SURRENDER IN ROME

Surrender in Rome

By

Bella Ross

Surrender in Rome

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Surrender in Rome

Copyright © 2013 by Bella Ross

All rights reserved.

Cover design by Tamar Assadourian

Published by Bella Ross

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ISBN: 978-0-9919865-0-7

A private car drove Laura Blake back to her hotel. The Westin Excelsior was situated on one of Rome’s most famous avenues, the Via Veneto, immortalized by Fellini’s classic “La Dolce Vita.”

By the time she made her way through the lobby and up the elevators to her room and hopped into the shower it was past midnight. And she was too tired, she thought, to be pissed or angry with Eric for his behavior. It was obvious that Eric Clayton had lost his mind today.

As the hot water sprayed over her, she couldn’t help but recall the day’s events and the crazy circumstances that had brought them both to Rome. It was hardly the ideal situation, in fact, far from it. But she had to go with the flow. Complaining or acting displeased wasn’t going to change anything. It would be petty and futile. After all, she was a professional, and despite every attempt by Eric to turn it personal, she’d contained herself throughout their meeting.

It had run late, longer than she’d anticipated, but thank god it had finally ended. He’d been difficult at every turn, arguing every point, dismissing every idea, all in an attempt to provoke her. On purpose, she knew. All because she’d repeatedly rebuked his advances. It irked him that she didn’t cave, fall at his feet, or reciprocate his interest. It was driving him crazy, crazy enough to push for a reaction – but she wouldn’t give him one.

Playing it cool had been the name of the game. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of getting under her skin, of making her succumb to her emotions. Yes, calm and collected was exactly how she’d dealt with him. Any display of fire would’ve perhaps given the impression or signaled a mutual attraction. At this point, she wasn’t interested in giving him the green light.

As far as she was concerned, they were professional colleagues only, working for one of the most respected public relations firm in the country, and would remain as such for the interim. Besides, crossing professional boundaries was never a good idea anyway. A bad career move. She valued her reputation too much to do otherwise.

However, that didn’t mean she wasn’t flattered or didn’t find him attractive. On the contrary, she found him very attractive. Working with him, being in close proximity to him day in and day out had tested her resolve in a big way. What with his six foot frame, movie star looks, a cross between Ryan Gosling and Brad Pitt, the man was a walking temptation if there ever was one. To compound that, he’d been mercilessly vocal about wanting her, but as usual, she’d resisted. To her dismay, that didn’t stop him, not in the least.

There was nothing Eric loved more than a good challenge. In fact, he thrived on it. So being true to his nature, he continued to pursue, and she’d retreat. He persisted, and she’d rebuffed. The cat and mouse game had been going on for a while, and she didn’t know how much longer she could dodge his advances before she broke.

If all that wasn’t bad enough, she now had to work even closer with him on the latest celebrity debacle. One of his high profile clients was in the midst of a publicity nightmare.

Helena St. Andrews, a young Hollywood starlet was caught by the paparazzi with a married Italian politician frolicking on a yacht on the French Riviera. By the time the couple returned to Rome, news of their escapades had become headline news from coast to coast. The media had gone into a frenzy by reporting every salacious detail they could find to feed a hungry public on both sides of the Atlantic.

Laura knew the repercussions were going to be huge, so did Eric. A scandal of this magnitude required a public relations/crisis management expert with a proven track record in saving careers and reputations before it turned into ashes. She was that person.

The firm had decided that combining their skills on behalf of Helena St. Andrews would be the best course of action. A collective strategy stood a better chance, in their opinion, to deflect the negative press coverage the actress would more than likely receive. Laura didn’t agree, neither had Eric. However, time was of the essence. Egos and personal feelings had to be put aside. They had a job to do.

And even though she wasn’t happy about accompanying him to Rome, Laura knew her expertise in handling such matters would help Eric contain and disperse the crisis faster. In other words, make it go away.

But from the kind of day they’d had, it wasn’t going to be that simple. The actress was nowhere to be found. Messages via phone, text and email had all gone unanswered. With the media up their asses for a statement, none could be given until they had all the facts and a strategy in place.

Meanwhile, there wasn’t much more they could do tonight. Hopefully by tomorrow Helena would turn up and they could get on with the business of putting out the fire before it consumed everything in its path. The last thing she wanted was for this scandal to keep them in Rome indefinitely. Getting back to L.A. as soon as possible was a priority, at least for her.

The sooner the better, she thought wearily, as she stepped out of the shower. Wrapping herself in a white plush towel, she walked into the bedroom. Slipping on a sheer black robe, she twisted her wet hair with a clip and decided she needed a drink.

The suite was luxurious and suited Laura’s taste. The velvet covered chairs and rich damask pattern on the walls and upholstery, the Bohemian chandeliers, and the Biedemeier style furniture made her feel like a queen unwinding in her private quarters. Ever since she joined the public relations firm of Burke & Miller she’d become accustomed to the perks of the job, one of which was staying at world class hotels when travelling on business. It was a definitely a sweet deal. Pouring herself a shot of cognac, she headed to the terrace overlooking the Via Veneto. She flung the doors open and inhaled the rich night air.

