Secrets and Seduction Las Vegas (Sexy Italian Imports Book 1) (40 page)

An hour later, she crawled into bed. So much to do. Set up a nursery, work with Jarrodd so he could take over her practice while she was out on maternity leave, enroll in childbirth classes. Deep breath—worry about all that tomorrow.

She opened the Italian baby name book that arrived in the mail. She stiffened. “Oh, Lord.” Other than Dante, she’d never met Antonio’s family. A traditional Catholic Italian family, and she’d be introduced as his pregnant girlfriend.

Her blood pressure increased, her breathing became labored, and she felt herself slipping into a panic mode. She immediately clamped off the anxiety and started her relaxation technique, cradling her baby, loving, protecting.

She closed the book, turned off the light, and pulled the cool silk quilt up under her chin. Monica was right, she did get herself into tangles by focusing on work instead of life. Delivering blackmail money for her cousin, she’d met Antonio—her sexy fling. And when she wasn’t paying attention, he slipped into her heart.

Maybe she’d take Antonio’s advice and stop hoping for what she wanted—and make it happen.

Chapter Thirty Three

Monica and Joe’s engagement party guest list had six hundred people RSVP’d. Friends, family, and co-workers were due in an hour. Valerie arrived at five, as requested by her mother, to help get everything set up. The decorations were winery-themed to commemorate the couple’s first date, and the sound of corks being popped reminded Valerie she couldn’t sample the upscale wines.

She took a minute to speak to a bartender, introduced herself, and asked him if he’d do her a favor. She’d be carrying a champagne glass and asked that he fill it with club soda when she requested a refill.

He agreed immediately and asked no questions. She thanked him. He must be used to dealing with recovering alcoholics and secretly pregnant women all the time.

She stepped through the swinging doors into the kitchen to give the chef the final count and saw the baker frosting individual cakes, with Monica and Joe written on each. Her mouth watered as she smelled the frosting—her first craving.

“Could I please have a little taste?”

He smiled and spatula’d a pile of the sweet fluff onto a plate for her.

She took a spoonful, tasted, and sighed. “Ohhh, this is delicious.”

“It was my father’s recipe.” The baker said with a German accent. “I brought it with me from the homeland.”

“It’s yummy. I’m going to order a gallon sent to my house.”

He took his business card from his breast pocket and handed it to her. “I’ve had that request before, and I’d be happy to accommodate.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be my downfall.” She spooned a big bite into her mouth as Antonio stepped into the kitchen.

When he saw what was on her plate, he laughed. “You’re seriously eating frosting?”

With her mouth full, she smiled and nodded.

He walked up to her and opened his mouth. “Let me try.”

She fed him with her spoon. His eyes opened wide. “This is fantastic.”

“
Danke
.” The baker smiled. “Old family recipe.”

“Do you make wedding cakes?” Antonio asked, winking at Valerie.

She blushed. Antonio kissed her. The chef rolled his eyes.

****

The cocktail hour passed quickly. Antonio didn’t notice that Valerie kept her glass filled with charge water. Monica and Joe seemed exceedingly happy. Mom and Dad held court, sitting at the head table. Dad’s leg, still in the cast, was propped up on a soft ottoman.

When it drew close to seven, Valerie looked for Antonio and spotted him and Ryan in a corner. She walked toward them and listened to what Antonio was saying. “…and I have some real estate, but probably half my money is in the stock market.”

Ryan rubbed his chin. “So exactly how much are you worth—”

“What’s going on here?” she asked brightly, but gave Ryan a warning look.

Antonio put his arm around her. “Ryan was just asking about investing.”

“Yes, little sister. I was just asking.” He said the words slowly, loudly, as if she needed help understanding them.

She assumed Ryan was making sure Antonio had enough money to support her and a family. Still staring at Ryan, she raised her voice, too. “Please excuse Ryan for being so nosy. He’s older but still terribly unwise.”

“Unwise? Me?” He gave her a smarmy look. “Which one of us is in the worse predicament, Vanana?” He spoke far too loudly.

“Vanana?” Antonio repeated, a frown on his face.

She narrowed her eyes at Ryan. “Not a good topic, brother.” She spat the words at her interfering brother.

