by Naomi West
“I am Felice’s mother, Dolores Domiano,” the blonde woman said, her voice tinted with a slightly Hispanic-sounding accent. Well, this was near enough to the border that the accent would be pretty normal. But not normally found on the tongues of natural blondes with green eyes. “I have a proposition for you, my boy. One I think you’ll have a tough time turning down.”
Digging in her purse, Dolores pulled all the cash she could find out of the nooks and crannies, piling every bill she found onto the kitchen table between them. After a few seconds of staring at the stack of money she’d made, she frowned at it. “About five thousand bucks there. More on the way if you agree, boy.”
“Agree to what?” Pierce asked, standing up a little straighter. “These people throw around money like they have no idea what it’s worth.”
“You will play bodyguard and boyfriend to my daughter here,” she pointed a manicured nail at Felice, running her tongue over her Botox-swollen lips. “Once you make that idiot boyfriend of hers jealous enough to come crawling back on his hands and knees, you’ll be paid in full to disappear. Leaving my daughter with Clay.”
It was pretty obvious that Felice was used to Dolores controlling every aspect of her life. She didn’t even turn to look at him when Pierce tried to catch her eye.
After a second, Pierce cleared his throat. “Is this what you want, Felice?”
Blinking surprise, Felice looked at him, her face pale as a ghost under her tan. Then she shrugged, her face impassive.
Dolores started talking figures, the numbers steadily getting higher if he was successful. “You’ll end up a wealthy man by the end, if you do your job right.”
Without looking back at Felice, Pierce stared at the money on the counter, trying to figure out how he could stay with a public figure like Felice and still keep the low profile he’d need to not end up in jail for the rest of his life.
“And there’s the other thing,” a part of him whispered from the depths of his soul. “That Clay asshole doesn’t deserve to lick Felice’s boots.” Knowing this whole idea to be a mistake, Pierce stared down the matron of the Domiano household, trying to figure out a way to get out of this.
# # #
Felice
Felice, already feeling deflated, had the rest of her hopes dashed when she pulled up to her house to see her mother’s car in the driveway. She pulled the Porsche into the garage, bracing herself for the unavoidable fight that was about to happen.
Felice’s mother looked much like Felice plus twenty years. “Or like I will if I marry someone I hate and become bitter and controlling.”
Like if Felice married Clay. She winced at that thought.
“Oh crap, I don't want to end up like my mom.”
“So let me get this straight,” Dolores Domiano, the matron of house Domiano and one of the most controlling people in the world, said without even a greeting. “You find the wealthiest, best-looking, most camera-ready, and most stable boys in the state to date, and then you dumped him for fucking Jenn? Are you an idiot, girl? Of course he’s going to sleep around; that’s what rich men do.”
Felice sighed, taking her coffee and the packet with Pierce’s money out of her car. She didn’t bother interrupting; once Dolores got started, nothing would shut her up until she was done ranting.
“His little cheating doesn’t undo his great career or how good he would be on the show. And don’t you dare roll your eyes at me, Kitten. You know you won’t find anyone better than he is for you.”
“I already have,” Felice said calmly, turning away from her mother.
Dolores paused in her speech, sputtering. Felice found a little joy in her flabbergasted expression. Her mom wasn’t used to be interrupted, and Felice had just contradicted her and interrupted with three little words. Dolores looked unhappy, then livid. “Don’t you walk away from me; I’m not done speaking to you!”
Taking a deep breath, Felice turned back to her mother. “Could we not fight on the front lawn, hmm?”
“Who is this other guy?”
“Pierce. He’s an aspiring actor.”
Dolores laughed right in her face, making Felice want to run away. But she forced her feet to hold still and take it, not letting Dolores know how much her laughter was making Felice crazy. “You need Clay back for the next season of the show. He’s going to be a big part of next season! Beside, this fake boyfriend you have is probably not even a real person, is he? You’re going to need more than a rumor to make your man jealous enough to want you back.”
Felice narrowed her eyes. “Matt told you. About our bet.”
“Of course he did; you and your brother and your stupid bets. You two should know how much this affecting the family, and our show!” Dolores started up with the dramatics. Felice turned away and started walking toward the house before the waterworks could start up. “I’ll give you the money you’ll lose to your brother if you start acting like a grown up and just take Clay back already.”
“I won’t lose to Matt!” Felice snapped, knowing how childish she sounded. She didn’t even care, either. What was it about her mom that brought out the worst in her?
Dolores rolled her pretty green eyes, flapping her hands around like a bird trying to take off. “Oh, would you think about someone else beside yourself for a second,” she said, slamming the door behind herself. “You know your brother made that same bet with Clay as he did with you?”
Felice was livid, her emerald eyes nearly glowing from fury. “He what?”
