by Mandy Rosko
Was it rude to ask something like that? Isla wasn’t sure, but she needed to ask after seeing all of this.
She watched Martina smile again through the mirror. “This is a skill that rarely gets used, so when it does, I am happy to be of service.”
“That must be a killer resume. You went to hair styling school so Arturo might have someone to do his hair?”
Martina laughed. “No, he knows how to wash his own hair and pull it back. He rarely wears it differently than that ponytail you see on him.”
Isla thought about that ponytail, and her entire body warmed up from the inside out, starting down at her sex.
“I noticed,” she said, and did her absolute best to not look at Martina in the mirror.
She thought she saw the woman smiling out of the corner of her eye. Great.
But then Isla got lost in what Martina was doing to her. It was like a mini trip to the salon. She sprayed Isla’s hair to keep the curling iron from damaging it, and then painstakingly pulled it back, up, and around so that Isla was left with something that looked a lot like a French twist, but a little on the messier side.
The type of messy that was purposely done, with locks of curled hair leaving the twist to frame her face. Isla had only ever looked like this after visiting a salon and paying a ton of money, and to make things even better, Martina also had her soak her fingers so she could trim her cuticles and buff her nails.
“There’s not enough time to paint them or give a proper manicure. Luckily, you have very healthy fingernails.
“Yeah,” Isla said, looking down at her nails, already very impressed with what was there.
“You’re a miracle worker. Are you sure you didn’t go to school for this?”
Martina shook her head, though it was clear the praise was making her preen. “I had many sisters. I was always the one to do their makeup for them and their nails. I have much hands-on practice, though I did want to go to school for it. I still might. Arturo thinks I have a talent for this.”
Isla was so caught up in what Martina had been saying about her family and that she might go to beauty school, that for a few seconds, she missed the part where Martina explained that she’d had sisters, as in not anymore.
Isla bit her lips together to keep herself from doing something stupid, like asking what had happened to them. It wasn’t her business, and Martina probably hadn’t even meant to share that detail with her. It was too private for someone she barely knew.
Martina didn’t seem to notice that she’d let anything slip. “Would you like me to do your makeup, Miss King?”
“Sure, and call me Isla.”
She didn’t want Martina to feel like she had to be formal with her, especially not after something like that was just revealed.
Martina smiled and nodded as she got to work applying primers and concealers and lipstick.
Isla turned her eyes from time to time to look at her progress in the mirror. It didn’t feel like Martina was putting a lot on her, but her face was starting to look amazing. Like she’d been photoshopped amazing.
Martina didn’t need any schooling. She needed to open up her own beauty salon and charge top dollar for people to get into it. She was good.
When Martina finished, Isla put on her necklace, her earrings, and her bracelet. Suddenly, they didn’t seem so small and cheap now in comparison to the dress she wore. They looked like they’d been made for the dress itself.
Martina surveyed her work with a pleased expression on her face.
“Do you think Arturo will approve?” Isla asked.
Martina’s lips pulled up at the corner in a wry smile. “What matters is what you approve of.”
“Oh, of course. I meant that, too.”
“Do you?”
Isla looked at herself in the mirror. “Very much so, yes.”
She was tempted to get professional photos done of herself looking like this. She might get picked up by a modeling agency if she looked like this all the time.
“Good, thank you for that,” Martina said. “And yes, Arturo will most definitely approve. He has an appreciation for lovely ladies, and although you were always a lovely young woman, I doubt he’ll be able to take his eyes off you.”
“Thank you.” Isla was still not too sure how she felt about all of this.
It was strange that, even after a day, she was already starting to get used to all of this.
“Very good, this way, please,” Martina said. She pulled back Isla’s chair so she could stand, handed her a clutch bag, and then walked with her out of her room and down the hall.
Martina put her hand on Isla’s shoulder, and they stopped before they could enter the foyer, where Arturo was probably waiting.
“What is it?” Isla asked.
The lines around Martina’s eyes and mouth seemed more pronounced all of a sudden, and there was something in the woman’s eyes that Isla couldn’t quite place.
“I must ask something of you, Miss King. Something I have no right to ask.”
“Okay, but I said you could call me Isla.”
Martina shook her head. “Not when I make an important request of you.”
Arturo called her Miss King when he was irritated with something, and it seemed Martina would do that very same thing whenever something was worrying her.
“Okay, not problem. Tell me what it is, and I’ll do it.”
Martina’s chest swelled as she took in a deep breath. “I must ask that you not hurt Mr. Calendri.”
Isla blinked. “I… what?”
Martina stared at her as though waiting for her to understand. Isla couldn’t understand. “He has me under contract to stay in his house with him, to have sex with him to get my family’s business back, and you’re worried about me hurting him?”
She couldn’t hold back her anger, the outrage that built up inside of her when she made her conclusions. Isla clenched her fists. She wasn’t about to hit the woman, but she also couldn’t stop her body from clenching up like that. She could hardly contain it.