Ryan arched an eyebrow. “I’m just doing my part to make sure things work out for you.” He squared off, practically yelling at her.

“But I don’t need your help, Ry. I’ve got everything under control.” Valerie got up in his face.

Antonio, his brow furrowed, looked between her and Ryan. As Antonio opened his mouth to speak, Monica stepped between Ryan and Valerie. “What the hell are you fighting about? I can hear you halfway across the room.”

Ryan shrugged. “Just doing the big brother thing and protecting Valerie—”

Monica’s eyes opened wide, she glared at Antonio, then at Valerie. “He hit you again?”

Valerie closed her eyes. Was this conversation really taking place? Beside her, Antonio took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Anger management.

“You’ve been hitting my sister?” Ryan hissed and jabbed a finger at Antonio.

“I never hit your sister.” Antonio told him firmly, then pierced Monica with a dark look. “Damn it, you know it was an accident. Why the hell bring it up again?”

Ryan grabbed Monica’s arm. “Maybe you’d better tell me exactly what happened before I go off on this guy.” He shot Antonio a death glare.

“Well…” Monica began. “About a month ago—”

“A month ago?” Ryan snapped. “It’s been going on for that long, and nobody told me?” He looked at Valerie. “Is that why you haven’t told him about the—”

“Stop!” Valerie jumped in and gave Ryan a shove before he revealed too much. “Please…” She calmed herself, lowered her voice. “Ryan, Monica—Antonio never hit me. We were drinking, I bent down just as Antonio gestured up, we collided, and I bruised. End of story. It was an accident. Ryan doesn’t need to hear the details.”

Monica rubbed Valerie’s arm. “I’m sorry. I saw you arguing over here in the corner, and I just assumed. Antonio, please, forgive me. I don’t know why I said anything.” She held up her wine glass. “I’ve had a little too much already.”

Ryan looked unconvinced. “If there is any question at all, Valerie, that he might hit, you wouldn’t be with him. Right?”

“Of course.” She looked at Antonio. “I am completely in love with this guy, and things couldn’t be better between us.”

Antonio put his arm around her. “I love you too, Vanana.” He looked at Ryan and Monica, then back at Valerie. “It’s your family I’m not so crazy about.”

Valerie laughed, Antonio smiled, and Monica rolled her eyes and chuckled, but Ryan watched them with eagle eyes.

Monica took her brother’s arm. “Come on, Ryan. Leave these two alone for a minute. We’ve done enough damage for one night.”

Ryan looked at Valerie. “All right, but be sure, okay?”

Valerie loved how protective her siblings were, but they did it in such an annoying way. “Absolutely.”

Alone with Antonio, she asked, “How’re you doing?”

He heaved a sigh. “Great. Never better.”

“Yeah….” She glanced at her family as they walked away. “Those two are each one sandwich short of a picnic.”

He laughed. “That’s your professional opinion?”

“Yes. They’re totally certifiable. Which reminds me, have you said ‘Hi’ to Mom and Dad yet?”

“I got them out of the way first. Not too bad. Your mom didn’t bring up Troy once.”

Valerie giggled. “She’s making progress.”

“Fabulous. Do we have to sit with them at dinner?”

“No. We could sneak off and get a room for the night.” Could she coax him into not working at the strip club tonight?

“I would love to, but…” He offered her his arm. “Your family would disown you and have me deported.”

She looked away, disappointed, but she couldn’t deviate from her plan if she wanted to get him to change his life for her. Holding his arm tightly, she looked into his eyes. “Antonio, before we sit down, I have something to say.”

“Sounds serious.”

“I want you to believe that everything in my life revolves around our happiness.” She needed to reassure him of her feelings before she tried to get him to stop dancing.

“That’s rather deep, woman. What’s going on?”

“Just—if you ever doubt my intentions, know that I love you and would do anything for you.”

He stared at her for a minute. “I think we need to talk.”

Her mother waved her over to the table.

“We can’t right now.”

He looked at his watch. “I have to sneak out around eight, but I’ll see you Sunday. And Valerie?”

“Yes?”

“I want to know everything.” His face took on a determined expression. “Whatever’s got Ryan acting like loan shark and you acting like someone I don’t know.”

