Eternity of Love: Los Angeles Armstrongs - A Billionaire Romance (The Armstrongs Book 9)

by Jessica Gray

  “Yes. Actually, with the tourist.”

  “They guy you almost ran over?” he asked incredulously.

  “One and the same.”

  “He should have paid for the damages to the Vespa instead of asking you out,” Roberto growled.

  “No reason for you to be jealous, remember? And, he did offer to pay for the repair, but I refused.” The thought of Preston sent her stomach into a tizzy.

  “You should have taken the money. Pride doesn’t pay the bills.” Roberto shook his head.

  “It wasn’t pride!”

  “Sure it wasn’t,” he agreed on a laugh. “Hop out and I’ll continue to my workshop to fix your Vespa. Call me later this evening and I’ll tell you by when it’s ready for you to pick up.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” she said, looking at his overly innocent face. Checking up on me. “But I’ll give you the peace of mind and call.” Gina grimaced at him and slipped from the truck. Then she waved goodbye and hurried inside to shower and get ready for her date.

  Gina came out of the shower half an hour later, looking at the discarded jeans lying on the floor and shook her head, “Well, these are useless.” She picked them up and tossed them in the nearest trashcan before heading to her closet and staring at the clothes hanging there.

  “What to wear?” she pondered for several minutes. If Preston would take her someplace posh, she wanted to look the part. Therefore she opted for overdressed rather than underdressed.

  Gina pushed aside her jeans and the more casual items, choosing instead from the meager collection of evening dresses she owned. Two, actually. Her choice fell on a short midnight blue sequined dress with long sleeves, a scooping neckline in the back, and a hemline that was just below mid-thigh. It was elegant, exposed a dangerous amount of cleavage without looking cheap, and the stretchy, shining material hugged her body like a glove. Perfect.

  Then she blow-dried her hair to achieve that skillfully tousled look, letting the soft waves flow over her shoulders and down her back. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and completed her look with smoky eye shadow and dark blush, an extra brush of black wonderlash mascara. At last, she swiped gloss over her lips.

  Then Gina donned dangerously high strappy heels in the same midnight blue color of the dress, exposing her brilliant-red painted toes and grabbed her evening purse. She glanced at her watch and shrugged when she realized she’d be more than a few minutes late.

  Chapter 9

  Preston glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time, feeling like a complete idiot. Since more than twenty minutes, he’d been standing in front of the Trevi fountain, waiting for Gina to arrive.

  But she had stood him up. What did you expect? She’s as unreliable as every other woman you’re not related to.

  He shook his head and turned around, intending to return to the hotel, when he saw her. His jaw fell to the ground and all he could do was stare at her as she walked – no strode like a majesty – towards him. That woman was a vision, and judging by the glint in her eyes, she knew it.

  Gina was wearing impossibly tall heels that made her legs look a mile long, and the little midnight blue dress she was wearing showcased her perfect hourglass figure. His eyes were magically drawn along her curves up to her cleavage, a cleavage that could easily be sold as a deathly weapon.

  Preston tore his eyes away from her to glance around, half expecting an army of devoted followers. And sure enough, her approach had turned the heads of more than one man in the vicinity, much to the dismay of their female company.

  Once again Preston had to fight his body’s response to Gina. She was sex on heels, and the sultry look she gave him only served to heat his blood more.

  “Sorry for being late,” She said with a breathtaking smile and his anger was blown away – as was his ability to concentrate on anything other than the stunning woman in front of him.

  “No problem. You look stunning,” he said.

  “So do you,” she answered.

  “I was actually worried, you might be dressed too casually for where we’re going.” With a look to her high heels he asked, “Can you walk about ten minutes or should we take a taxi?”

  “Of course I can walk.” She shot him a disdainful look and added, “I have heels higher than these. I’m Italian. I was born in high heels.”

  “Well, they look amazing. You look amazing. Let’s go,” he said and turned them into the right direction with a hand on her lower back. “It’s not far from here.”

