Seduced by the CEO

by Pamela Yaye

  “Jariah, you have nothing to worry about. I won’t leave your side.”

  “Can I get that in writing?” she joked, using his favorite line.

  “You don’t need to. You have my word.”

  To calm her nerves, Jariah took a long, deep breath. It didn’t help, and the more she tried to relax, the harder her legs shook. The raspberry-colored, one-shoulder gown she’d eagerly purchased weeks earlier at Macy’s now felt tight enough to choke her. “Do I look okay? Are you sure my dress isn’t too tight?”

  “You look incredible, and I can’t wait to show you off to my family and friends.” Touching her face, he sprayed kisses across her nose and cheeks. His voice was intimate, as gentle as a feather along her spine. “We’re going to celebrate this joyous occasion with my parents, and after the party wraps up I’m taking you back to my place for dessert.”

  His grin was her weakness, his touch her Kryptonite. And when his gaze slid down her hips Jariah knew exactly what he had on his mind. They desperately wanted the same thing. But she played coy and teased him with a wink and a salacious look. “What’s on the menu?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  The back door swung open, and a spicy, piquant fragrance flooded the limousine. Stars specked the night sky, the evening breeze whipped wildly through the trees, and music blared from the fleet of luxury cars parked along Biscayne Boulevard.

  Nicco stepped out of the limousine and offered his right hand. He drew her into his arms, and pressed his mouth against hers. Their eyes connected, and when he smiled at her—one of his slow, easy, grins—Jariah felt a deep sense of peace. And just like that, her body quit shaking and her ears stopped throbbing. Being in Nicco’s arms would never grow old. She gloried in their newfound love, relished every minute they spent together, and was hopeful about their future. Who cared what anyone else had to say? Why did it matter? She was in a committed relationship with a wonderful man who adored her daughter, and she wasn’t going to let anyone come between them.

  “Sei una bellezza vivace, e io sono completamente e irrimediabilmente colpita con voi.”

  His words caused her fears to dissipate and her confidence to soar. “You’re right. I am a vivacious beauty.” Feeling playful and sexy, she raised her chin, arched her shoulders and struck pose. “You’re one very lucky man, Nicco Morretti!”

  Flashing his trademark grin, he slid his hands down her back, and squeezed her butt. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, now, let’s go party!”

  The Dolce Vita dining room was a scene of gaiety and excitement. And when Jariah saw the satin-draped ceilings, towering flower vases overflowing with long-stemmed roses and the eight-tiered wedding cake covered in sparkling gems she knew Nicco and his brothers had spared no expense for their parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

  Round tables draped with silver tablecloths were covered with fine china and floating candles that showered the room with a sultry, golden hue. Backed by a ten-piece orchestra, a blue-eyed, soul crooner entertained guests as they sipped champagne, and feasted on imported caviar. The silver and red decor was striking, the music was enchanting and the air was filled with an appetizing aroma.

  “What do you think?” Nicco asked as they entered the dining room.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s incredible, but a little over-the-top.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say!” Chuckling, he pecked her on the cheek. “My mom loves throwing big parties, so I told Claudia to go all-out, and she delivered big-time.”

  “You can say that again,” Jariah agreed. “I don’t know what you’re paying her, but she’s worth every penny.”

  He dropped his mouth to her ear. “Maybe we should hire her to plan our wedding.”

  “Don’t we have to get engaged first?”

  “How does tonight sound?”

  Jariah tried not to faint, but just the thought of marrying Nicco and becoming his lawfully wedded wife made her feel light-headed. “I don’t need a party planner. I just want a simple, elegant wedding with my friends and family.”

  “That’s it? You don’t want a lavish venue or a five-page guest list?”

  “Nicco, if you’re by my side, I’ll have everything I’ll ever need.”

  He pressed a kiss to her lips, and she snuggled against his chest. Deep inside, Jariah could feel herself changing, growing and becoming a stronger, more confident woman. It was hard to believe that one man could change her, but the Italian-born businessman had. In Nicco, she’d found what she’d been looking for her whole life. Their personalities meshed well, they always had a blast together and they shared the same values and beliefs. Feeling content for the first time in months, she slid her arms around his waist and returned his kiss.