She stared out to the horizon, trying to ease her mind toward sleep when she heard the knock at the door.

Who the hell is that at this hour?

Her annoyance for being disturbed turned into a gape when she opened the door and saw Eric standing there, looking disheveled and wild.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

Eric’s eyes skimmed down her body reminding Laura that she was nearly naked, was naked under the sheer material. But she didn’t care. Let him see what he couldn’t have. That would be payback enough.

“I needed to see you,” he managed.

“What for?”

“Please let me come in,” he said, his blue eyes pleading and desperate.

Relenting, she stepped back and he closed the door.

“Make it quick,” she said as she crossed the room to pick up her drink.

Eric enjoyed her retreat, as his eyes roamed over the curve of her back, the perfect curve of her buttocks, her long legs. He could feel his nerves grind and scream with desire. “Christ Laura, you’re beautiful.” His voice had thickened like a drunk’s.

He noted she deliberately stepped out of the muted light, into the shadows, effectively manipulating his responses. She leaned against the terrace door and faced him, almost purring with satisfaction. His eyes locked on hers and he sensed she knew what her half-naked presence was doing to him. Desire, hunger, and need rushed to the fore. The chaos of sensations ravaging him produced the faintest of smiles on her lips.

Witch.

“Why are you torturing me?”

Laura sipped her cognac. “I’m doing no such thing. You came to me remember.”

“Aren’t you?” he countered, his voice tight. “You’ve been playing me all day.”

“Playing?” she inclined her head, as if amused. But he could see by the daggers in her brown eyes he’d pressed the right button.

“Yes,” he managed, her exotic scent assaulting his senses. “And on purpose.”

“I don’t know why you came,” she said calmly, placing her drink on the table and heading to the door. “Your behavior was quite enough today and I won’t tolerate more of it. I want you to leave.”

Eric blocked her, leaned against the door and swung her around, pressing her against him. “I came here to apologize, but you know what? You don’t need an apology. What you need is a man. Do you feel that, Laura?”

Indeed she did feel his hardness pressed against her back. “Apologize?” she huffed. “I want more than an apology, you bastard,” she said, trapped was all she could think. His goddamn arms were like steel. “Do you think an apology is sufficient for the way you treated me today?”

“You’re the only one who gets under my skin. The only one, Laura,” he murmured in her ear. “I want you so much.”

“Well, I don’t want you,” she shot back, her tone bristling with anger.

“See, now you’re making me crazy.”

“Let me go,” she insisted, wriggling in his arms.

“Do you know that throughout our entire meeting, I thought of nothing else but tasting you, fucking you, being inside you?” he confessed, nibbling on her ear, inhaling her delicious scent.

“Don’t you have any shame?” she shot back, appalled.

With one quick jerk, he tightened his grip. “When it comes to you I have none.”

Without care, without hesitation, he parted the black robe and urgently cupped her breasts. The touch nearly made him lose control. She was like silk and satin under his hands, warm and soft.

“Eric, stop it,” she implored, as her breath caught, then expelled on a moan. “Stop this now,” she commanded weakly.

“Why Laura?” he whispered in her ear. “Why should I stop?”

She didn’t have a reason, couldn’t think of one. All she could do was feel her blood begin to stir as his thumbs grazed her nipples, as he nibbled on the vulnerable curve of her neck, as one hand travelled impatiently down her body to the soft mound of flesh between her legs, while the other manipulated a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She gasped.

She cursed, berated, as his hands continued to render her powerless, hating herself for every sigh, every gasp that she gave him.

Eric moved his fingers with such precision that her body had no choice but to respond and respond it did. He felt hot liquid pouring out of her. “You do want me, Laura. The body doesn’t lie.”

“Go to hell,” she hissed, twisting one way, then another so that her agitated movements only served to arouse them both.

“You’re coming with me,” he replied, and greedily palmed her sex. “I want to taste you,” he whispered in her ear. “Let me taste you.”

He spun her around and pinned her against the door. He could not bear it any longer. Months of pent up passion was unleashed. His kisses moved from her mouth down to her neck, her shoulders, to her breasts. Ravenous, he feasted on them, one, then the other, using teeth and tongue and lips so that he could make her feel the same ache she had stirred in him.

His mouth lingered down to her navel, to her abdomen, then paused. Looking up at her, the kaleidoscope of sensations across her face made his blood pound in his head. He slid his hand between her thighs and coaxed them apart. Pressing his face against her mound, he inhaled as if he could consume her whole. Her smell intoxicated him. And he was desperate for a taste. Deftly he lifted her right leg and placed it on his left shoulder and went in for the kill. He found her hot, wet and the flavor of her seeped into him until he was all but drunk with it.

Angry, aroused, Laura tried to push him away, to tell him to stop, to give her a moment to catch her breath and regain her sanity. But she was suffocating, infused with heat. Her breath caught in her lungs, emerging in quick gasps and moans. She murmured mindlessly, as her body shuddered with waves of need. And as logic and reason drained away, she could do nothing but experience and absorb. If words had been hers, she would’ve told him that he had won. He drained her, sucking the will out of her.