Her heart broke. He must be totally confused. “Antonio, we’ll work it out.”

“Is it bad?”

“
I
don’t think so.” She gave him a teasing smile. “But practice the deep breathing exercises, just in case?”

“Riiiiight. Now I’m gonna worry.”

“Nothing to lose sleep about.” She kissed him gently, and they took their seats.

****

True to his word, Antonio snuck out promptly at eight.

She stared at her plate, imagining him driving home, changing, applying his tattoos, greasing his hair back, jumping into his Toyota, and heading to The Strip. To strip. It would be great irony if it didn’t make her crazy jealous.

She explained to her family that he was meeting with his agent about his book, which was due Monday. Her mother commented on how strange the life of a writer was and didn’t question the excuse at all.

When dessert arrived, Valerie ate her cake, plus the frosting off the one placed at Antonio’s spot, then scooped more frosting from the plate Ryan slid in front of her. He winked at her. She loved that he was in on her secret and indulging her craving.

Shortly after the dancing began, she congratulated Monica and Joe again, promised to see them soon, and left. She was exhausted. Dealing with Ryan and Monica’s accosting Antonio, trying to pre-explain to Antonio what she was going to do, and all that frosting—she was coming down from a sugar overload.

She crashed into bed, too tired to be nervous about confronting Antonio, and slept peacefully, dreaming she was floating on a cloud made out of frosting.

****

“What the hell is going on with that woman?” Antonio asked himself as he changed in the dancers’ dressing room at the club Saturday night. For the hundredth time, he went over what Valerie had told him at the engagement party.

“If you ever doubt my intentions,”
she’d said,
“I love you and would do anything for you.”

Her strange behavior on Sunday then her apologetic phone call then her cryptic words at the party. Her family was bizarre, but did she have some of the same gene in her? When she’d told him,
“Practice the deep breathing exercises,”
it made him damn edgy.

He’d find out soon enough. Tomorrow was Sunday, and he intended to get her talking, one way or another.

He heard the D.J. call his name. No, not his name; he looked in the mirror and saw Carlos.

He was through deceiving Valerie. He had to either tell her what he did on weekends or quit and hope she never found out. Shit. He’d told himself the same thing at least ten times a day since he met her.

But the rush he got from hearing women scream for him was outrageous. And they were screaming right now. He felt his adrenaline pump, his body juicing up, and his mind racing with excitement.

“Car-los! Car-los!”

The music rose to a deafening pitch. He let the tension build a half minute. He was scheduled to perform three times tonight, and between each dance he walked around the room. He didn’t have to offer women lap dances. They grabbed him and shoved money at him for a few private minutes in a corner.

He walked out toward the stage. Lately, he avoided lap dances. Too many women were inappropriate: touching him, showing too much of themselves, wanting to kiss him—all over. He used to enjoy it, before Valerie.

He leapt up onto the stage wearing a tight T-shirt, shorts, his military boots and a devilish smile. The women went wild. He began his dance. It was choreographed and practiced to please and entice the ladies.

Most evenings, he was offered at least one room key and a promise of a mind blowing one-night stand. Beautiful, sexy, easy women. Usually it was one of the girls from a bachelorette party, but often it was the bride-to-be herself. No wonder he was so soured on marriage. At least he had been, until Valerie. Since that night at Caesar’s Palace when he realized how much she meant to him, he hadn’t slept with anyone else.

He strutted to the end of the stage, turned, and ripped off his shirt. The women shrieked and yelled encouragement. They flashed dollar bills, fives, and even some tens at him. He winked at a few as he danced back to the other end of the stage, struck a pose, and ripped off his shorts. The appreciation grew louder. The room was filled to capacity, every seat around the stage occupied and more women standing behind them, crowding in to offer their money. He slowly danced along the edge of the stage, making eye contact with each one of the beauties here to see him—tried to make them feel like he danced just for them.

He made his way around over half the stage—and saw her. He stopped so fast, he almost fell over his own feet. She sat on a chair at the drink rail at the edge of the stage. It looked like a gin and tonic in front of her. Her hair was pulled back into the long braid he loved. She wore a tight shirt that showed off her breasts and her slim waist. Below that, he couldn’t see what she had on. All these unimportant thoughts went through his mind in less than a second.