cousin and his wife,” Sharleen confessed.

“Don't be. Nicco's a great guy.” Emilio finished his sandwich and then cleaned his mouth with a napkin. “I haven't met Jariah yet, or her six-year-old daughter, but I've heard nothing but good things. Nicco adores Ava and treats her like his own flesh and blood.”

“Where do they live?”

“In Coral Gables, but they'll meet us at the Exotic Car Show and we'll drive to their estate together...” His gaze left her face, and he broke off speaking.

Sharleen glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see a pretty blonde behind her, but she was surprised to see dozens of elementary schoolchildren playing soccer. They ran down the field, shrieking and laughing, and their high-pitched voices filled the air.

“Lucca would have turned seven on August first.”

Sharleen stood, came around the picnic table and sat down beside him. She clasped his hand and stroked his forearms. “Are you still having nightmares about the accident?”

“Not every night.” Emilio wore a sad smile. “You were right. Meditation
does
work.”

They sat in silence, sipping their drinks and watching the kids play soccer.

“I replay the accident in my mind every day, but I still don't understand why Lucca died. He was only five years old. He had his entire life ahead of him.”

His eyes were downcast, his shoulders bent, and when he spoke, his voice was filled with sorrow. “I want to tell you what happened. Maybe it will help me heal and bring us even closer together.”

Sharleen nodded to encourage him.

“I was in my office, reviewing film tapes with my crew, when Lucca burst in and jumped into my arms. He was running around, getting into everything, so I sent him to his room so he wouldn't disturb us. But instead of going upstairs, he went outside.”

Dread flooded her body, and her throat closed up.

“We found him an hour later, facedown in the pool. He wasn't breathing, so I did CPR until the paramedics arrived... I prayed that he'd pull through, but he didn't.”

Words didn't come. Her thoughts were clouded with sadness, and it took everything in her not to break down. Her heart broke for Emilio, and finally after weeks of intense coaching sessions, she understood why he blamed himself for his nephew's death.

“I should have been watching
him
instead of film tape, but I was so stressed-out about my upcoming race in Barcelona that I wasn't thinking straight.” He turned his head away and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I was so obsessed with fame and fortune and my stupid legacy that I let it consume me, and it cost me Lucca.”

Emilio stared out onto the field, as if he were lost in another world. Minutes passed, and the longer the silence dragged on, the more helpless Sharleen felt.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Sharleen paused to gather her thoughts. She racked her mind for something insightful to say, for the perfect quote to comfort him, but came up empty. “I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”

“You already have.” He faced her and stared deep in her eyes.

“I didn't think I deserved to be happy, but then I met you and I realized I'd been given a second chance. And this time around I'm going to help others, not obsess over money and fame.”

Entranced by the sound of his voice, she moved closer to him, eager to hear more. In her peripheral vision, she saw something orange flapping in the sky and glanced at it. An airplane, towing a wide banner, flew overhead, drawing everyone's attention. Sharleen Nichols Is the Most Beautiful Woman in South Beach.

Sharleen gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, pounded so fast she couldn't catch her breath. Emilio had surprised her again, when she least expected it. She was blown away by the romantic, unexpected gesture. Yesterday, he'd filled her room at the Fisher Island Club with dozens of roses and treated her to a dream date on the beach. He was a modern-day Prince Charming, and there was never a dull moment when he was around.

“Oh, my gosh, this is insane!” she said, her eyes glued to the banner. “I can't believe you did this!”

“I've fallen hard for you, Sharleen, and I want the world to know.”

His caress along the small of her back flooded her body with heat. Leaning forward until their heads were touching, he stroked her cheeks with his fingertips. The baby-fine hairs on her neck shot up, and a delicious tingle zipped down her spine.

“How do you feel about moving our coaching sessions from the office to the bedroom?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper. “I know what I want, and it's you.”

Sharleen didn't trust herself to speak. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn't know where to begin. Her tongue felt numb, but she forced the truth out of her mouth. “Emilio, there are things about me you don't know.”

“You're not an ax murderer, are you?”

Despite herself, she laughed at his joke.

“There is nothing you could say that will change the way I feel about you.”

That's what they all say until they find out the truth.

