Dark Masquerade: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Michelle Love

  “Perfect. We’ll see you then.”

  Elli said goodbye, feeling somewhat discombobulated. It was unusual for such a big star to be readily available, especially during the festival, with press junkets, photo calls, and high-level studio meetings.

  Elli’s hands clenched into fists, and she resisted the urge to go into one of her research frenzies. You wouldn’t be looking for things to talk about with L’Amour, she told herself. You’d be looking for links to Aldo. So don’t do it.

  The thought of Aldo immediately brought his face to mind. She had very vivid memories of him—the man who had picked her up from the ground the day his car had nearly hit her, the man who made love to her, the man who presented her to other men for fucking at the Masquerade Orgy …and the man who had plunged a knife into her belly again and again. Those images haunted her. Elli wished she had been conscious when Indio had shot Aldo dead so she could focus on the fact that he was really gone. By the time she’d woken from a coma a month later, Aldo’s body had been cremated, so she had been robbed of seeing him dead. His ghost haunted her more than she let anyone else, especially Indio, know.

  She pushed the thoughts aside and limited herself to L’Amour’s Wikipedia and IMDB pages, neither giving her very much information about the man, but there was enough to open channels of discussion. She read through his filmography, noting one or two movies that she’d seen with Indio, but failing to remember the blonde actor in them. So much for impact, she smirked to herself. She didn’t hold out much hope this would be a fulfilling job and until it was time to leave and go to the Lido, where Zane L’Amour was staying at the Hotel Excelsior, she concentrated on administration duties, replying to emails.

  Elli walked into the palatial and stunning hotel, where she was quickly collected by L’Amour’s publicist, a harried-looking woman called Cherry. Elli expected to be given a list of ‘What to ask/What not to Ask’ (which she usually ignored anyway), but instead she was shown directly to L’ Amour’s suite. Cherry introduced her, then disappeared.

  Zane L’Amour was a lot better looking in person. He had a rangy look and Elli was surprised to find a southern accent and an easy manner. He grinned at her. “Sorry about the short notice, Ms. Moretti. Hope it didn’t inconvenience you.”

  “It’s Elli and it’s no problem.” Elli sat down and pulled out her notebook. “I do want to thank you for asking me here.”

  Zane took the notebook from her hand and put it on the table. “Let’s just chat, break the ice for a while.

  Eli folded her hands in her lap, feeling a little awkward. Her notepad was the thing she hid behind. “If you like. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here in Venice?”

  Zane nodded and Elli noticed, to her surprise, that he seemed a little nervous. He was about her age—thirty-one—and he came from North Carolina. “I never expected to make it in Hollywood,” he said, almost sheepishly, “I took a chance and it worked out.”

  “I have to ask,” Elli said, warming to him. “Why the name change?”

  Zane rolled his eyes. “Right? Wasn’t my idea, I swear, and I’d change it if I could, but everyone tells me not to. So I’m stuck with a name that sounds like it comes from a bad romance novel.”

  “I have an idea. Marry your girlfriend and take her name. Much more acceptable, plus you’d win major points with your female audience.”

  Zane laughed and shook his head. “Man, you know nothing about Hollywood, do you?”

  Elli grinned. “Nope, not a thing. Usually, during the Film Festival, I’m off squirreling away, digging up the dirt that the politicians and businessmen hope to be hiding from a distracted press.”

  “So why aren’t you doing it this time?”

  Elli cursed silently. She hadn’t meant to be so open, and she didn’t have an answer for him. She didn’t want to tell him about Aldo or her fear of his continuing influence. “No one’s hiding anything this year,” she said lightly. “Anyway, back to you.”

  “Well,” Zane said slowly, “About that name thing, I don’t actually have a girlfriend whose name I could take.”

  Elli frowned and checked her research. “You’re not dating Lannister Edge? Also a weird name, by the way.”

  Zane laughed. “No, she’s a good friend, but so very, very gay. I’m her beard, happily so. I prefer to remain single.”

  “Any reason?”

  He shrugged. “I like being alone. Also, I don’t believe in dating unless it’s with somebody I really find a connection with.”

