The Bigtime Series (Bigtime superhero series, e-bundle)

by Jennifer Estep

  “James was very, very good with his hands, from what I remember. We spent many hours down by that waterfall skinny-dipping and doing other things...”

  Joanne chattered on about James Bulluci and his magnificent hands, chasing my stray thought away. I finished pinning up the dress, and Joanne twirled around and looked at the rough copy.

  “You’ve outdone yourself again, Fiona. This will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”

  It’d come with a perfect price tag too. I’d make sure of that. Joanne slipped out of the dress and back into her suit. She fluffed out her hair and put on a fresh coat of lavender lipstick.

  Joanne eyed me in the mirror. “Come on, Fiona. Everybody saw you with Johnny at the benefit. Give me something, some little detail to share with the girls at the spa.”

  I stared at Joanne. Then, I smiled. “Like father, like son.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I finished up with Joanne James and sped home. I was due at the Bulluci manor at eight, leaving me less than two hours to get my fabulous self ready. Of course, I always looked fabulous, but I really wanted to knock Johnny’s socks off. Along with the rest of his clothes.

  I took a shower and dried my hair in a nanosecond. Then, I paced back and forth through my closet, trying to find the perfect dress to wear, while I scarfed down a couple bags of key-lime cookies. The gown couldn’t be too casual—or too revealing. I wouldn’t want to give Bobby Bulluci a heart attack by shoving my cleavage at him á la Erica Songe. Although from the way the old man had worked the crowd at the benefit the other night, maybe I was the one who should watch out. Charm seemed to run in the family, except for Bella, who was far too serious and uptight for her own good.

  I decided on a short, sleeveless, silver lamé number with lots of cowgirl-like fringe in strategic places. The requisite stilettos and bag polished off the look, along with large diamond studs and a matching tennis bracelet. Joanne James wasn’t the only one who could sparkle like an electrified disco ball when she wanted to.

  By the time I was dressed, it was creeping up on seven-thirty. I put the gas pedal to the floor and roared across town in my convertible to the Bulluci manor in record time, traveling fifteen miles through heavy traffic in about ten minutes. Swifte couldn’t have done much better himself.

  Tires squealing, I took an exit off the interstate and threaded my way through more traffic before pulling onto Lucky Way. Old, twisted cypress trees and Spanish moss hung over Lucky Way, bathing it in long, soft shadows. Lawns as smooth as carpet led up from the street to some of the priciest homes in Bigtime. We were talking castles here, turrets, moats, and all. Joanne James had a mansion in the area. So did Berkley Brighton, Nate Norris, Wesley Weston, and all the other power players.

  I double-checked the address Johnny had given me and turned into a driveway that curled up a steep hill. The wrought-iron gates swung open at my approach. The black pavement curved into a circle that went by the front of the house before looping back around on itself and flowing down the hill. I pulled up to the front steps, got out of the car, and paused to stare at the massive building. I’d been to the mansion a couple of times before during some of Bella’s fashion shows, but it still wowed me. It wasn’t as large as Sublime, but the house had an old-world feel to it that I admired. The red-tile roof, wide stone arches, and numerous balconies and patios reminded me of a villa on the coast of Italy or Greece. Perhaps Bobby Bulluci had built it to remind himself of his homeland. Either way, the manor had a bright, cheery feel. In the light of day, it would be even more impressive.

  A tuxedo-clad butler greeted me at the front door, crooked his finger, and beckoned me to follow him. We moved deeper into the house, and my eyes roamed over the rich furnishings. In a way, it was exactly like Sublime. Tapestries covered the walls, and statues and other pricey knickknacks clustered in curio cabinets.

  But as I looked around, I noticed there was a definite, odd pattern to the finery. Almost every single item had some sort of angel-like figure on it. Fat cherubs smiled from frescoes on the walls. Wings adorned the backs of tall chairs. Miniature halos dangled from a pair of crystal wind chimes. Even the light fixtures looked like marshmallow clouds drifting by. I’d have to ask Johnny about his family’s strange obsession.

