Seduced by Mr. Right (9 page)

“Let's discuss how to invest your signing bonus.” Antwan sat down behind his desk and grabbed his Montblanc pen. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Pay off the tax bill, donate a million dollars to The Salvation Army and deposit the rest in my savings account.”

The pen fell from Antwan's hand.

Anticipating his reaction, Emilio waited for the moment to pass. Emilio felt as if he'd been given a second chance, a new lease on life, and this time around he wanted to use his wealth for good.

“You're punking me, right?” Antwan said, with a nervous laugh.

“It's my money, and I can spend it any way I see fit.”

“A million-dollar donation is outrageous. Give them a hundred grand. That's enough.”

“I wasn't asking your permission.”

Curses fell from Antwan's mouth, and the muscles in his neck pulsed and twitched. “As your business manager, it's my job to stop you from blowing your winnings. But if you continue to disregard my advice and keep spending lavishly, there's nothing I can do.”

“Spending lavishly?” Emilio repeated, baffled by his words. “I'm not buying a private island off the coast of Belize. I'm giving money to a worthy cause, and if you don't like it, that's too bad.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Do what you want, but don't say I didn't warn you.”

As casual as he could, he asked the question that had been circling his mind for weeks, the one he'd spoken to Sharleen about at length last night.

“When is the qualifying race for the World Series Racing All-Star Race? Is it too late to enter?”

Antwan's eyebrows rose.

“I think the race will be fun, and I'd love to work with my old pit crew again.”

Antwan pumped his fists in the air. “Yes! Finally! I
knew
Sharleen could do it!”

Emilio frowned. “You knew she could do what?”

“Help you rediscover your purpose in life, of course.” His eyes were filled with enthusiasm, and he was so excited he was rocking eagerly in his chair. “Being a race-car driver is in your DNA, what you were born to do, and you'll never be fulfilled doing anything else.”

To Emilio's surprise, he agreed with the statement, knew in his heart that it was true.

“I can't wait to share the good news on Twitter. Your fans are going to go wild.”

“You're getting way ahead of yourself.” Emilio stood. “I never said I was coming out of retirement, so don't post anything online. I'll compete in the All-Star Race, and if I place in the top three, I'll evaluate my options.”

“You'll win. You always do. Hell, they should just give you the trophy now!”

The men chuckled, then spent the next few minutes discussing the All-Star Race.

“Get in touch with your old pit crew,” Antwan advised. “You haven't been to the track in years, and it's going to take a while for you to get your skills back, so the more practice the better.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Emilio joked, pulling his car keys out of his back pocket.

“Where are you going? I haven't told you about negotiations with Nike—”

“Another time. I'm meeting Sharleen at three thirty, and I don't want to be late.”

Antwan's face fell, but he quickly recovered and nodded his head.

“Let me know when the contracts are in. We can review them together.”

“I will. Give my regards to Sharleen,” he said quietly. “Have fun.”

You can count on it,
Emilio thought, slipping on his sunglasses as he exited the office.
I'm spending the afternoon with a vibrant, vivacious woman, and one day soon she'll be my girlfriend.

Chapter 9

T
he sleek black helicopter climbed high above the trees and headed toward Atlanta. Sharleen wondered which one of Emilio's obscenely rich neighbors owned the gleaming chopper. Uncomfortable in confined spaces, she couldn't imagine ever being inside such a small aircraft, but suspected the view from above was breathtaking.
Probably,
her inner voice conceded.
But nothing beats spending the afternoon with Emilio.

Sharleen jogged beside Emilio on the winding trail, awed by the beauty around her. The air was perfumed with the scent of plants, exotic flowers and sweet-smelling herbs.

Pressing her eyes shut, she inhaled the fresh air. A sense of calm washed over her, instantly relaxed her. She loved feeling the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. But what she enjoyed most about being in Greensboro was hanging out with her favorite client.

Emilio is more than just a client
.
You like him more than you've ever liked anyone, and if he kissed you, you'd probably die of pleasure!

Stealing a glance at him, she felt her heart murmur inside her chest. Athletes had always been her weakness, and the tall, wickedly handsome race-car driver was everything she wanted in a man. The realization stunned her, but deep down in her heart she knew it was true. Her gaze slid down his physique. His fitted white T-shirt and black athletic shorts showcased a flat stomach, toned biceps and muscled legs. But it was his smoldering gaze that made her head spin time and time again. He had his nephew's face tattooed on his left biceps, and the adorable image made her smile. It took supreme effort, but she peeled her eyes away from his chiseled body and asked about his morning meeting. “How did it go? Did you make a decision about the All-Star Race?”

Emilio told her about his argument with Antwan, his new blockbuster deal with Ferrari and his hour-long conversation with his pit crew. “We're practicing tomorrow at the Atlanta Motor Speedway, and I want you to be there. You're my good-luck charm, and my crew is anxious to meet you.”

“They are? Why? What did you tell them?”