  He held her gaze for a beat too long, and Elli looked away. “So, you’re looking for the lightning moment?”

  “I am, I admit it. Do you believe in that, Elli?”

  Now she looked at him steadily. “I do. I had that moment with my husband, god, how many years ago now? Twenty-two years ago. I was nine, he was eighteen. There’s never been anyone since to match it. Never will be.”

  Zane grinned good-naturedly. “Dang, married. Can’t a guy catch a break?” But he said it in such a humorous way that Elli couldn’t feel awkward and, instead, burst out laughing.

  “Suck it up, pretty boy, and find your own wife.”

  Zane shook his head, smiling. “Beautiful, smart, and funny.”

  “Stop flirting with me, L’Amour … god, how can you with that name? What’s wrong with Steve Miller?” Elli was chuckling now, at ease with this man now that the tension in the room had been broken. He was a nice guy under all the Hollywood sheen, a down-to-earth Southern sweetheart, and she liked him very much.

  Zane smirked. “Well, they do call me the Joker.”

  Elli snorted with laughter. “Not the Space Cowboy?”

  “No, just Maurice.” Zane grinned, singing a few lines from ‘The Joker.'

  “Can I call you Steve instead?” Elli tucked her legs up under her as they talked.

  Zane shook his head. “Nah, for better or worse, I’m Zane now. Even my mom calls me Zane, which is so weird.”

  “Tell me about your family.” Elli noticed his smile faded a little.

  “Just me and my mom. My dad …he wasn’t around much, if at all, actually. They never married.”

  “Siblings?”

  Zane hesitated a little. “Two brothers. Half-brothers. One died a few years ago.”

  Elli saw the sadness in his eyes. “Oh, I am sorry.”

  “Thanks. Hey, look, let’s go sit on the balcony and finish our talk. Shame to waste the sun and the view.”

  Elli got back to the office later than she expected, but both Vivienne and Elli’s friend, Tandy, were still there. Tandy, a beautiful Asian-American, had traveled around the world after working as the magazine’s intern, and since she had returned, was now their head travel writer. It was a rare occasion when she back in town and Elli hugged her. “You’re staying with Indio and me, right?”

  “Try and stop me,” Tandy grinned, sitting on Elli’s desk. “So, you got to interview Zane I’m-not-going-to-say-his-surname-because-it’s-ridiculous?”

  Elli laughed. “Yes, I did, and yes, it is. Even he says so. Nice guy. More interesting than his resume would lead you to believe. You’ve just come back from …?”

  “Myanmar. But I want to hear about the movie star.”

  “Later, at dinner. Indio’s cooking.”

  “Thank god.”

  “Shut up.”

  “So, really, what was he like?”

  Elli rolled her eyes. Tandy had obviously been dying to ask the question all evening, and now they were sitting outside in the warm evening. Elli was curled into Indio on the loveseat and Tandy sprawled on the grass, her long legs stuck out behind her. Her dyed-blue hair was piled up on top of her head and she looked like a teenager again. Elli smiled at her.

  “He was nice, polite, funny …and single, Tand. You should go for it.”

  Tandy made a face. “That’s not why I’m asking, and anyway, now he’s seen you in the flesh, none of us stand a chance.”

  “Ha, ha, I’m taken.”

  “
Yeah you are,” Indio said, drawling the words. Elli noticed he was almost asleep and giggled, kissing his neck. “Sleepyhead.”

  Tandy gave a cough, which sounded suspiciously like “old man.” Indio, his eyes half closed, cheerfully gave her the finger and she laughed. Tandy had known Elli when Indio had been exiled from her and had seen how desperately Elli loved and missed him. When Tandy and Indio had finally met, they had sized each other up suspiciously, then seemingly mutually had decided to treat each other almost as siblings. Indio, an only child, had never had a sister to tease before, and Tandy, seeing how much he loved Elli, fit into the role of sarcastic younger sibling easily.

  “What do you think of this guy, Indy? A famous movie star, flirting with your wife.”

  Indio shrugged. He had no problem with people flirting with Elli because he was secure in her love for him. “He has good taste.” He pressed his lips to Elli’s forehead, and she smiled up at him, her eyes soft with love.