“And no one has to know that we're dating. It'll be our little secret.”

“Then I can't renew your contract. It would be wrong and unethical, and it could cost me my job.” An idea sparked in her mind, one Sharleen wished she'd thought of sooner.

“My former colleague, Jocelyn Calhoun, taught me everything I know about life coaching, and she's one of the smartest, most insightful people I know. Would you be willing to meet her?”

“Sure, why not? She sounds like good people.”

“No funny business, Emilio.”

He wore an innocent face and held up his palms as if he were surrendering to the cops. “What are you talking about? I'm as good as they come.”

“No flirting, no long lunches at Dolce Vita, and I don't care how hot it is outside—keep your shirt on at all times. Got it?”

“You have nothing to worry about. I don't want anyone but you.” He cupped her chin in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Chapter 14

T
he Fisher Island Club, a world-class resort accessible only by ferry, was
the
hotel to the stars and the most breathtaking place Sharleen had ever seen. Exiting the luxury yacht, hand in hand with Emilio, she marveled at the beauty of her surroundings. She took in the lush grounds, the exotic birds perched high in the coconut palms and the stunning view of the Atlantic Ocean. Celebrities were everywhere—tanning on the beach, sipping cocktails at the bar, snapping selfies in the turquoise blue water, but Sharleen only had eyes for Emilio. He'd been doting on her ever since they'd arrived in Miami, and every time he called her his Island Beauty she wanted to do cartwheels up and down the beach.

Emilio hugged her close to his side, and joy swelled inside her chest. They'd had the perfect day, one she'd never forget. They'd had a buffet-style breakfast in their private courtyard, played three rounds of golf with the newest Hollywood “It” couple and toured the island aboard an eighty-foot yacht. It amazed Sharleen how much they had in common, how much they'd laughed and how he'd opened up to her about his family. No topic was off-limits, no question too personal, and hearing about how his relatives had cashed in on his grief after his nephew's death made Sharleen want to strangle his estranged relatives.

“Did you have fun? I know the tour guide was a bit eccentric, but I learned a lot from him.”

“I did, too, and now I understand why locals call Fisher Island the playground of the rich and famous.” Sharleen snapped pictures of the tropical garden with her camera phone and uploaded the images to her Instagram page. “The resort has everything a girl could want. Watch out, Emilio—I may
never
leave!”

“That's fine with me. As long as I have you by my side, I'll be happy.”

Touched by his words, Sharleen smiled and snuggled against his shoulder. She wanted to jump into his arms and shower his face with kisses, but she exercised self-control and squeezed his hand instead.

Emilio led Sharleen inside the sunlit atrium and signed an autograph for the manager's teenage son at the front desk. “I didn't realize it was four thirty,” he said. “We better head back to the cottage and get ready.”

“For what? I thought we were staying in tonight.” Sharleen gave him a puzzled look, but deep down she was thrilled that he'd planned something special for her and was curious to know exactly what it was. “Where are we going?”

He kissed her on the cheek. “Be patient. You'll find out soon enough.”

An hour later, Sharleen was showered and dressed. They were sharing the cottage, but they had separate rooms. Wanting to look great for Emilio, she'd taken extra care doing her hair and makeup, but despite her efforts, she still felt frumpy and unattractive. She stared at the walk-in closet, wishing she could wear one of the outfits he'd bought her instead of her boring gray cardigan and floral-print dress. But she feared he'd take one look at her in the white backless dress and bolt from their suite.

Hearing a knock on the door, she grabbed her purse off the bed and hustled across the room. The cottage had all the comforts of home and reminded Sharleen of a property she'd once seen on an episode of
Lifestyles of the Rich and
Famous
.

“Sharleen, are you ready? The limo just pulled up.”

Her palms were slick with sweat, but she opened the door and strode into the living room. Emilio switched off the TV and turned to face her. Disappointment flickered in his eyes, and his smile looked forced, as if it required every ounce of his strength. Hurt by his reaction, her shoulders sagged, and her spirits fell.

“You don't like my outfit,” she said quietly, fighting back tears. Crying was completely out of character, but his rejection stung. Emilio was important to her, and she always wanted to look her best for him. “I'll go change.”