  We reached a massive wooden door. The butler knocked once before pulling it open. My gaze went to the knob, which was shaped like angel’s head, halo and all. It was kind of creepy.

  “Miss Fiona Fine.” The butler bowed and left the room.

  I strode inside. Johnny, Bella, and Bobby sat on a long sofa staring at an enormous plasma-screen television. Soccer players shouted and screamed and slammed into each other on the flickering monitor.

  “Johnny. Bella. Bobby.”

  They echoed my greeting, but Johnny and Bobby’s eyes remained glued to the television. I snorted. Men. Bella rose and walked over to me. She wore a shimmering dress of the palest pink imaginable. Despite Joanne James’s hatred of it, the color looked wonderful on Bella, and the embroidery on the bodice was exquisite and dainty. I peered closer at the pattern. Tiny angels ran along the high-fitting neckline, and the usual silver angel charm ringed Bella’s throat. What was it with these people and angels?

  “Sorry about them,” Bella said, rolling her eyes at her male relatives. “I told them that you’d be here at eight sharp, but they just had to check out the highlights from today’s games. Didn’t you, Johnny?” Bella leaned over the couch and mussed her brother’s tawny locks.

  Johnny swatted her hand away. “Fiona likes soccer too. She completely understands. Don’t you, Fiona?”

  He looked and sounded like such a little boy that I had to laugh. “Believe me, I understand. My friend Sam never leaves the house without seeing what the latest football and hockey scores are.”

  After several more loud, jovial, clichéd comments, the sportscaster bid his captivated audience good night, and Johnny clicked off the television. “Now it’s over.”

  Bobby came around the couch and bowed to me. “And now we can properly entertain our lovely, lovely guest.” The old man pressed a dry kiss to my hand.

  “All right, that’s enough of that,” Johnny growled in a playful tone. He took my hand away from his grandfather.

  “Afraid the old man might be too smooth for you, eh, Johnny boy?” Bobby elbowed his grandson in the ribs and shot me a playful look.

  “Of course not,” Johnny replied in an even tone. “I not only have my father’s charm, I have my mother’s good looks as well. No woman can resist the combination.”

  Bella crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think Fiona will be as easily swayed as that.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’ve made considerable progress so far. We had a wonderful time at the observatory benefit, didn’t we, Fiona?” Johnny grinned.

  The feel of Johnny’s hands, his lips, his tongue on me, in me flashed through my head. For the first time in a very long time, I blushed. “Yes, we did,” I murmured, catching his dancing eyes. “Yes, we did.”

  Bella looked back and forth between me and her brother, frowning. She really needed to lighten up. Bobby clapped his hands together.

  “Come! Let’s eat! I want my steak and wine and chocolate.” Bobby beamed at me. “And not necessarily in that order.”

  “Grandfather...” Bella warned.

  Bobby pulled himself up to his full height. “We have a guest tonight, Bella. I will not insult her by eating that tasteless gruel the doctor calls food in front of her. The chef has prepared an excellent meal, and we will all dine well tonight.”

  Bella sighed, giving in to the old man. I didn’t envy her. Bobby Bulluci was quite a handful, even if he was on the downhill side of seventy. I put my hand on Johnny’s arm, and he escorted me to the dining room. It was a long, narrow room with a long, narrow table that looked like it could seat five hundred people and then some. More tapestries lined the walls, including one that featured more fat, happy cherubs shining their gleaming halos
on puffy clouds.

  The more I stared at the cherubs, the more I wondered why the Bullucis had so many of them. So, I asked.

  “You guys seem to have a thing for angels. Everywhere I turn, there they are. Is your family crest a halo or something?”

  Bella’s mouth dropped open. Bobby’s step faltered. Johnny’s arm tensed under my fingertips.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

  My eyes flicked back and forth between the three of them. What was that about? You’d think I’d just uncovered a skeleton in the hall closet or their secret identities as superheroes or something.

  Secret identities as superheroes... I frowned. I’d seen a lot of angels lately, mostly adorning the clothes and sundry gear of Johnny Angel. Could the Bullucis be connected to him? If so, how? Bobby and Bella certainly weren’t the motorcycle rider. And it wasn’t like Johnny could actually be Angel…could he?