  Tandy watched them, grinning, then pulled a face. “Bleurgh. I’m going to bed before you two make me hurl.”

  Alone, Elli cuddled in closer to her sleepy husband. Indio tightened his arms around her. “You know, with Tandy staying here, we might have to reign in some of our more …vocal …tendencies in the bedroom.”

  Elli chuckled. “As if Tandy would care. Besides,” she slipped her hand down to his crotch and cupped his cock through his jeans. “There’s no way this can keep me quiet.” She squeezed his cock and he groaned. Elli could feel how hard he was getting and smiled. She slipped from his lap to kneel between his legs and unzipped his jeans. “I challenge you, Indio Navaro, to keep quiet while I do this.”

  She freed his cock, trembling and rigid, from his jeans and took it into her mouth, sliding her tongue up and down the silky shaft. Indio groaned softly, his hands stroking her soft hair as she teased him. Elli traced a pattern across the sensitive tip, up and down the length of him, tasting the salty pre-cum, feeling his cock quiver and vibrate under her touch.

  “God, Elli …” His whisper was ragged, his fingers gripping her head as she worked on him and his body shuddering as he neared his peak. Elli massaged his sac with her hands, pressing a fingertip hard into the sensitive place behind his balls, and Indio came, trying to stifle his cry, whispering her name over and over as he shot thick creamy cum onto her tongue. Elli continued to lick and taste him as she swallowed his seed, not letting him recover or catch his breath before his cock responded again.

  This time, though, as he began to get so hard it was almost painful, he drew away and pushed her back onto the grass, reaching under her skirt to yank her panties from her and pressing her knees to her chest. He plunged his cock deep, so deep into her cunt that Elli had to cry out. Indio clamped a hand over her mouth, grinning and shaking her head. “No noise, baby.”

  He placed his hands either side of her head and thrust hard and deep, and Elli gazed up at him as sweet sensations flooded through her body. “Indio …” She whispered, and he kissed her, his mouth rough on hers as his pace began to quicken.

  “I’m going to pound you into the Earth, my Elli Bella, fuck you until you can’t walk straight for three days.”

  Elli gave a soft groan at his words, deliriously aroused, her whole body tingling until she could hardly bear it. Indio kissed her to muffle her cry as she came, her body undulating beneath his as he thrust harder and deeper, his cock mercilessly drilling into her red, swollen cunt. Elli arched her back, pressing her belly to his as she came.

  Afterward, collapsed on the grass together, Elli grinned over at her beloved Indio. “I’m never, ever going to get tired of that as long as I live.”

  Indio chuckled. “We do seem to have it down, don’t we?”

  Elli’s eyes softened as she gazed at him. “God, you are a beautiful man, Indio Navaro. I can’t wait to have a mini-you running around this place.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You haven’t talked about having children for a long time.”

  Elli shrugged. “I’m selfish. I wanted you all to myself. But maybe we should start to talk about it in the next few years.”

  Indio smiled. “I would like that. You know, baby, I’m happy whatever happens as long as I have you.”

  “You’ll always have me, il mio amore.”

  Indio leaned over and kissed her, his lips tender against hers. “Ti amo, Elli Bella.”

  “Ti amo, Indio.”

  Vivienne, her red hair uncharacteristically messy, greeted Elli the next day at work. “You were a hit with our movie star,” she said with a grin. “His publicist called and asked if you would call her back about another project L’Amour’s interested in working on with you.”

  Elli was surprised. “Really?” She frowned. “Can’t think what it might be.” She looked at her boss. “Viv …you have yesterday’s clothes on.”

  Vivienne flushed scarlet. “Um …”

  “You got laid! Hallelujah!” Elli did a celebratory dance around the room, and Vivienne laughed, mock-scowling at her friend.

  “Remind me to fire you, Mrs. Navaro.”

  Elli stopped dancing, grinning. “Hey, at work, I’m still Moretti.”

  “For the sisterhood.”

  “For the sisterhood—as long as you don’t tell them that it was Indio’s idea to keep my maiden name for work.”

  Vivienne laughed. “Yeah, that does rather ruin the feminist thing.”