  If Gina was curious where he’d take her, she didn’t show it. Sandrine would have demanded to know, so she could decide whether the place was exclusive enough to be granted her presence. He shrugged. In hindsight he could understand why his family had warned him about her. He apparently had been the only one not to see Sandrine’s selfish, superficial behavior. I definitely need a night of hot sex to forget that leech. And Gina was just the right woman to make that happen.

  Throughout their walk to the Tantalou nightclub, the heads of most men turned after them, staring at Gina. Preston felt a sense of pride that she was with him, but also jealousy at the unconcealed lust in their eyes. Nobody should look at her this way, except me! Hey, wait, where did that come from? You’re just playing and having fun here, remember? This is a one-night deal to forget your cheating bitch of an ex.

  But just to prevent any misunderstandings, he put his arm around her waist and held her tighter. Much to his surprise, she leaned into his embrace. Sparks of electricity flowing from where his palm touched her fabric covered curves.

  “Here it is,” he said, as they reached the big bright neon sign Tantalou. Gina’s head turned, obviously following the massive line of patrons waiting to gain entrance. The queue reached to the end of the block and around the corner.

  Preston grinned and walked straight up to the security guard checking I.D.s. Being a billionaire did come with some perks.

  “I’m Preston Armstrong. You’ll find my name on the guest list,” he said.

  The bouncer checked the VIP list and nodded, “Welcome to Tantalou, Mr. Armstrong. Enjoy you’re evening.” Then he lifted the barrier rope and grinned as several people in the line behind them complained.

  “Is Marco here tonight?” Preston asked.

  “Sure is,” the bouncer nodded, “Should I let him know you arrived?”

  “Yes please,” Preston answered and put his hand on Gina’s waist to lead her inside.

  “Who is Marco?” she asked him as they worked their way through the crowd to the restaurant portion of the nightclub.

  “The owner of this establishment,” Preston answered and watched the dining tables filling up with patrons.

  “And you know him?” she asked looking around the crowded place. “I thought you needed to make reservations months in advance in this place.”

  “Normally it does. It pays to know people.”

  Out of nowhere a waitress appeared and led them over to a reserved table in the corner of the dance floor. Then she presented them two flutes of Italian Prosecco.

  Preston reached for the drinks and handed one glass to Gina.

  “To a beautiful woman,” he said and clinked glasses with her.

  “And to you for brining me to such a beautiful place.” Gina sipped her Prosecco and the simple gesture of bringing the elegant flute to her lips turned him on like a five-minute lap dance. He definitely needed to get a grip on his reaction to her.

  Tantalou was the dance club to visit in Rome. In one of the best locations in the city, it did not only feature the hottest DJs, but had also earned laurels for it’s exquisite cuisine. Ever night it drew a crowd of locals and international tourists alike.

  On the weekends the atmosphere changed to more of a lounge style, but as the evening progressed, it would give way to a darker feel with cocktails and dance music. DJ from around the world had performed in the club, and chefs from around the world had cooked for the restaurant goers.

  They had just ordered
when the owner of the nightclub arrived at their table.

  “Preston, it’s good to see you. And who is this lovely young lady?”

  “Marco, this is Gina Giordano. She has graciously agreed to be my date for the evening.” Preston answered and made the introductions.

  “Signorina Giordano, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Marco said offering her a slight bow. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  “I’m sure we will, we ordered the special of the day and plan to hit the dance floor later.”

  “Oh the special. You’ll love it. Our guest chef is from Thailand and his food is...” Marco clicked his tongue. “How’s your new venture going?”

  Preston shrugged and made a face, “We’ll see. It’s early days yet.”

  “That means you’re already positive it’s going to be a big hit.” He turned to Gina, “This man here is much too humble, but he knows his business. Have a nice night folks.”

  “So, are you somebody important?” Gina blurted out.