“Nothing—just that I'd met the girl of my dreams.”

Sharleen gave a shaky laugh. She couldn't tell if Emilio was serious or pulling her leg, but convinced herself it was the latter. Normally, she ignored clients who flirted with her, but that strategy wasn't working with Emilio. If anything, his teasing made her desire him even more.

“I need you to be at my first practice.”

His words surprised her, made her realize how much he'd changed in the past three weeks. Instead of moping around the house, he was attending social events, volunteering at outreach programs and making plans for the future. He was even actively looking for ways to honor his nephew's memory. Sharleen had encouraged him to attend meetings at the clinic, and to her surprise, he was always the first one to arrive. He didn't talk during group sessions, but he admitted that hearing other people's stories made him feel less lonely. These days, Emilio was fun to be around, and everyone from his publicist to his physical trainer was thrilled about the positive changes he'd made in his life.

“Are you listening or fantasizing about me again?” he teased. “Don't try and deny it, because I can see the truth in your pretty brown eyes.”

Sharleen parted her lips to speak and tripped over her tongue. She was mortified that she'd lost her composure again and inwardly chastised herself for letting her nerves get the best of her.

Emilio had a hold on her she just couldn't explain, and the more she fought their attraction the stronger it was. It was times like this, when he was flirting with her, that she remembered he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the nation. Unlike the guys she'd casually dated in the past, he made her feel special and seemed to get a kick out of spoiling her. He had flowers delivered to her office, treated her to lunch at trendy eateries and lavished her with time and attention. It was hard not to think wanton thoughts when he flashed his trademark grin at her, but Sharleen was determined to keep her cool. Her reputation and the vice-president position were at stake, and she'd worked too damned hard to watch her career go up in smoke. And she had to land the VP position so she could persuade her boss to fire Brad and rehire Jocelyn. Her best friend still hadn't found a job, and she was growing more discouraged each day.

“I'll pick you up at nine o'clock, so we can drive down together.”

“Emilio, I can't. I'm going with a client to Raleigh tomorrow and I won't be back until Thursday.”

“What's in North Carolina?”

“My client is attending a funeral and wanted me there for emotional support.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is your client male or female?”

“Female. Why?”

“Just checking,” he said, with a wink. “Do you routinely travel with clients?”

“Sometimes. It depends on the situation.”

“I'm glad to hear that, because I'm going to Miami over Memorial Day weekend, and I want you to come. Antwan wants me to attend the Exotic Car Show—”

“It's not about what Antwan wants. It's about what
you
want.”

“I'm psyched about going to Miami, but...” He broke off speaking and expelled a deep breath. “I haven't been to any public events since Lucca died, and even though I'm excited about reconnecting with my fans, I'm nervous, too.”

“That's understandable, but try not to worry. Your fans adore you,
especially
the female ones, and I'm sure they'll welcome you back with open arms.”

“I can't go without you, Sharleen. I need you by my side...”

His words sounded poetic, like the lyrics to a love song, and his dreamy accent made her feel light-headed. That was why going out of town with him was out of the question. There was no telling what would happen in Miami, and she didn't want to lose her job
or
her heart to him. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she said, “I'll check my schedule, and I'll get back to you in a few days.”

“Why don't you save yourself the time and trouble and say yes now?”

Because I hate hot weather, scantily dressed women flaunting their perfect bodies and pool parties. I never know what to wear, and I don't want to feel self-conscious about my—

“Do you want me to call your boss and ask her permission?”

“That's not...um...”

Emilio lifted the bottom of his shirt, exposing his abs, and wiped the sweat from his face. Sharleen's brain turned to mush. Seeing his bare chest caused her body to tingle and quiver. Her sexual urges were powerful, unlike anything she'd experienced. Staring at him, she envisioned them kissing, could almost taste and feel his mouth against hers.

“I'll call Mrs. Fontaine tomorrow and square things with her.”

Sharleen snapped out of her thoughts. “No, please don't. That won't be necessary.”

“Great, then I'll have my assistant finalize our travel arrangements.” His smile returned, blazed so bright it made the sun look dull. “You'll have your own room at my cottage at Fisher Island resort and plenty of time to shop at the malls and boutiques.”

“Are you spending the entire weekend at the car show?”

Emilio shook his head. “No. I'll be busy romancing you.”

Sharleen swallowed hard, told herself he was just teasing her. She considered her options, thoroughly weighed the pros and cons of going out of town with Emilio. Mrs. Fontaine was going to make a decision about the VP position at the end of the month, and she didn't want to ruin her chances of landing the job by upsetting her boss. It was better not to rock the boat. “Sometimes you can be
so
difficult,” she teased, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Do you always have to get your way?”

“Yes, Ms. Nichols, as a matter of fact, I do.”

He leaned into her, got so close their arms were touching.

“Do you know what I want right now?” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he licked his lips with deliberate slowness, as if his sole purpose in life was to arouse her with his tongue. “She's tall and curvy and smells like jasmine.”