“Oh yes,” Dolores said, her voice wickedly happy. She seemed to find more joy than usual this morning in making her daughter as miserable as possible. “So, where is this fake boyfriend?”
Felice felt all of her anger leave her like a balloon being deflated. There was no point in staying mad at her mom; it only made Dolores happy and Felice miserable. “Fine, he’s not actually my boyfriend,” she admitted, not happy about it. “Pierce is just some guy I met yesterday. I was going to use him to make Clay jealous.” Felice scooted across the kitchen, unconsciously putting the counter between her and her mother.
Dolores’ eyes narrowed. “He’ll need a better back story than aspiring artist.” She tapped a manicured nail against her Botox lips, her eyes crawling across the ceiling as she thought through it. “If he’s beefy enough, we can tell people he’s a bodyguard.”
“He’s beefy enough,” Felice said, shivering to remember that muscled body pressed against her own.
“Then you two can fall in lust and get together. Some public appearances with super-alpha hunky bodyguard boyfriend will be just the thing to make Clay come crawling back. Then we’ll both be happy, right?” She looked over Felice with icy green eyes, not a lick of emotion in either one, except maybe exasperation at her daughter.
“But I don’t want to be with Clay.” She still loved him, as much as she hated to admit that, even to herself. But that didn’t change what he did. That didn’t change how slimy he was about the whole thing, with the fake name and picking up girls like he was single. How many times had he done it before? She chewed on her thumbnail. But Mrs. Dolores had spoken, so Felice would have no choice but to go along.
She always went along with whatever her mother wanted.
Pierce came down the stairs just then, a panther on the prowl. Much to Felice’s surprise, he came to stand close to her without a word, crossing his arms like he was gearing up to protect her. Interesting. Maybe this bodyguard thing will work.
She didn’t hear a word they said to one another. In fact, she forced herself to ignore the whole thing, turning her face away. Feeling like a ball of lead was forming in her belly, Felice set her coffee down on the counter. Suddenly, she didn’t want it.
Pierce turned to face her, his pretty, deep-set eyes catching hers. There was some emotion twisting up his mouth that she couldn’t quite read, but he looked unhappy. “Is this what you want, Felice?” he asked, sending shivers down to her toes.
“What a question! No one ever ca
res what I want.” Her heart squeezed a little in her chest. Unable to form an answer, she kept her mouth shut and shrugged instead. She turned away her face again, forcing herself to block out both of their voices as they continued to speak.
Chapter Seven
Pierce
Feeling a little silly, Pierce adjusted the collar of his tailored suit with unhappy fingers. He looked in the mirror again for the millionth time, making sure the suit covered up his most recognizable tattoos. Though he wasn’t sure his own mother would be able to recognize him after Felice and her mother got through with him. They dyed his hair from dark brown to black and buzzed it down to almost nothing on the sides. The top they left about an inch long, making his head feel incredibly naked. Then they got him a few minutes in a tanning booth (which was a few too many minutes for him) and got him brand new clothing that was cut so close to his body that he had to wiggle to get into them.
In the mirror, he looked amazing with his killer shades and sweet clothing, but he still felt incredibly uncomfortable. Knowing he was going to be on TV made it worse; what if someone recognized something about him on the show? He felt like he was walking around with a target on his head. It made him jumpy.
Felice came into his room, her eyes running over him with satisfaction. She put her fingers between her lips and wolf whistled, something only Felice could make sexy. Her appreciative gaze made his stomach twist up with desire, his eyes running over her just as warmly.
Half of him felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled into the life of such a beautiful woman, and the other half was berating himself for ever thinking this was a good idea. How did Dolores talk him into this again?
“You look amazing; I knew you would clean up well.”
“Thanks,” Pierce said, trying to keep his discomfort at this whole plan to himself.
But somehow she knew. “Don’t be nervous; you don’t have any lines. All you have to do is stand there and look mean.”
Pierce made a grumpy face at her, crossing his muscled arms over his chest.
Running her emerald gaze over the length of him, she chuckled. “No, just a little meaner.”
Pierce sneered a little harder, stood a little taller. And he was rewarded with a big smile on Felice’s beautiful face.
“Damn, this woman is trouble.”
“See, you’re a natural at this.” Felice reached out a hand to him, then quickly took it back, like she was having to fight not to touch him.
That thought sent fire through his blood.
“We’re doing an interview, so all we need is for you to be tough and a little overprotective. Make it seem like I’m something precious to you that you are guarding with your life. Don’t say anything. These TMZ guys are like piranha fish; if you say a single word, they’ll find a way to twist it. We’re going to make up some story about a break in or something as an excuse for why I suddenly need a bodyguard.” Felice had a paper rolled up under her arm, and she took it out to bang it on the table a few times. It made a hollow thump thump thump sound as she pondered his appearance. “I know what you need!” she said snapping her fingers and throwing the newspaper to the table of his dressing room. “An earpiece. Let me see what I can find for you.”