  “That depends,” Preston chuckled. He’d debated whether to tell her or not.

  “On?” she queried.

  “Your definition of important.”

  Gina pulled a face, “Then, tell me what you do for a living.”

  “I own things,” he hedged his answer.

  Gina narrowed her eyes at him and apparently replayed the events of the day. After a while she cocked her head to the side and asked with a triumphant smile, “Things like the Palazzo Borghese?”

  “Yes, and about twenty more hotels and resorts around the world.” Preston chuckled. And waited. This was the moment when people were impressed and changed their attitude. Most women seemed to see him only as a big, fat wallet full of dollar notes.

  “Cool.” Gina shrugged and took a juicy Bruschetta the waitress had offered them for Hors d’oeuvre.

  Wow. Now he was impressed. Not only by her non-reaction, but also by the sensual way she bit into her Bruschetta and savored every last bite of it. Soon their meal arrived.

  “How do you like Rome?” she asked, taking a bit of her Thai curry.

  “It’s a nice city, with some crazy traffic.”

  “I take it you haven’t seen much of Rome if nice is the only adjective you could come up with.” Gina raised a brow at him, but her eyes shone with joy.

  “You’re right. I work too much to see the usual tourist stuff.” Preston leaned back and observed her. She definitely was the most attractive woman in the room.

  “It’s not just touristy stuff, it’s the cultural heritage of the Western civilization.” Her voice was calm, but her flashing eyes betrayed her temper. “As a tourist guide, I can tell…”

  “You’re a tourist guide?”

  “Yes.”

  “So how about a private tour?” he asked with a grin.

  “Wouldn’t you like that? And I thought tonight was about fun, not work.” Her fir-green eyes threw him a silent challenge. A challenge he was only too willing to take up.

  “Well, in that case, we should hit the dance floor.” He finished his meal, stood up and held out a hand to her. When she put her tiny hand into his, a tingling feeling spread across his body, and he yearned to wrap his arms around her and carry her away to someplace private.

  Instead he lead her onto the crowded dance floor. Meanwhile the music had changed to fat-paced pop music and they way she moved her body to the rhythmic beat of the music had him on the edge.

  The music was much too loud to hold any type of conversation, but that was okay. Preston was busy enough dancing, admiring Gina, and keeping a suspicious eye on any man who dared to approach her a bit too closely. Whenever this happened, he reached out a hand and pulled her into him. Only to prevent her from bumping into someone.

  But every time, he held her a bit longer and a bit tighter in his arms, wishing he’d never have to let her go again. They danced song after song, and soon Preston had to focus on keeping his arousal invisible to the public.

  “Let’s take a break,” he shouted into her ear. When she nodded, he led her back to their table. “A cocktail?”

  “I’d love to.” Gina sat down, slightly breathless, her cheeks rosy and tiny beads of sweat shimmering on her cleavage.

  God, how much I’d like to lick them off of her.

  The waitress arrived within seconds and took their order for two cocktails. Gina took a big sip of her cocktail and then licked the sugary liquid from her lips.

  Preston felt the heat rising in his body and wished he could take the wine cooler on the table and pour the ice over is pants. Maybe that would help. That woman was a siren, and she didn’t even know it.

  Back on the dance floor Preston kept his hands on her hips as she moved about. Gina didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she moved her hips and rubbed against him now and then. Her incessant teasing set his body on fire. And the only thing keeping him from acting on the lust that surged through his veins was the fact that they were in a public venue.

  Chapter 10

  Gina’s irritation with Preston had all but vanished in light of the good time they were having in the nightclub. They danced and drank, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun with a guy she was truly attracted to.

  But then, how was it possible not to have a good time in the hottest nightclub in town? Terrific music, a local live band, and a spectacular DJ during their breaks. Add to that the delicious meal and the savory cocktails.

