Chapter 56

I finally appraise myself in the mirror: smoky-eyed makeup, flawless full red lips, killer blush on my perfectly made-up face, and, of course, my see-through slip dress over the black lace lingerie, which has pushed and perked everything up. The high-cut lines and seductive contouring make my body look awesome. I’ve finished it all off with lace-edged black stockings, a garter belt, and a look on my face of pure unadulterated lust.

I slide my feet into the black stilettos I take everywhere like a security blanket and spritz perfume across my bulging cleavage. This bra does me wonders; my straining breasts spill seductively above the low-cut slip dress, and I bronze between them to enhance them even more.

Can always use a little extra help.

The thong panties show clearly under the shimmering dress; everything is made for seduction, and I’m mighty pleased with myself.

Look at you go, girl.

I pick up my phone with a smile. I’ve been up here for about an hour and a half now, and there isn’t much time before dinner tonight. According to Sylvana, most of the guests change into formal attire to eat. So, if I ask Jake to zip me up, he will assume I’m dressing for dinner. Standing in the center of the room, my blonde hair extra wild and falling over one eye, one hand on my hip as I pose, I text him and wait.

~I need your assistance in zipping up my dress for dinner and your opinion on whether I’m underdressed. Xxx.~

My dress for dinner is lying across the bed, so if I fail at my ‘before dinner seduction’, it will be easy to pull over what I’m wearing, leaving him with a clear image throughout the meal. The dress is one of his favorites, classy, black, and tight. However, I’m betting on succeeding and skipping dinner altogether.

After a few minutes, he walks in, adjusting a cufflink, and pauses, seeing me standing sexily, legs apart, hands on hips, jutting out my bust toward him with a look of ‘fuck me’ on my face. He regards me up and down slowly, his stance physically changing to show his immediate apprehension, and I see the confidence waver in his eyes. I’ve at least thrown him, so I give myself a point for that.

Saying nothing, he moves past me, his eyes unable to tear free. He goes and picks my dress off the bed and holds it out to me from a distance. His face is such a picture of confusion it makes me inwardly smile.

“Maybe I need help putting it on.” I bite my lip seductively, and his mouth parts in response; he sighs heavily. Those green eyes are dark and heavy. He can’t conceal his longing from me.

Casanova Carrero, where have you gone?

He looks almost nervous, like a tongue-tied teen. I’m waiting as he starts to fumble with the dress. He seems ready to combust. He’s never met overly sexual and forward Emma. I’m kind of liking her.

Was it really not long ago that all sex was abhorrent to me, and I kept everyone at a firm distance? Look at me now!

“Sure.” He swallows hard and holds up the dress to find the shoulders as he tries to figure out how to drape it on me. He has already changed into a dark shirt and pants, looking devastating as always, with freshly styled hair. I wonder when he came in here to get a change of clothes, possibly when I was showering.

He walks forward, lowering the dress and holding it open for me to step into. His eyes skim me achingly as he pulls it up my body and over the tight mesh slip dress, carefully keeping his hands from touching me.

He doesn’t trust himself to touch me. Another point for me.

As we’re so close now, I notice his breathing is much shallower than normal, and his eyes are dilated; he’s almost ripping my clothes off mentally. I give myself a little internal applause. When he gets to face height, I lean forward smoothly and open my lips mere millimeters from him.

I see him stop.

He doesn’t move, just waits, anticipating my kiss. His eyes are heavily focused on my mouth, every muscle in his face pausing and waiting, and that overwhelming lust radiates from his expression. I tilt my head, gently breathe on his soft mouth and linger achingly close, inhaling and heating up with his closeness. It makes me ache badly, and my fingers are almost itching to touch him. I swear he holds his breath for a moment, his head moving forward a touch as his desire to kiss me grows. I pull away with a smile.

“Don’t want to ruin my lipstick.” I feign innocence, basking in the sight of the furrow on his brow. He pulls the dress the rest of the way up with attitude. His eyes narrow, and he spins me, zipping me up a little forcefully and smacking me hard on my ass.

“Ouch,” I yelp and move away from him quickly. A storm starts brewing in his delicious face, and I can see his body stiffening and his muscles tensing.

“Dinner is going to be interesting,” he growls huskily; I can tell I have more than thrown him. He’s possibly about to self-implode.

“Sure, you don’t just want to sign the contract and admit defeat, bambina?” He moves close to me this time, his mouth even closer than I dared.

I shake my head as I watch him, our eyes locked. His hand trails my leg lazily, skimming the tight dress until he grazes my breast and ignites the usual sizzling response in me. His hand, feather-light, makes its way to my jaw until I’m almost breathless with its journey. He pulls me forward for the softest kiss of my life, his lips barely brushing mine, moving into me further, teasing and grazing. His hand skims along my jaw softly as his other comes to cup the other side. It’s soft and sensual kissing that contrasts every signal he’s sending off right now.

Moving deeper into my mouth, he teases my lips open with the sheer strength of seduction. He kisses me gently, easing in slowly to a more passionate motion. His tongue slips across my bottom lip and tentatively touches mine. As kisses go, he’s never hit me with the expertise of this make-out session. This is a different kind of assault, a new tactic with sheer softness.

Soon I’m fully wrapped around him, dragging his arms to me to try and push the kiss further. I’m completely panting, surprised at how much he’s turned me on in a matter of seconds. Still locked together, tongues still caressing, and lips molded together, I am so close to surrender. If he had a pen, I would sign the contract while still being kissed this way. Jake knows exactly how to weaken me. He doesn’t need words or his body; he can always do it with a kiss.