Martina shook her head. “It’s not quite as simple as that. You are still here of your own free will, yes?”
“I don’t care. Why would you say that to me?”
All those talks Isla had with herself about how this was her decision, about how she was taking command of herself and her own body and sexual nature by agreeing to be here, completely flew out the window. She realized Martina thought of her precious Arturo as the one who was getting the bad deal out of this whole thing.
That, she couldn’t stand for. It was so insulting.
“Please do not misunderstand, Miss King. I know of the nature of your agreement with Mr. Calendri, but you are unaware of the reasons behind this agreement.”
“To get me in bed and get back at me. That’s all this has ever been about.”
“No, it hasn’t. That has only been part of Mr. Calendri’s reason, and I’m afraid I cannot say more, other than to ask you again to please not hurt him.”
Isla frowned, her anger still simmering beneath the surface, but it was just that now. Simmering. Her hands managed to unclench, but that was about all she could manage.
“Is this because of what happened with his mother?”
Martina didn’t so much as flinch. Isla understood why Arturo had kept this woman on his staff. She was good at hiding just what needed to be hidden and not giving away anything unless she wanted to give it away.
But even she had slipped up back in Isla’s room when they’d been talking.
“I’m right, aren’t I? Arturo, he’s… what? Paranoid of being close to someone after what happened to his mother? I’m not a psycho killer, I’m not about to chop him up, and I’m also not a bitch. I’m not going to run to the media and tell them every single little thing I see or hear around here either.”
Martina finally gave something away. Her eyes widened and her shoulders pressed a little farther back. A look of worry entered her eyes, and Isla knew there was no way i
n hell that look was for her.
She could feel the eyes staring at the back of her head. Isla turned.
Arturo stood just at the end of the hall by the stairs that would lead down into the foyer. He stared at the both of them, but his angry glare seemed to be reserved for Isla alone.
Her lungs seized up in her chest as she went over a mental list of the things she’d been saying to Martina.
Not going to chop him up had been one thing, which obviously was a reference to his mother. Not a psycho killer was a reference to his father, and she had mentioned paranoia of getting close to anyone.
All of that had to sound bad, worse than just being bitchy. It was cruel, and probably the exact thing that Martina had been worried about when she’d wanted to have this talk to begin with.
“Arturo… I’m really—”
“Not another word,” he snapped. There was a harsh command in his tone.
She couldn’t resist it. She had to obey.
“Sam is waiting downstairs. We will go now before we are late.”
He turned and walked away.
24
The ride in the back of Arturo’s luxurious limo, with his heated leather seats, soft music, and the champagne, was awkward and silent.
Isla felt like she was fourteen all over again, being dragged back home after getting caught sneaking out with a boy.
She was sitting pretty much the same way. Her knees pressed together, hands on her thighs, and head down as she tried to look as small as humanly possible.
She wished Arturo would say something to her instead of staring out the tinted window with his champagne flute in one hand and his chin in the other.
Isla opened her mouth no less than ten times, thinking of all the ways she could tell this man that she was very sorry, but nothing was coming out. She was stuck. Stuck because she was an idiot who had to open her big mouth.
She hadn’t even meant those things. Not really. They were all true, but she’d been angry and hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.
It had to hurt, hearing someone else describe him and his family like that.
Or be incredibly irritating.
Isla thought over and over again about what Arturo must think of her and what a horrible person she must be, that it didn’t even occur to her that he might want to cancel their contract because of this.
When that scary as hell thought flitted through her head, Isla nearly stopped breathing.
Oh, shit. Oh, God. What if he canceled her contract? What if this date was now just a charade that he had to put up with because there was no one else to go with him?
No, that didn’t make sense. Arturo would always have someone on his arm if he wanted it. He might just be taking her to… wherever it was they were going, because he’d told someone else that she would be his date. That seemed to make sense.
Kind of.
But who would matter enough that he wouldn’t just dump her and find someone else anyway?
Maybe she was just putting too much thought into this. Maybe she needed to hurry up and say something before the limo stopped and they were in public and unable to speak at all.
“Arturo, I’m really very sorry.” His dark eyes snapped over in her direction. She nearly froze, but continued, “I wasn’t trying to say those things like that. Martina asked me not to hurt you, and I got… really angry.”
She wasn’t about to use the word offended. That would imply her feelings mattered in this situation enough to get angry. Her feelings didn’t matter right now. Not in the least.
Arturo still said nothing. He was just looking at her.
She had to take in another deep breath. Her heart was pounding and everything from her body to the atmosphere around her was tense. “I didn’t want to… I wasn’t trying to hurt you by saying those things, and I wasn’t trying to say anything against your mother either.”
Arturo’s face remained impassive and stony. “But you meant what you said?”
He got her there. Isla nearly answered him that one with another apology and a denial, but then snapped her mouth shut before anything could be said. If she said no to that, he would know she was lying.