Felice left, and Pierce heaved a sigh. “This is going to be harder than I thought,” he whispered out loud to himself. Every inch of that woman turned him on, and every inch of him wanted to touch every one of those inches. But he shouldn’t be here.
Glancing down, Pierce caught an eyeful of the photo on the front page that Felice had been carrying around. The photo was huge, in color, and on the front of the entertainment section. The picture was of two, attractive, smiling young people, hand in hand, dressed to the nines. The young man was a redhead with pale skin and a handsomely chiseled face. The girl looked like she could have been a model out of any magazine, her lithe figure wrapped in a sparkling gown that drew the eye. But the shining dress couldn’t distract Pierce from the words printed in bold above the photo.
CLAY PATTERSON AND FELICE DOMIANO ON THE ROCKS
Patterson seen at the Starlight Gala with new lady. Felice nowhere in sight!
“Clay Patterson, hmm? This is the boy we are trying so hard to make jealous. He doesn’t look like much.” But Pierce turned away from the photo, trying to keep his opinion out of it. It was none of his business, after all.
But he wanted it very much to be his business.
# # #
Felice
“It was a horrible break in. I no longer feel safe being alone.” Felice managed to squeeze a few tears out at those words. “We are doing what we can to recover. Since nothing went missing, we haven’t gotten the police involved, but it just had me a little worried.” She glanced gratefully up a Pierce, her face lighting up to see him standing so close to her. She could feel herself tense a little, thrills running along every single one of her nerves at the sight of that body so close to hers. “Thankfully, I don’t have to be alone anymore.”
The reporter looked a little surprised when Felice turned back to him. “You two seem to have a little more going on than that.”
Felice didn’t have to pretend to blush at that. “Is that so? We are quite good friends.”
“Just friends?” the reporter asked, his tone very suggestive.
“Good friends,” Felice answered, winking a little at him.
“Well, I’m glad you found something to make you feel safer. I’m surprised that with a break in like that, you want to be out in public so soon.”
Felice sat up a little straighter, fire in her emerald eyes. “I may have taken a few extra precautions, but I will never hide away because of a threat or a break in. A Dom never submits.”
The reporter asked a few more questions and made a few more suggestive remarks about Pierce, brushing up against, but never quite asking, if Felice and Pierce were in a relationship. Felice answered the questions with dignity, pretending she didn’t notice the growing chemistry between them.
The interview went well, at least by Dolores’ standards. Clay would probably see the interview in the morning, if Felice knew TMZ. She still felt guilty at manipulating Clay’s emotions for money, but it was what her mother wanted. Why had she made that stupid bet? “I really wish Mother hadn’t insisted on me getting back with Clay. The only thing that could make this worse would be a sobbing phone call from Clay, begging for me back.” Unsure how to feel, Felice and her sexy bodyguard returned to her place.
Chapter Eight
Pierce
“A most perfect interview,” Felice said, and not for the first time. But her emerald eyes were dull and unhappy. “I don’t think it could have gone better if I had scripted it!” She laughed, her giggles sounding hollow to his ears. “Didn’t it go well, Pierce?”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, opening the door to her mansion a little too hard. All this for some cheating prick that doesn’t deserve her. Pierce sighed, trying not to make his distaste too obvious. This was for the money, he told himself for the thousandth time.
But that was difficult to remember when she was so close to him. “I’m going to win,” she said, pulling off her boots and tossing them haphazardly to the side. “And,” she said, turning to face Pierce as she closed the door, “I like winning.”
Before he could stop her, Felice was too close. So close he could smell the coconut of her conditioner and the spicy, sort of cinnamon scent of her skin. The mix filled his nostrils with the smell of her, and Pierce could immediately feel his body react, hardening up like he was still a teenager with no control.
It was too late when Felice noticed, her eyes glittering as she made that final spin, putting her within easy reach for a kiss. Their eyes locked. The false smile faded from her lips, replaced by a kind of confused awe. His whole body on fire, Pierce did the stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life.
He kissed Felice Domiano.
Her lips tasted like candy-flavored lip gloss, the clean smell of
her invading to lay claim to Pierce’s sex-clouded mind. Her lips were soft, pliant from surprise, and full under his own, and Pierce nearly shuddered under the power of that gentle brush of lips.
Realizing his mistake immediately, Pierce pulled back, nearly slamming his head into the front door as he tried to put some space in between them. Felice looked up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, her bedroom eyes darkening with something that looked a lot like lust. Her tiny, beautiful wrists came up to rest on his shoulders, her fingers sliding along the back of his neck.
