Bowles, Jan - Claimed for the Master's Pleasure [Guilty Pleasures 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (5 page)

He breathed in, then said more calmly, “May I call you Lia?”

“No, you may not.”

He smiled broadly for the first time that day. He had perfect teeth. “Lia, please believe me, I’m sorry for the way things have turned out.”

“Sorry? You’re not sorry at all.” She knew her words carried venom. “You make the excuse that certain things are beyond your control. According to you, everything comes down to profit and keeping your shareholders happy. But I don’t believe that for a moment. I can see that you’re clearly your own man, and could easily write off the debt if you really wanted to.”

They drove along in total silence for a few minutes. She absently glanced through the window as the car sped down the Strip. Casinos littered both sides of the road. Very quietly, in almost a whisper, she said, “Funny how Vegas looks so gray and dreary during the day.”

“Vegas is a nighttime, good-time city. It can be a city of dreams. So many ordinary people working for minimum wage want to change their lives. That’s why they play the slots and the tables. They hope that maybe, just maybe, they can hit the jackpot. Even when they lose, most of them still enjoy the glitz and the glamour, and the sense of occasion we offer.”

“The slots in your establishment didn’t look remotely glamorous to me when we just walked past them.”

“You need to see the tables. That’s where the thinking gamblers tend to congregate. The slots are just pure luck, most of it the casino’s.”

Lia shook her head. “I just can’t see it. Wasting all that money, and for what?”

“They’re paying for the buzz, the thrill and excitement. People don’t always have to win to enjoy themselves.”

“Mr. Benetti, I was brought up to believe that hard work was the key to a better life. Not simply sticking a dollar in a slot and hoping to become a millionaire. I’m sorry, I can’t change the habit of a lifetime. It’s just the way I am. In my opinion casinos are crass, seedy joints that should be closed down to save gullible people from themselves.”

“Jesus, lady, you should hear yourself.” Jake shook his head and chuckled. “You’re a grown woman. You don’t need your parents’ permission anymore. When you’ve been inside a casino, that’s when you can make those kind of judgments, and not before.”

“I’ve just seen the inside of yours, and I didn’t like it.”

“You’ve seen jack shit, lady.” She heard the annoyance in his voice.

He took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself as the limo pulled up outside her home. Jake turned in his seat and looked at her. His pale blue eyes were piercing in their intensity. “Lia, I truly liked your father, and out of respect for him, I’m gonna look once more at the paperwork, to see if there’s anything I can do to cut your losses. On one condition, mind.”

“Which is?”

“That you have dinner with me tonight at the casino restaurant. I’ll show you around. It’ll give you a better understanding as to why your father spent so much time there.”

Had Jake Benetti just given her a lifeline? Maybe she’d made him realize that actions had consequences. The cynic inside her knew it would probably amount to nothing, yet she’d be a fool to turn him down. After all, it was only dinner. It wasn’t like he was making a pass. The guy hardly looked at her. From the photograph he’d shown her in the office, her father seemed to actually like him. Perhaps she should give him a chance.

Realizing for the first time that he might be trying to help her, she answered matter-of-factly, “Dinner will be good.” Without another word, she started to slip from the car.

He touched her arm, briefly halting her progress. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

When she reached her front door, she turned and looked. A flash of silver glinted in the sunlight as the stretch limo disappeared around the corner. A small thread of hope seemed to be drawing them together. She had to admit Jake Benetti was an extremely good looking and charismatic man, but she still didn’t like or trust him.

Chapter Six

Later that evening

When his driver turned the car onto Mount Drive, the street where Lia lived, Jake had to admit he was looking forward to seeing her again.

He shook his head. Goddamn it, who was he kidding. He’d barely thought of anything else. The entire day he’d relived their meeting over and over in his head. It was a wonder he’d managed to do any work. Madeline had noticed that he’d had something on his mind, but then she never did miss a trick.

Jake felt his pulse quicken as the car drew to a halt outside her home. He desperately needed to see her again. Did she really look like Hannah, or had he just imagined it all?

The brick-faced, double-fronted property looked imposing, very much like the home owned by Jeff Bridges in the film
Arlington Road
. Pretty, white-painted windows sat on either side of a neat porch with white marble pillars, while the well-groomed yard gently sloped down to the road. Fred Constantine had done well for himself, considering he’d only run a grocery store. For a moment he wondered why the guy had bet so heavily and lost it all. Whatever, he’d left a shitload of debt for his daughter to clean up.

Anyway, for some reason he didn’t yet understand himself, he’d offered Lia a lifeline. He had to do something. Knowing that he had the power to take everything she owned made him feel guilty as hell. If there was any way to salvage some of her inheritance, then he would.

Jake shook his head as he stepped from the car. See what had happened by becoming emotionally involved? Fred Constantine had been a friend. By meeting his daughter face-to-face to ease the situation, he’d humanized the debt. This was something he’d never done before.