“Well, to be fair, you do sleep around with a lot of women.” She shrugged and smiled as she said this, trying to play the entire thing off like it was supposed to be a joke.
At first she worried it didn’t work, but then the corner of Arturo’s mouth pulled up in that now familiar smirk, the one that made him look only about a hundred times more handsome than he actually was.
“And that has what to do with what you were saying to Martina?”
Shit.
“Are you jealous?”
“No!” Isla snapped, then closed her mouth quickly. It was too late. Her quick, angry response would’ve made her look like she really was jealous.
But she wasn’t. She couldn’t be.
Arturo was still smiling at her, still looking at her in that way that made her weak, She had a flutter in her stomach, and the warmth between her legs was prominent. Why did he have to look at her like that?
“I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end anyway.”
Isla blinked. Coming out of her haze of lust. “I… all right. So, does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“It means that it doesn’t matter.”
Isla didn’t know what to say to that. Not in the least.
Arturo watched her. Isla didn’t want him seeing how embarrassed she was. If she could, she’d sink into the floor and out of his sight.
“Don’t pout,” he said. “You’re acting as if it actually matters if my feelings were hurt.”
She stared at him, shocked. “Well, it kind of does matter, you know?”
He lifted a brow at her, but he said nothing else.
Isla looked away again. What was she defending him for? He clearly didn’t need it.
She stared out the window, her shoulders bunched up, her body tense. Arturo sighed. “Relax, you’re not the first person to say something negative about me.”
She figured that much, but she still didn’t like being the one to say anything negative about him.
She’d hit him and his brother once each in the short amount of time she’d been around them, and Arturo had caught her talking so carelessly about his family. Isla never knew she had it in her to be like that. She didn’t like those things about herself. She didn’t like how she couldn’t control herself around him. He seemed to bring out the worst in her.
Isla managed to pull herself out of her dour thoughts when she realized they weren’t on the highway anymore.
In fact, they were slowing down considerably as other cars took up space on the road.
“Where are we going?”
She barely looked at him when she asked.
“The Washington Capitals are playing tonight against the Rogues. Do you like hockey?”
Her gaze snapped over to him. “What? Are you serious? Yes, I love hockey! We’re really going to a game?”
Arturo nodded.
Isla gushed. She couldn’t help herself. “I love the Rogues! They’re my favorite team!”
“Because they’re the home team?”
“Because they’re awesome!”
Arturo preened at that. “It’s good to hear that, considering I own half the team.”
Isla’s eyes flew wide, and it was as if she was seeing him differently. “You do? Since when?”
He shrugged. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to tease her, but there was no way that was a good enough response.
Isla held nothing back. “No way. Come on. Since when do you own half of the Rogues? I would’ve known about that.”
“I know. Ten minutes on your Facebook page showed me that much.”
Isla’s cheeks heated considerably. Strangely, Arturo’s eyes clouded over as well. He cleared his throat and answered. “I’ve owned half the team for the last five years now. Do you recall when the owner was having financial difficulty?”
He didn�
�t go into any more details than that. Everyone knew about the tax and supposed gambling problems.
Isla nodded. “That was you? I was following that like crazy, but there was no mention of the source of money. You helped the team get out of debt?”
“No matter what I offered the original owner, he wouldn’t budge from his position of only half. He refused to give me any more than that. He was willing to risk the team disbanding and the city losing out on the funds it had cost to build the stadium.”
“So you saved them?”
He had her full, rapt attention now. Isla looked at him like a damned hero, and she didn’t care about their animosity.
“I wanted the team, but I didn’t want them to disband because I couldn’t have the whole thing.”
Arturo had saved her favorite team. Isla almost couldn’t believe it, but she did. “That’s… the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”
He seemed to soak up the praise and admiration for all of two seconds before he sounded like he was in a boardroom meeting. “I paid for half the team; I didn’t pay for cancer research.”
Isla shook her head. “I don’t care. I mean, don’t ever quote me on that because that sounds bad, but really, I don’t care. I think it’s amazing what you did.”
She was going to be saying the word amazing a lot.
Arturo blinked at her. His mouth quirked, like he was trying to hold back a smile. He ended up laughing a little instead. When they made it to the stadium, despite the fact that they arrived in a limo, everything felt normal. Maybe that was part of the fun. It would be nice to show up in a helicopter and completely avoid all the slow-moving traffic, but there was something about the anticipation that bubbled and thrummed in her stomach as she fought the urge to keep from bouncing in her seat on the ride there. Waiting built up her excitement, it seemed.
Also, since neither of them were driving they could both enjoy a glass of really amazing wine together added to the fun.
Sometimes it was better to not have everything be exactly like it was in those billionaire romances. Enjoying everything the way a normal person would had its benefits, Especially since they didn’t have to wait to find a parking spot. Sam dropped them off and they walked up to the front doors with everyone else.