His face softened. “Don't be silly. You look great. You always do.”

“I'm a big girl. I can handle it, so just spit it out. What's wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing, if you're going to Bible study.”

She didn't join in his laughter.

“Don't you like the outfits I bought for you?” he asked.

“Yes, of course, but they're too revealing for me. I prefer more conservative looks.”

“You have a great figure. You should show it off sometimes.” He winked, and a grin dimpled his cheek. “Especially when you're in Miami with me.”

“Emilio, I'm not one of your model ex-girlfriends. You can't expect me to—”

“Thank God for that,” he drawled, with a sigh of relief. “I've dated a lot of famous women, but none of them can hold a candle to you. You're in a league of your own.”

I am?
Sharleen found herself lost in the allure of his voice and his piercing gaze. It took all of her effort not to jump into his arms and kiss him all over. The more he spoke, complimenting and praising her, the more she desired him.

“You're genuine and considerate, and you don't give a damn about my celebrity status. That's just one of the many things I love about you. You always have my best interest at heart, and I trust you wholeheartedly.”

Love?
The word reverberated in her mind, made her dizzy and weak in the knees. Afraid her legs were going to buckle, she leaned against the mahogany desk for support. Was it true? Did Emilio love her? Or was this just a ploy to get her into bed?

“I want to show you off tonight.” His voice was a low, sensuous whisper, and lust shone in his eyes. “You're gorgeous, and I want the whole world to know that you're my girl.”

“Stop saying that. It isn't true... I'm not like other girls... I'm different.”

Emilio stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. “What are you talking about? You're beautiful inside and out.”

She couldn't look at him, didn't dare meet his gaze for fear of bursting into tears.

He clasped her hand, led her over to the leather reading chair in front of the window and pulled her down onto his lap. They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to birds squawk, the soothing sounds of the ocean and the raucous volleyball game happening on the beach.

“You're shaking.” Emilio wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Tell me what's bothering you. I want to help.”

I can't. You won't understand. No one
ever
does!

“Who convinced you that you're unworthy of love? Was it an abusive ex-boyfriend?”

Sharleen dropped her gaze to her lap and tugged at the sleeve of her cardigan.

“I'm not letting you go until we talk, so if you want to have dinner at the best Cajun restaurant in Miami, you better start talking.”

His joke, and the sympathetic expression on his face, eased the tension, lightened the mood. Still, she didn't speak. Her head hurt, and her stomach was curled into knots. Reluctantly, her heart pounding with fear, she took off her sweater. To her relief, Emilio didn't gasp or recoil in disgust at the sight of her scars.

“The doctors at Grady Memorial Hospital said it was a miracle I survived the fire, but when I saw the burns on my body, I wanted to die. I felt ugly, and I couldn't look in the mirror for weeks.”

Anguish filled his eyes. “You were in the house fire that killed your parents?”

“I feel asleep on the couch watching a movie and when I woke up the house was filled with smoke.” Bitter memories crowded her mind, overwhelming her with sadness. A chill whipped through the room, and she hugged her arms to her chest to ward off the cold. “I tried to crawl to the door, but it was hard to breathe, and I couldn't find my way out. A firefighter found me unconscious in the hallway and carried me outside to the ambulance.”

“You're the most courageous woman I know, and hearing your story makes me respect and admire you even more.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she conquered her emotions and spoke openly, without fear or restraint. She told Emilio about the weeks she'd spent in the hospital, her bouts with depression during her recovery and her disastrous dating history. “Men want perfection, and I'm not it,” she said sadly. “I got tired of being disappointed by the opposite sex, so I decided to focus on my career instead of my love life.”

“It sounds like you've given up on ever finding Mr. Right. Does that mean I don't stand a chance?”

This time Sharleen laughed, and it felt good. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and now that Emilio knew the truth about her past she didn't have to hide anymore. Knowing that he cared about her, in spite of her physical imperfections, meant everything to her.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard, and several seconds passed before she regained her voice. “Yes, once, a long time ago, but I was young and foolish. It didn't mean anything.”

“I'd like to hear about it.” His smile was full of sympathy and understanding. “What happened?”