“Wait here. I’ll just be a few minutes, Tony,” he instructed his driver as he began walking up the drive. The porch light cast a soft, homely glow over the ground, guiding his way. The small stones crunched satisfyingly under his shoes. It was a nice feeling, one that brought back happy memories of when Hannah was still alive. His thoughts drifted to their home out in Summerlin. Their property sat high on a ridge with breathtaking views over Vegas. He hadn’t set foot there since Hannah died. He preferred to live in his penthouse suite, conveniently located on the fiftieth floor of his casino. Occasionally, he’d send one of his men over to the house, to check that everything was okay. He just hadn’t had the heart to sell it. Not when they’d shared so many wonderful, precious times together. Three years ago the house had been mothballed along with his life.

No sooner had he rang the bell than Lia opened the door. She wore a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. He hadn’t been dreaming. Lia still looked like Hannah—every dammed beautiful inch of her.

Her chin jutted out defensively. “I know I’m running a little late, but before you say anything, I worked for an extra hour today to make up for the time I was in your office. My boss wasn’t very impressed with me, so I offered to take the last aerobics class of the day.”

“If it’s my fault, then I can’t complain.”

“Good.” For a moment she just stood there looking at him. “I really should make you wait outside, considering you want to take this house away from me, but I just can’t be bothered fighting any more. It’s bad for my emotional constitution.”

She led the way to the living room. “Take a seat. There’s some of father’s liquor on the coffee table. He was a bourbon man, in moderation, of course. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he said as she walked quickly from the room. Even from behind she reminded him so much of Hannah. Goddamn it, her ass swayed so fucking sexily.

Jake turned his attention to less provocative thoughts, and studied his surroundings. The room was conservatively furnished. Modest, even. That figured. Fred Constantine was a regular guy.

On the walls hung a selection of family portraits. Many depicted Lia as she was growing up. She was certainly a cute kid, who had grown into a beautiful woman.

Taking pride of place on the mantelpiece were two large, framed photographs. He immediately recognized Fred Constantine, with a woman. He guessed from the striking resemblance to Lia that it was her mother. The other photograph looked strangely familiar. He picked it up and studied the man. He looked to be a similar age to himself, mid- to late-thirties.

“That’s Joe.” Without realizing it, Lia had walked up behind him. She took the photograph from him and placed it back down on the shelf. Her fingers lingered on the gilt frame. “He was my fiancé. We were both involved in a bad car crash. It was a head-on collision. He died. That’s why I moved back in with dad. With a broken leg and pelvis, and all the emotional trauma, I just couldn’t cope.”

That was it. Jake recalled that the guy’s picture had been all over the papers and the local news. Her father had never mentioned it. It must have been Fred Constantine’s way of separating his two lives.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he eventually said. “It must have been a hard blow.”

“It was, and still is.” Lia lifted her chin and held his gaze. She was obviously a proud woman. He saw the emotion welling in her green eyes. “But as someone who’s never known pain, Mr. Benetti, you couldn’t possibly hope to understand what it’s like.” Her words were harsh and designed to hurt.

“Oh, believe me, I know all about pain,” he answered bitterly.

“Oh?”

“My wife died three years ago. I miss her like hell. She meant the world to me.” For some reason he found it easy to open up to her. Why? He never spoke about Hannah’s death even to his closest friends. Maybe he just wanted to prove that he’d had a heart—once.

Lia nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was thoughtless of me.” She placed her hand on his. “Perhaps we do have something in common after all.”

Their eyes connected. They were strangers, but their pain and trauma bound them together like nothing else could. “Maybe we’ll be best friends by the end of the week,” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

Lia smiled, such a pretty smile. “I wouldn’t go as far as that, Mr. Benetti, but it’s a start. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I’ve said too much already,” he answered quietly. The empathy they briefly shared quickly disappeared with his darkening mood.

Lia didn’t seem to take offense. Instead she just said softly, “Still hurts, huh?”

She led the way out to the hallway and picked up a black purse from the stand. It matched the simple black cocktail dress that she wore. Jake had to admit she looked stunning. Her gorgeous blonde hair flowed freely around her shoulders and cascaded down the middle of her back. Matching silver jewelry adorned her wrist, ankle, and neck. It was a very classy combination.

“Shall we go, Mr. Benetti?”

He held open the front door, and she stepped through, invading his space with her presence, overwhelming him with her sensual perfume. “Lia, we’re going to be having dinner together. Can’t you call me Jake?”

She looked at him covertly as they walked toward the waiting car. “Very well, just so long as you’re genuine about helping me with my father’s debt.”

“I’ll do all I can, Lia. When you get to know me better, you’ll understand that I don’t make false promises.”

Tony held the limo door open for her. “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Good evening.”

Jake watched her slide effortlessly into the car, her long, slim legs crossing neatly at the ankle as she made herself comfortable. He’d always admired elegance in a woman, and Lia had it in spades.

Tony moved around the car and opened the passenger door for him before taking the driver’s seat once more. By the end of the evening, Jake hoped to give Lia a better understanding of casinos.

Chapter Seven

Arabian Nights Casino looked so different at night. Even Lia had to admit it had a certain visual appeal. When their driver eventually drew the limo up outside, the casino complex seemed to come to life with neon lights, palm trees, and fountains decorating the lush garden area.