Desire surged through her veins, made her heart hammer inside her chest. Afraid she'd fall victim to lust, she turned to admire the lily pond, instead of Emilio's juicy lips. “This is an amazing view,” she said. “Do you jog down here often?”

“No, but now that I have you to keep me company I'll be getting out a lot more.”

“No way, José! Count me out. This is the last time I let you talk me into going for a jog,” she said. “I'm so tired I could lie down on the grass and fall asleep!”

Emilio cracked up. “Don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing great.” He looked her over, took his time appraising her. “And you look gorgeous, too.”

“Right,” she drawled, swatting at the pesky flies buzzing around her. “Sweat is
real
sexy.”

“Not sweat, per se, but you certainly are.”

A girlish grin exploded onto her lips, a smile so wide it made her jaw ache. “I thought Stiletto Aerobics was hard, but it's a piece of cake compared to this.”

“Stiletto Aerobics? Sounds erotic. How about a demonstration after lunch?”

To her surprise, his words excited her, turned her on. Her breasts ached for his touch, her nipples hardened under her long-sleeve shirt and a delicious shudder ripped through her body. Sharleen wanted to pounce on him, to kiss him shamelessly, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to devour him. “Emilio, you don't have to cook for me every time I come over.”

“Yes, I do. The quickest way to a woman's heart is through her stomach, and I'm hoping you'll profess your undying love after you taste my lobster risotto.”

“My, my, aren't we ambitious.”

“Well, I
did
win three World Series Racing championships.”

“Relationships aren't a competitive sport.”

“Tell that to my ex-girlfriend.” His smile disappeared. “She loved playing mind games, and I never knew where I stood with her...”

I'd never treat you like that,
Sharleen thought, gazing at his handsome profile.
If you were my man I'd be open and honest, and I'd tell you I love you every single day.

“Most of the women I hooked up with in the past were more interested in the glamorous lifestyle than me, but I was too busy blowing through my earnings to care,” he confessed. “But at this point in my life, I'm ready to have a family and kids, and I won't settle for less.”

I'd love to have your babies.
The thought shocked Sharleen, and for the second time in minutes, goose bumps pricked her skin.

They jogged through the neighborhood, along the lake and past the park.
Jokes flew, laughter abounded and their conversation flowed smoothly from one topic to the next. Sharleen coached other celebrities, but no one made her laugh like Emilio. He had great stories, and his dry wit made her crack up time and time again. She'd probably never go zip-lining in Costa Rica, or paragliding in Tanzania, but she enjoyed hearing about his adventures abroad. Two hours passed, but she was having so much fun with Emilio that she didn't want to go home. “Where do you go when you want to get away from everything?” she asked. “Venice? Sydney? Maui?”

“No, Monte Carlo. Have you ever been?”

Sharleen shook her head. “No, never, but I'd love to visit there one day.”

“When you're ready to make the trip, we'll fly there in the Morretti private jet.”

“What's so special about Monte Carlo?”

“They call it the playground of the rich, but there's more to the city than just fast cars, fine dining and million-dollar yachts. I love the museums, the striking architecture and the extreme sports, of course.”

“You won your first World Series Racing championship in Monte Carlo.”

Emilio wore a sheepish smile. “You read my bio.”

“A good life coach always does.”

The estate came into view, and Sharleen sighed in relief.

“Do you want to take a break, or would you like to keep going?”

“No way. I'm exhausted, and my legs are killing me. I may pass out right here!”

He stopped abruptly. His gaze was full of longing, and his mouth was just inches away from her face. “What can I do to help?”

You mean besides kissing me passionately?

The air around them was electrified, charged with sexual tension. Sharleen had never had such strong feelings for someone and wondered how much longer she could fight their attraction. These days, Emilio was all she could think of. It didn't matter if she was job hunting with Jocelyn or puttering around in her garden—thoughts of him overwhelmed her mind. Emilio proved that nice guys still existed, that all men weren't dogs, and she loved being with him.

“I'd do anything for you. You know that, right?” Emilio said.

He reached out and brushed his fingers ever so gently against her cheeks. Pleasure shot straight to her core, tickled and teased her flesh.

“Do you want me to carry you back to my estate?”

“Let's not and say we did,” she said with a laugh. “In case you haven't noticed, I'm a curvy woman,
not
a toothpick, and I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

His stare was bold, penetrating. Emilio didn't speak, didn't utter a word, but if looks could kill she'd be six feet under. Sharleen gulped.
What did I do wrong?
Why is he mad at me?

The tense moment lasted for only a few seconds, but it felt as if hours had passed.

Emilio broke the silence, and his voice was hollow, cold as ice. He didn't yell at her, but his disappointment was evident. “You're an incredibly smart woman, but I swear, sometimes you say the craziest things.”

Sharleen narrowed her eyes and hitched a hand to her hip. “Who are you calling crazy?”