  This night out was exactly what she’d needed, after nothing but study and work for ages. She didn’t even remember the last time she’d gone out dancing. Definitely not to a place like Tantalou. It was way out of her budget. Gina decided to enjoy the night to the fullest and smiled as another fast-paced song came over the speakers.

  Since she’d met Preston at the Trevi fountain, his eyes had been glued to her, making her feel she was the only existing woman in the world. His protectiveness and the glaring stares he sent to any man approaching her nearer than several feet, were both sweet and immensely arousing.

  His dark blue eyes held betrayed his attraction for her and conveyed an enticing promise. Whenever his glance swept over her body, she could feel the thrills rushing up and down her skin as if he had actually touched her. Gina decided to kindle the simmering fire between them just a bit and spun around to shimmy her backside to his front.

  Preston’s reaction was immediate. He grabbed her hips and grinded them against the hard bulge in his pants. The only worrisome thing was her body’s reaction to him. Soon enough she’d lost her calm and was humming with as much need as he was. So now, who’s seducing whom?

  He spun her around, bracketing her in his strong arms, her body pressed flush against him. As they moved with the rhythm of the music, she felt her nipples harden as they rubbed against his hard chest. The moment she looked up into his eyes, it was like setting a match to kindling and her entire body ignited. His mouth hovered over her face and she sensed his warm breath caressing her ears, her cheeks and her neck. Soon, she’d melt like a puddle to his feet – or jump him right here on the dance floor.

  The intimidate moment was disturbed by vibrations in her tiny evening bag. Stupid cell phone. He must have sensed it to, because he released her from his arms and pointed towards her bag. The little nuisance kept chirping and vibrating and she finally fished the phone out of her evening bag with a sigh.

  Shit! Roberto. It was going on midnight and she should have called him hours ago to make arrangements to retrieve her Vespa and to give him an answer to his date request.

  “Sorry, I have to answer this,” she shouted into Preston’s ear and then retreated to the quiet of the ladies’ room to return Roberto’s call.

  “Roberto? I’m so sorry…”

  “Where are you?” he demanded in an angry tone.

  “I’m dancing. I’m sorry but I completely forgot to call…”

  “You’re still with this…tourist?” he asked, and she could tell he was trying to contain his jealousy.

>   “Yes.” Gina stepped aside as two women entered the room.

  “Be careful. He’s a stranger and you can’t be sure he’s trustworthy.”

  Gina bit back her retort. From early childhood, her older brother and Roberto had “kept an eye on her” and told her what to do or not to do. While sometimes their protection had come in handy, most of the time it had been simply annoying.

  “Did you hear me? You need to go home, right now. In fact…”

  “Roberto, stop it!” she said, grimacing at her reflection in the mirror. “Quit thinking you have any say over how I run my life or what and whom I do it with.”

  “Gina, I’m only looking out for you. Protect you from doing something stupid that you’ll regret in the morning.”

  “I’m a big girl and I’ve been making big girl decision for years now.” She scowled.

  “You still need someone to keep you safe,” Roberto continued as if she’d not said anything in her defense.

  “Ha. I’m able to watch out for myself, and I might just go ahead and sleep with him to prove it, ” Gina fumed.

  “Gina don’t!” Roberto protested, but she’d already disconnected the call.

  She scowled into the mirror and then a smirk crossed her face. Well, the idea does have some merit. She could kill two birds with one stone. Prove Roberto that she wasn’t interested in him, and find out just how intense the heat between her and Preston would get.

  Gina didn’t normally engage in one-night stands, thanks to her very traditional upbringing. But tradition and scruple had been thrown out the window the first time Preston had touched her.

  She wanted him and she was going to have him. Tonight.

  No one had the power to say differently. At the age of twenty-four, it was high time she had her first one-night stand.

  Gina grabbed powder and lip gloss from her purse and freshened up. Ready to go for the kill, she returned to their table at besides the dance floor. Preston was sitting there with another man, whom she identified as Marco – the owner.

  “I hope you’re enjoying my humble place, Signorina Giordano.”