Her heart ached when she remembered her sophomore year at Duke University. She wanted to change the subject, but knew there was no point trying to pull a fast one on Emilio. In the end, he'd persuade her to open up to him, so why bother? He radiated warmth and compassion, and Sharleen felt so at ease with him, so comfortable in his arms.

“I met Jarvis at the campus library, and we immediately hit it off. He was outgoing, from a great family and an old soul like me.”

Emilio leaned into her, tightened his hold around her waist.

“Five months later, we were talking about moving in together and eloping after graduate school. I was blissfully in love and anxious to become Mrs. Jarvis Bell.”

“How nice,” he grunted and clenched his teeth. “Your ex sounds like quite the charmer.”

He was, and if I hadn't been so gullible and naive I wouldn't have fallen for his lies.
Silencing her inner critic, she swallowed the lump at the back of her throat and willed herself not to cry. “Jarvis showed up unexpectedly at my dorm a few days before winter break, and I answered the door in a tank top and shorts. He looked mortified when he saw my scars and made up an excuse for why he had to leave.”

“Thank God you found out the truth about him before it was too late.”

Sharleen nodded, knew Emilio was right, but the memories of that day, and her ex-boyfriend's bitter rejection, still stung. “I was supposed to spend the holidays with Jarvis and his family in Maine, but he canceled my airline ticket the next day.” Her voice cracked with emotion, so she faked an everything-is-okay smile for Emilio's benefit. “He said his parents changed their minds about meeting me and suggested we take a break for a while. Jarvis stopped calling and avoided me like the plague for the rest of the year.”

“Baby, don't cry. He didn't deserve you, and you're better off without him.”

Sharleen gave him a bewildered look. Touching her cheeks, she was shocked to discover they were wet. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her cardigan. “Unfortunately, Jarvis wasn't the only guy repulsed by my scars, and after being rejected repeatedly, I gave up on ever finding love. It doesn't exist, and I feel stupid for wasting my time searching for—”

Emilio put a finger to her lips and shook his head. “Don't talk like that. I think you're desirable and sexy and that will never change.” He winked and added, “Not even when we're old and gray!”

Old and gray?
You want a future with me? Seriously?
Her head was spinning fast, out of control, and she couldn't stop shaking. Sharleen wanted to dance around the room to the song playing in her heart, but she told herself to relax. Despite her excitement, she sat silently, perfectly still, searching her heart for the courage to tell Emilio her
other
secret, the one no one knew but Jocelyn. She parted her lips and the truth fell out. “I'm a virgin.”

An amused expression covered his face. “So am I.”

“I've been on a lot of dates, but I've never met anyone I wanted to be intimate with. And I was too afraid they'd run for the hills after they saw my scars.”

“You're serious.” His eyes doubled in size, and his jaw dropped. “How is that possible? I see the way other guys look at you. They drool all over themselves!”

They do?
Sharleen couldn't put her feelings into words, didn't even try.

“I'm speechless. I don't know what to say...” Emilio's cell phone rang, but he ignored it. When it started up again seconds later, he took it out of his pocket, turned it off and chucked it on the sofa love seat. “That's better. Now, where were we?”

“I don't mind if you answer your phone.”

“I know, but I don't feel like talking to my sister.”

“It could be important,” she argued.

“Nothing is more important to me than being with you. This is our time alone together, and I don't want anyone to interrupt us.”

Sharleen couldn't hide the smile that overwhelmed her lips. Forgetting the pain of her past, she entwined her fingers with his and giggled when he nipped at her earlobe.

“There's a common misconception that all men care about is sleeping with as many women as possible, but it's not true. At least not for me,” he said. “I haven't had sex in years, and it suited me fine until
I met you. Now it's
all
I can think about.”

Sharleen was stunned, but she wore a blank expression on her face. Deciding to put all of her years of high school drama club to good use, she gasped and made her eyes big. “You've been celibate for years? How is that possible? I see the way other women look at you. They drool all over themselves!”

They laughed and held each other close, tighter than ever before. Nothing compared to being in his arms, to having his support.

“This isn't about sex. This is about us building a life together, and I want it all. Marriage, kids, family vacations to Disney World and romantic getaways to Monte Carlo.”