Realizing that is exactly his plan, I pull away sharply, heaving in the air and trying to steady myself against him. He sucks in his bottom lip seductively, eyeing me with satisfaction, tasting me, and smiles, his mouth stained with my red color.

“Your lipstick tastes good. Pity it now looks pretty fucked-up.” He lets go of me the way you would drop a piece of trash and smirks before walking off toward the door, that look of ‘strike two’ on his face. Raging internally, I turn to the mirror to face the mess of my mouth and grit my teeth. He did this because I refused to kiss him on the pretense of ruining my lipstick, and now it’s so smeared and smudged that I have no alternative but to wipe it off and start again or go without. He’s made a mess of all of the makeup around my mouth. He grabs for tissues to wipe off the berry-shade evidence of his assault as he leaves with a whistle and a slight bounce to his walk. I just played right into his hands for the second time.

Asshole! He’s just too damned good at this!

He had me so close to giving in, and he didn’t even know it; as I become aware of this fact, my inner strength kicks in.

Well, that was my one weak moment, and from now on, I will strengthen my resolve. If he’s playing dirty, I intend to play dirty, too. Fight fire with fire.

***

I emerge twenty minutes later, the stains replaced with a sheer gloss instead, and make my way to the huge, opulent dining room, sliding in beside him at the table amid the arrival of some of the others. He’s using his phone and completely ignores me. I bristle, knowing this isn’t a normal Jake move, but I’m not going to let it get to me; I’m going to act like I don’t care and sit down. I stop myself from looking at him, despite the impulse to eye up how gorgeous he always looks.

As soon as everyone is seated, he puts his phone away, leans back in his chair, and places an arm across the back of mine while throwing me a triumphant look. I notice that his father, sitting very still, is watching us from a distance at the head of the huge dark wood table. I had managed to avoid him until now, but dinner will be interesting. I get the distinct impression Giovanni is not all that enamored with his son hooking up with an employee from his own office, especially a nobody with no fortune and a troubled past.

“You can still back out now, bambina. Then we can enjoy dinner and a lot of fun after.” Jake nudges me quietly, commanding my attention, his eyes steady on my face. He drops his gaze to my mouth and smirks some more at the lack of red lipstick. It only ignites my inner stubbornness.

“Why would I? You’re obviously struggling, Jake. I’m sure if it’s too hard, you can admit defeat.” I smile salaciously and turn my attention to my champagne glass, running my finger around the rim teasingly. He watches me with interest for a moment, then gets up with a smile.

“I told Cara I would sit beside her tonight.” He smirks cruelly at me, then saunters off to the seat beside the girl, receiving an award-winning smile from her. I almost inwardly curl up and tremble. Nausea and anxiety equally consume my stomach with a tight gut-wrenching throb as jealousy punches its way into my gut.

What is he doing? Surely Jake would not do this to me for the sake of a stupid challenge?

Arrick appears in the doorway and immediately sits next to me, greeting me with a warm hello and no sense of surprise at all. I try to smile, but it doesn’t come naturally.

“Don’t worry about Cara,” he says, leaning into me conspiringly. “She wouldn’t know what to do with someone like Jake, and he only has eyes for you, mia cara.” He nudges me with his shoulder, and this time I genuinely smile at his kindness and the family trait of mixing English and Italian, something they all seem to do.

“You’re not worried if your girlfriend tries to run off with your brother?” I pout, keeping my eyes away from Jake, who’s engrossed in his deep conversation with his devoted fan. Cara is almost drooling over him.

Slut!

“Nah, Jake would never do that to you or me. Besides, Cara isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just a passing interest.” He studies my shocked face. “I’m more like my brother than you realize, and, yes, he told me you two have some sort of bet going…abstaining from sex until one of you breaks.” He winks and picks up his glass. “I suggest you play him at his own game; Jake hates to lose, but he does love the thrill of the challenge.”

“What do you mean?” I glance over and see Jake sprawled effortlessly in his seat, commanding not only Cara’s attention but also the quiet brunettes that came with his other cousin too, both fluttering lashes and smiling at him coquettishly. He’s in full flirt mode, demanding adoration with ease.

For God’s sake!

“You have a table of virile young men to charm and a face pretty enough to do it.” He pats my hand and sits back as his appetizer is laid before him. I lean back as my plate of asparagus spears, boiled egg, and hollandaise sauce piled delicately on top is placed before me by one of the uniformed maids. I smile warmly at her and get one in return, catching Jake from the corner of my eye and thanking the girl who gave him his food. Stupidly, I smile internally and push it back down.

“I’m not Jake,” I say, turning back to my dinner mate. “Commanding the attention of the opposite sex isn’t my style.”

Arrick would be unaware that most men still make me feel uncomfortable despite how I am with Jake. Arrick seems to be an exception, though sitting with him now, I couldn’t feel more at ease. I guess it’s because he is enough like Jake to feel relaxed around; something about him, much like his brother, makes me feel safe.

“You know Jake better than most, Emma… You know how to push his buttons and throw him off his game. Use what you know. You obviously have an influence over him that no one else can even come close to.” He smiles and tucks into his food while I sit and look at my plate, pondering his words. Arrick is a wise one; he has that quick Carrero mind and that flawless confidence. He is one to watch in the coming years as he comes into his manhood. Jake may have a competitor within the family business with this one.