  During cocktail hour, they socialized with guests, posed for pictures in front of the ice sculpture and fed each other oysters and tropical fruit. Walking around the restaurant on Nicco’s arm was an intoxicating feeling. He introduced her to his relatives, proudly showed her off to his business associates and kept a protective arm around her waist. Meeting the mayor was a treat, but nothing topped slow-dancing with Nicco to her favorite Michael Bublé song.

  At seven o’clock, the lights dimmed, and guests donned elaborate party masks and colored beads in honor of the couple’s New Orleans wedding ceremony twenty-five years earlier.

  “Our guests of honor will be here in twenty minutes,” Claudia Jeffries-Medina announced, clapping her hands together to capture the attention of the audience. A hush fell over the dining area, and all heads turned to the bubbly party planner. “I just received word that Mr. and Mrs. Morretti have left Country Club Miami, so everyone, please get in place...”

  Gerald appeared, spoke quietly to Nicco and took off like a thief in the night.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Nicco said, draping an arm around her shoulder.

  “Again? But we had a quickie in the office ten minutes ago.”

  He grinned. “I know you’re not complaining. You begged for more!”

  Nicco led Jariah through the dining room and out into the waiting area. And there, standing beside the aquarium, were her parents. They were dressed in formal designer threads, which made them look years younger.

  “Mom, Dad, oh, my goodness, it’s so great to see you!” Jariah threw her arms around her parents and held them tight. Her dad kissed her on the forehead, and her eyes stung and burned. Feeling his love caused the tears she’d been holding inside for the past eight months to finally break free. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

  “Honey, don’t cry. You’re going to ruin your makeup, and you look so pretty.” Mrs. Brooks snatched the handkerchief out of her husband’s jacket pocket and cleaned her daughter’s tear-stained cheeks. “We didn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness, so after you sent that email we decided to stay away—”

  Jariah cut in. “Mom, what are you talking about? What email?”

  Mrs. Brooks spoke openly about how hurtful the message was, and confessed that she’d cried herself to sleep for weeks afterward.

  “What? That’s crazy. I never sent that message.”

  “You didn’t?” Mrs. Brooks asked.

  “Never. Someone must have hacked into my email.”

  Mr. Brooks frowned and stroked his freshly trimmed black beard. “But the message was full of personal, private details only you would know.”

  Or, someone close to me, Jariah thought, her brain switching into overdrive. Her heart beat raced, pounded with anger. The truth came to her, hit her like a ton of bricks. She thought back to months earlier to the day she’d dumped Wesley, and as his insults played in her mind. She knew he’d to have been the one to send the bogus email to her parents. He knew her email password, had access to her laptop and had never hid his dislike for her mom and d
ad.

  Emotion clogged Jariah’s throat, making it impossible for her to speak. Later, when they were alone, she’d share her suspicions with her parents, but now was neither the time nor the place. Not with Nicco standing behind her, listening in. The less he knew about her ex the better.

  “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, and haven’t always see eye-to-eye, but I would never intentionally hurt you. I love you guys, and not being able to see you has been torture.”

  “That’s what Nicco said when he came by the house yesterday.”

  Bewildered, Jariah eyed Nicco. “You went to Overtown to meet my parents?”

  “I had to. I wanted them here to celebrate with us tonight.”

  “Honey, we’re so proud of you,” Mrs. Brooks said, beaming from ear-to-ear. “Nicco told us you’re the best executive assistant he’s ever had!”

  “You’re proud of me? Really? Even though I’ve made so many mistakes?”

  Mr. Brooks rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Mistakes are what make us human. We haven’t always agreed with your decisions, but we have never stopped loving you.”

  Jariah’s vision blurred with tears, but she told herself not to cry. In that moment, standing beside Nicco and her parents, something inside her lifted. And as she listened to her father praise her accomplishments, she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

  “You’re an outstanding mother and a thoughtful daughter,” he continued.