  No, I decided. Johnny didn’t have Angel’s attitude problems. Besides, Johnny hadn’t even been in the country until recently, and Angel had been around Bigtime for years. At least, his old incarnation had been. I didn’t know how long the new guy had been prowling the streets.

  Johnny forced himself to relax. “Of course not. Angels aren’t our...family crest.” He looked at his grandfather. “But we all like them. It’s sort of a family...tradition to collect them.”

  “Oh.”

  I didn’t quite believe his explanation, although there was no real reason for me not to. But I decided to let the matter drop. I wasn’t as nosy and paranoid as Carmen. I didn’t think everyone was harboring a secret identity or wearing a spandex suit underneath his tuxedo. In fact, I didn’t really care who was who, as long as they stayed out of my way.

  We sat down at one end of the table. Servants hustled in, bringing with them tempting dishes that smelled like they’d come down from heaven itself. My stomach rumbled, and I forgot about my unease and suspicions. The bags of cookies were long gone.

  “Grilled filet mignon, roasted potatoes, fried zucchini, Italian bread, butter, a Caesar salad, and enough olive oil to grease a car.” Bella looked at her grandfather. “Going all out, aren’t we?”

  Bobby smiled. “Well, I had to make sure we had enough food for our guest. Johnny told me that she has quite the healthy appetite.”

  Bella’s eyes flicked to me. For the second time that evening, I found myself blushing. My stomach gurgled again, this time loud enough for everyone to hear. Bella looked shocked by the grumbling sound, while the men seemed amused.

  “Guilty as charged,” I said, reaching for the nearest dish.

  * * *

  We spent the next hour dining and making small talk. The Bullucis were a delightful bunch, merry and funny with no hints of the self-importance and pretentiousness that plagued so many on the society circuit. They didn’t take themselves or anyone else too seriously. Even Bella loosened up a bit and let me see that she had a dry, biting sense of humor under her by-the-book façade. She was the straight woman who kept the men in line. As much as she could anyway.

  But I was most impressed by the food. Everything was just as scrumptious as Bobby had promised it would be. The vegetables were fresh, crisp, and perfectly seasoned. The bread was warm and chewy. And the steak was so tender I could have cut it with a toothpick.

  I took big portions of everything and wolfed them down in about fifteen minutes. Then, I went back for seconds. I finished those up about the time the others had washed down their first helpings with a superb bottle of wine. I eyed the platters, wondering if I dared to take any more food. I didn’t want to come across as a total glutton. Johnny saw me eyeing the potatoes with barely restrained desire.

  “Let me guess. You didn’t have breakfast or lunch again today,” Johnny said, sliding his half-eaten steak over to me.

  I looked down at the juicy, medium-well steak. A man who gave up his food for me? I could get used to this. Quite easily. The thought startled me, but not enough to make me turn down the meat. I stabbed my fork at him. “You guessed it.”

  So, I ate the rest of his steak.

  And the bread.

  And the potatoes.

  And the wine.

  In the end, I gobbled down more than the three of them put together. Bella looked back and forth at me and the now-empty platters. Then, she turned her gaze to her brother. Johnny shrugged. Bella probably thought I had an eating disorder, just like Piper did. I’d probably find more pamphlets on my desk in the morning. Ah, well. The steak alone had been worth it.

  More servants appeared to clear the dishes away and present us with a monstrous three-tiered cake. The flavor came as a bit of a surprise to me, although it really shouldn’t have.

  It was angel food, of course.

  The cake, topped with cherries, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream, was just as wonderful as everything else had been. I ate four big pieces and put my fork down in contentment. Steak and potatoes were wonderful, high-calorie, filling, stick-to-your ribs food. I’d be all right until I got my midnight snack.

  “Well, I don’t know about you young folks, but this old man is ready for bed,” Bobby announced, pushing his chair away from the table. “Too much wine and food make me sleepy these days.”