  “Anyways, don’t change the subject. Who, what, when, how?”

  “None of your beeswax,” Vivienne said archly, but then she smiled. “It’s early days. Can I just keep it to myself until it is actually something?”

  Elli hugged her. “Of course. I’m very happy for you, Viv. You deserve something nice to happen. I’m going to call Cherry back.”

  “Good. Let me know what she says.”

  “A biography?”

  “That’s what Zane says.” Cheery, sounding weary, sighed. “Look, I told him it’s way too early in his career to be thinking about that, but he is insisting. Movie stars.” She said with feeling at the end, and Elli had to laugh at her woebegone tone.

  “Male movie stars, in particular.”

  Cherry laughed. “You don’t have to tell me that; I used to work for Kit Mallory.”

  “That’s cool …I’ve met his brother, Grady.”

  “You have? Grady’s lovely. Kit, God rest his soul, was a handful. Anyway, we’re getting off the subject. Would you be interested in being Zane’s ghost-writer for this?”

  Elli considered. “I would have to think about it. It would have to fit around my work—I’m not going to give up my day-to-day, and I also have a family to think about. So, if Zane wanted to meet to talk about it, it would be on the condition that he understood that it would be third on my priority list.”

  “Understood. I’ll talk to him. Thanks for considering it, though, Elli. He can be like a dog with a bone if I don’t tell him something positive.”

  Elli chewed her lip. “Cherry, can I ask? You seem very talented and very professional. Doesn’t it drive you mad to deal with all that ego day-to-day?”

  “Ha,” Cherry laughed, “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But the truth is—I like the rush. Someone like Zane, throwing a diva temper about something, and I love the adrenaline rush I get from slapping them down and telling them no. Does that make me sound mad?”

  Elli laughed. “Not at all. I actually think interviewing you would be even more fun than your wards.”

  “You’re sweet, Elli, but I like to remain anonymous. Can I tell Zane you’ll call him?”

  “You can. Thanks, Cherry.”

  When she went back to see Vivienne, Elli saw she had tidied herself and now looked like the effortlessly graceful and elegant Viv she knew. Vivienne grinned at the twinkle in Elli’s eye as she looked at her friend. “And you can stop that right now, Elliana Moretti. Work, please. Tell me what Cherry said.”

  Elli repeated the request that Zane L’Amour had made and the conditions she h
ad placed on considering the offer. Vivienne nodded thoughtfully.

  “You know, Els, a book is the logical next step for you. I’ve been wondering about that for the last couple of years. Since Aldo.”

  Elli’s smile faded. “Viv …”

  Viv held her hands up. “Hear me out. What you went through was horrific, but god, Elli, look at the story there. You, Indio, Aldo, Yvetta …you don’t think people would want to read about it?”

  Elli drew in a deep breath. “Viv …Indio and I are talking kids. Soon. I really don’t want the publicity that would come with writing a book about how I nearly died at the hands of a psychopath. To have it out there. And I know the truth. Indio and you and our friends know the truth, but it would still be seen as a ‘he said, she said’ thing, with the other party being dead and unable to respond. No, it’s not for me. Hell, I don’t even know if I want to write a book.”

  She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase the memories of Aldo, of his face as he was trying to kill her, the twisted fury, the hatred. She could still smell her own blood, salty, hot. She closed her eyes.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Just …the thought of dredging it all up.”

  “I understand. Have you thought that someday, someone will write about it?”

  Elli shrugged. “I know. I’m trying to pretend that won’t happen. Look, I don’t know if I’m going to do this, I really don’t, but I’ll at least talk to Zane about it.”

  She told Indio about it as they cleared the dinner plates later that evening. Tandy had gone to dinner with a friend and so, as they lingered over a bottle of wine, Elli asked Indio what he thought about her writing a book.

  “To be honest, Elli Bella, I’m surprised you haven’t written one yet.”

  “That’s what Viv said. I honestly never considered it …well, not for a while, anyway. When I was younger, I used to think I’d write romance novels, with you as my hero in every one of them.” She grinned as Indio laughed.

  “I’m glad to hear it. But, yeah, I think you should seriously consider Zane’s offer.”