  “I still can’t believe you booked us the penthouse suite at the Shore Club. We have our own butler and a free mini bar!” Mrs. Brooks exclaimed. “And the Macy’s shopping spree this afternoon was amazing!”

  Jariah turned to Nicco and mouthed the words Thank you. She realized she couldn’t love him more. He walked as if he owned the world, but beneath the cocky attitude was a sensitive, loving man with a heart of gold. And Jariah loved him, mind, body and soul.

  The front doors swung open, and hot air blew inside the waiting area.

  “I thought this was a classy, sophisticated party. What are you doing here?”

  Jariah heard Stella Covington’s haughty voice and spun around with a stinging retort on her lips. But before she could get the words out, Nicco gave Mrs. Covington a hug, and kissed her on both cheeks. “Mr. and Mrs. Covington, I’m glad you made it, and just in time, my parents should be arriving any minute...”

  Nicco knows The Covingtons? Her stomach lurched violently from left to right. Of course he did. They were a powerhouse couple, one of the wealthiest in Miami. Seeing Nicco with them reminded Jariah that he was way out of her league.

  With her pulse pounding, she watched as Nicco laughed and chatted with the Covingtons. It was sweltering outside, easily ninety degrees, but Stella was wearing a fur shawl, a vintage lace floor-length dress, and what had to be a million dollars in diamonds.

  “What are you doing here?” Mrs. Covington demanded, flipping her hair over her shoulders. “Shouldn’t you be at home caring for Ava?”

  Nicco stepped forward, and draped an arm possessively around her waist. “Baby, you never told me you knew the Covingtons.”

  “Y-y-you’re dating?” Mrs. Covington’s face was as pale as her gown. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? You’ve always had a penchant for wealthy men, haven’t you, Jariah?”

  The silence was so awkward, Jariah imagined herself crashing through the emergency exit and diving back inside the Rolls Royce. Her impulse was to run, but before she could make a break for it, Nicco tightened his hold, so close she couldn’t move. She expected him to question her, to ask her if the accusations were true, but he didn’t. He only smiled and gave her a peck on the lips.

  “Let’s head back inside. My parents should be here any minute.”

  “Nicco, you don’t know that girl like I do. She’s sneaky and conniving—”

  “Who the hell are you calling conniving?” Mrs. Brooks demanded, placing a hand to her broad hips. “Mind your tongue, Stella, or I’ll slap you into next week!”

  Tempers flared, insults flew, and all hell broke loose. The couples were arguing so loudly, no one saw Mr. and Mrs. Morretti enter the waiting area. “What is going on here?”

  Jariah winced and hung her head. Mr. and Mrs. Morretti looked shell-shocked, like the sole survivors of a ship wreck, and worse, her mom had kicked off her high heels, and was taking off her clip-on earrings.

  “Nicco, answer me, what is going on?” Though short and stout, with a full head of gray hair, Mr. Morretti had an air of authority and a commanding presence.

  “Arturo, I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Mrs. Covington used one hand to smooth her disheveled hair, and the other to adjust her gown. “That girl has been cheating on my Wesley with your son, and had the nerve to show up here with her vulgar, ill-mannered parents!”

  “Vulgar?” Mrs. Brooks wagged a finger in the socialite’s face. “I’ll show you vulgar!”

  Mrs. Brooks lunged at Mrs. Covington, but Mr. Brooks grabbed her around the waist and whisked her over to the black leather couch before she could land a single blow. “That’s enough,” he snapped. “You’ve said your peace, now let it go. You’re embarrassing Jariah...”

  “I refuse to break bread with uncouth factory workers from Overtown,” Mrs. Covington spat, folding her arms across her chest. “If they don’t leave, then I will.”

  Mrs. Morretti shook her head, and linked arms with Mrs. Covington. “You’re not going anywhere, Stella. I haven’t seen you in ages, and we have tons of catching up to do.”

  Mrs. Covington wore a victorious smile.