  Bella also rose to her feet. “I’ll help you, Grandfather.” She looked at Johnny and me. “I’m sure Johnny and Fiona would like some time to themselves.”

  Johnny turned to me. “I’ll show you around the house.” The devilish glint in his eyes told me that the tour would probably end up in his bedroom. I wasn’t sure quite how I felt about that. Other than hot and panting.

  Bella and Bobby disappeared up a flight of stairs, while Johnny led me down a series of wide hallways. Strolling through the house was a little like walking through a church. More angels decorated everything from paintings to furniture to even the carpet under our feet.

  We reached a hall filled with large oil paintings. Smiling, similar-looking people sat in the portraits, their eyes filled with light and joy. I didn’t need Johnny to tell me that I was staring at pictures of the Bullucis through the centuries.

  Johnny tugged me down the hall, stopping at a portrait of a middle-aged man on a motorcycle. “This is my father, James. I wasn’t sure if you remembered him or not. He wasn’t much for the society scene, preferring to concentrate on looking after our business interests. He rarely attended events, preferring to leave that to Bella and Grandfather.”

  I stared at the picture. Blue eyes. Tan skin. A mane of chestnut hair. James Bulluci had been a handsome man. But the more I looked at the picture, the more it bothered me. There was something else very familiar about James Bulluci. Something in his eyes and the set of his jaw reminded me of—

  “And this is my mother, Lucia,” Johnny continued, pointing to the next portrait.

  My tremulous thought fled. Johnny hadn’t been bragging earlier when he’d said he’d inherited his mother’s good looks. Blond hair. Green eyes. Fabulous figure. Tawny skin. Lucia Bulluci was a goddess in mortal form.

  “Funny, I don’t remember her either,” I said, staring at the picture.

  “She died when I was a teenager,” Johnny said. Sadness colored his voice, a sadness I recognized.

  “My mother died when I was young too,” I said, squeezing his hand.

  “What about your father? You don’t talk about him much.”

  I hesitated. I couldn’t tell Johnny who my father really was, but I didn’t want to deceive him either. “Oh, he’s...around. His work takes up a lot of his time, and we don’t see as much of each other as we’d like.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie. The only times I got to see the chief these days were when we went out as Fiera and Mr. Sage to do battle with Bigtime’s ubervillains or braved the society crowd at the latest benefit.

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s in, ah, security.” Another half-truth.

  “Like a bodyguard?”

  “Sort of.” Did protectin
g the citizens of Bigtime from ubervillains qualify you to be a bodyguard? I supposed it did.

  “What’s his name?”

  Finally, an easy one. “Sean.”

  “Sean? That’s very Irish.”

  I laughed. “We’re a very Irish sort of family. My mother’s name was Finola.”

  “Irish, huh? Does that mean if I kiss you, I’ll have good luck for the rest of the year?”

  I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “I don’t know about having good luck in the future, but you just might get lucky tonight.”

  “Well, then, let’s test your theory out right now,” he murmured.

  Johnny dipped his head forward and kissed me. His lips felt like liquid fire on my own. I opened my mouth, and Johnny darted his tongue inside. He tasted like chocolate and wine, and his spicy scent filled my nostrils. Yummy.

  Johnny eased me up against the wall. We kept kissing, our tongues moving back and forth. I raised one leg around his waist. Johnny’s sure, confident hands moved up and down my body. Kneading. Caressing. Sculpting. He moved from my breasts to my stomach down to the junction between my thighs. I hissed as he stroked me through my silken panties, and a warm, heavy wetness pooled between my legs.

  “Would you care to continue the tour? Say, upstairs?” Johnny nibbled on the side of my neck.

  Tingles of pleasure shot through me. My neck was very sensitive. I dug my fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. “Is that where your bedroom is?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Johnny continued to kiss my neck as one hand cupped my breast. “So what do you say?”

  Breathless, I couldn’t speak. I raised his head and stared in his shimmering green eyes. I opened my mouth to respond, but Johnny swooped in and cut me off with another hot kiss.

  Then, the worst thing in the world happened.

  My cell phone rang.

  Chapter Fourteen