A Weekend of Misbehaving - Carmen Falcone Page 0,33
as long as she didn’t flash her nipple it would be okay, right? Last thing she wanted was to Janet Jackson the guests. Although the salon was air conditioned, sweat slicked her thighs. She’d chosen not to wear panties or the old-fashioned garment that came with the outfit. Not like anyone would notice beneath that heavy set of skirts.
The only one who would notice… She blushed, and her eyes skimmed the salon, searching for Lorenzo. She had been pampered, plucked, and massaged for hours, and now she sashayed into the party in full swing.
She touched her lavender wig and twirled her finger on one of the sideswept curls. Male guests smiled at her and bowed their heads when she passed them. She wanted to remember every detail to tell Brenda. Her niece would love to hear all about this fairy-tale party.
She played along and did a flirty curtsy, although her attention was caught by the gorgeous ice sculptures, the dresses the other women wore, and the amount of handsome men, many of them who could kick Brad Pitt to the curb.
One of them, however, was sexier than them all. In the middle of a small group, Lorenzo spoke in Italian, and the other men listened intently. She strolled his way, her stomach fluttering faster with every step. When his gaze pinned hers, a lump formed in her throat. She licked her lower lip. The several feet between them seemed to vanish, and the dozens of people faded into the background. A shot of adrenaline charged through her veins all the way to the back of her knees, which were wobbling. Inhaling, she willed them forward and inched toward him.
Without breaking the hypnotic stare for a second, he said something to the others, maybe excused himself, and they nodded, then resumed their chatter. In a blink, she faced him, her eyes trailing down the planes of his face, and stood mesmerized, like this was the first time they had seen each other.
“Mademoiselle Alice.” He offered her his arm, and she gave it a glance before snaking her arm in his. Why was he charming all of a sudden? And for how long would he be able to keep it up?
She curtsied. “Monsieur.”
“Would you care for macarons?” a waiter asked, and she accepted one of the pastries.
She closed her eyes and brought it to her lips. Hmmm… It tasted like a strawberry-flavored cloud. Light and crisp. When she opened her eyes, she licked the corner of her mouth and caught a hint of the sugary taste. What she also caught was Lorenzo’s stare. Squaring her shoulders, she coughed.
Never had he looked at her with so much resolve. Well, none of it was good, she could tell. Perhaps good sexually. But that was it. Still, a tremor went through her, and her blood shifted to a dangerous low simmer.
Shit. She knew wearing no panties had been a bad, bad idea. Pretty soon, her thighs would stick together. “These are good.” She injected an extra perkiness in her voice. “They’re the real deal. Not like that crap from the supermarket back home that tastes like artificially colored cookie dough.”
He looked at her like she was painted in gold. “Have as many as you’d like,” he added, then shook his head and his expression hardened again. With concern—she assumed. He always had something on his mind, didn’t he? The man’s facial expressions were often so grumpy it was hard to tell. “How was the spa this afternoon? What did Joan say to you?”
“She’s nice, actually. She asked me if I had brought any of my sketches with me, or if I had some kind of virtual portfolio to show.” Which she hadn’t, but added it to her list to put together. Man, how could she pass up an opportunity like that? According to Joan, her cousin was seeking plus-size, high-end clothes for a growing, demanding market.
“You don’t think she’s really interested in helping, do you?”
She drew back, hands perched on her waist. Not that she could take any more squeezes, what with her corset slowly killing her breath by breath. “Excuse me?”
“Listen, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. There’s a chance she’s only doing that to get you to like her, and she’ll use that to cement Paul’s chances to get ahead in the competition.”
Was he serious? Did the man always have to be so cynical? Her spine locked into place, her muscles a bunch of tension and disappointment. “She didn’t mention