  “Put this ugly incident behind you, and join me inside for cocktails.” Mrs. Morretti glared at Jariah. Anger showed on her face, and her dark eyes were filled with disgust. “You and your parents aren’t welcome here, so please leave, or I will call the police.”

  “She’s not going anywhere.” Nicco clasped Jariah’s hand. “Jariah’s my date, and I personally invited her parents—”

  Arturo frowned. “Your date for what? And why is the restaurant in complete darkness?”

  “Deborah, let’s go. I don’t want to stay where I’m not welcome, and if we hurry I can catch the second half of the baseball game.” Mr. Brooks took his car keys out of his jacket pocket. “Baby girl, are you coming with us?”

  Jariah’s mouth dried, and her temples throbbed. Time stood still for what seemed like an eternity. Her throat was so sore, it hurt to swallow. Everyone was staring at her. She could sense it, feel it, knew they all were watching her every move. Shifting from one foot to the next, she struggled with what to do.

  “Jariah, si prega di rimanere. Ho bisogno di te al mio fianco questa sera.”

  Her stomach did a triple back flip into her throat, but when Nicco stroked her forearm her heart melted. His voice was octaves lower, and his gaze was a light caress across her face. Jariah wanted to spend the rest of the night dancing with Nicco and stealing kisses inside the vintage photo booth, but she couldn’t risk hurting her parents again.

  “Have a great time with your family, Nicco, and thanks for everything.”

  “Baby, don’t go. You have as much right to be here as anyone else.”

  Her sadness sat on her chest like a fifty-pound boulder. In a perfect world, it wouldn’t matter where she was from, or that she’d had a child out of wedlock, but tonight it did. Especially to people like Stella Covington. Jariah would rather go home with her parents than spend another minute in the socialite’s ugly presence. “Good night.”

  Her mind made up, she turned away from Nicco and linked arms with her mom and dad. As they exited Dolce Vita, tears coursed down Jariah’s cheeks, staining her designer gown.

  Chapter 18

  “What are you doing up so early? On Sundays, you never crawl out of bed before noon, and when you do it’s usually kic
king and screaming!”

  Nicco chuckled, but he didn’t find anything funny about his dad cracking jokes on him at six in the morning. He was surprised—shocked actually—to see his mom cleaning the microwave, and his dad sitting at the table reading the newspaper. The very table he and Jariah had made love on just days earlier. Images of her naked, curvy body bombarded his mind, causing an erection to swell inside his jeans. He could still hear her moans, smell the perfume of her sex, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to look at Jariah and not want to make love to her.

  Changing the channel in his mind, he joined his dad at the kitchen table and dropped down into the nearest chair. Nicco knew what was coming next, but was determined not to lose his temper. His parents always stayed at his Coral Gables estate when they were in Miami, but this was the first time they’d ever taken over his kitchen. They jokingly referred to his guest quarters as their “love shack,” and would stay cooped up inside the plush, all-white suite for days on end. So seeing them in his space put Nicco on high alert. They were up to something. No doubt about it. Last night, during dinner, gossip-loving Stella Covington had probably filled his mother’s head with filthy lies about Jariah, and now, armed with misinformation, she was anxious to talk. And so was he.

  At the thought of Jariah, he felt an overpowering rush of emotion. He couldn’t stop smiling or thinking about her, and he looked forward to seeing her that afternoon. Last night, after the anniversary bash ended, he’d driven over to Jariah’s townhome. Inside the living room, they’d had an open, honest conversation. One that lasted for hours.

  He told her about what happened with Gracie, and she told him about her tumultuous relationship with Wesley, and her ongoing struggle to keep the peace for their daughter’s sake. Sharing their past pain and disappointments made Nicco feel even closer to Jariah. He was not only prepared to defend her, he was ready to propose to her. But first, he had to set the record straight with his parents.

  Right on cue, his mother closed the microwave, and dropped her dishrag on the counter. Mr. Morretti lowered his newspaper and stared at Nicco over the rim of his Armani eyeglasses.