Seduced By The Bachelor

Still, he was intrigued and couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Excuse me.” Standing, Tatiyana stepped past him, heading up the aisle as if it were her own personal runway. Her scent overpowered his senses, sending his thoughts into overdrive. Leaning to the right, he admired her captivating strut, curious if she had a boyfriend.

His eyes flickered over her curves, cruising down her hips with deliberate intent. She strode toward the lavatory, giving him a terrific view of her from behind, tempting him to break the rules. Sweat clung to his skin, drenching the back of his short-sleeve shirt. Long after Tatiyana disappeared into the bathroom, he was thinking about her—her smoky eyes, her toned, slender shape, her mesmerizing walk, how her aura and physical beauty drew him in.

“Sir, are you finished with your lunch? I hope everything was to your liking...”

Markos straightened and regarded the flight attendant, hoping she didn’t see him ogling Tatiyana’s backside. “Yes, thanks, everything was great.”

To get his mind off Tatiyana, Markos stared out the window. The sky was clear, powder blue, and instantly calmed his mind. Hanging out with the guys was the perfect antidote for his stress. These days, all Markos did was work, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cut loose. He had an active social life, but none of the women he was dating excited him. He kept females at a distance, hadn’t gotten close to anyone since Emme left, and didn’t plan to. Thoughts of his ex-girlfriend flooded his mind, and Markos wondered if the pain in his heart would ever subside.

Someone whistled, drawing Markos’s gaze to the front of the plane. Tatiyana was back, a sight to behold with that radiant, effervescent smile. A child raced up the aisle, slamming into Tatiyana, and she rocked back onto her heels. She dropped her purse, and its contents spilled onto the floor, flying everywhere.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Markos bent and picked up the items at his feet, handing them to her. Their fingers touched, brushing ever so lightly against each other. Tatiyana thanked him, but he could see the contempt on her face and knew she had her guard up. Her eyes bored into him, leaving him feeling vulnerable, exposed, as if she could see into his soul.

After he helped her pick up her stuff, she sat down, picked up the book on her seat and flipped it open.

“Italy for Dummies?” he said, unable to hide his amusement. “Are you planning a trip to Italy in the near future?”

To his surprise, she didn’t acknowledge him or respond to his question.

“I’m Markos Morretti.”

Tatiyana stared at his outstretched hand, as if it was covered in germs, and raised her book in the air. “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Morretti, but as you can see I’m very busy.”

“I deserve that. I was rude earlier, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” she replied, vigorously nodding. “You were.”

“I’m sorry. I’m working on an important disposition, and sometimes when I get caught up in a case I lose sight of everything else.”

“Then why are you wasting your time talking to me?”

“Spending time with a vivacious woman is never a waste of time,” he said smoothly. “And I’m curious to hear about your trip to Italy.”

“Why? Do you moonlight as a travel guide when you’re not in court?”

“I do for beauties with freckles.”

He smiled when Tatiyana laughed.

Her bracelets clanged as she swept a hand through her hair. The words Sister’s Keeper were tattooed on the inside of her wrist in small, fine script, and Markos was curious about the intricate design. “That’s an interesting tattoo. Are you a twin?”

“No.” The light in her eyes dimmed. “My sister’s five years younger than me, but I’ve always taken care of her and I always will. She’s my heart.”

“I feel the same way about my siblings. I’d do anything for them,” he said, meaning every word. “Are you from LA, or just passing through?”

“I was in town visiting relatives,” she explained. “I’m originally from Bridgeport.”

Markos saw a message pop up on his iPad, guessed it was one of his clients, but ignored it. He wanted to know more about Tatiyana, not read emails. “Have you been to Tampa before? Or is this your first time?”

“No, never, but Dalton loves the city, so I’m in good hands.”

“Dalton? Is that your husband?”

“No, my best friend. We met in college, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Suspicious, Markos probed further. “And you’re sure he’s not your man?”

“I’m positive,” she said, giving him a puzzled look. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re stunning, and I bet men chase you down for your number 24/7.”

“You’re quite the charmer, Markos. Doesn’t Mrs. Morretti mind you flirting with other women? I would if you were my man.”

If you were my wife, I wouldn’t need anyone else. He dismissed the outrageous thought with a shake of his head and answered her question. “I’m not married. Law is my first and only love, and that will never change.”

“Spoken like a true attorney,” she teased.

“Are you a model?”

“No, I’m an executive secretary at Pinnacle Microsystems.”

Impressed, he nodded. “Great company. I have several friends at Pinnacle. Do you know anyone in the marketing department?”

“No, it’s a huge company, and I like to keep to myself. I’m super busy with school right now, so I don’t have time to socialize with my colleagues outside of work.”

“What are you studying?”

“I’d love to work in the non-profit field as a program director or manager, so I decided to get my business degree,” she explained. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Are you traveling to Tampa for work or pleasure?”

“Hopefully, both. Are you free tonight?”

“No. We’re going to the R&B Summer Jam at Applause Nightclub, but you’re more than welcome to join us. Divas are performing, and I can’t wait to see them perform live!”

“Who?”

A puzzled expression wrinkled her features. “The female rap group?”

“Sorry. Never heard of them.”

“Are you kidding me? Were you living under a rock in the nineties?”

“No, in Italy,” he explained, warding off bitter memories. “My parents separated, and my brothers and I went to live with my grandparents until the divorce was finalized.”

“That must have been a very difficult for you. I grew up without a father, so unfortunately I know what it’s like to experience hard times. It’s tough.” Her expression was sympathetic. “But don’t worry. I’ll buy you their greatest hits album for Christmas!”

Markos laughed out loud. He liked her. What wasn’t to like? A ball of energy, she was able to capture his attention despite everything he had on his mind. As expected, Tatiyana was far more interesting than his paperwork. She regaled him with stories about her childhood, her love of pop culture and her small, close-knit family.

“Where are you staying this weekend?” he asked. “With your friend, or at a hotel?”

“Dalton lives in Orlando, so we’re staying at the Oasis Spa and Resort. It’s the Rashawn Bishop Charity Golf tournament, and I’m going to win it all. Just watch me.”

Markos admired her confidence. Tatiyana was as witty as she was beautiful, and he had to see her again. “Small world. I’m staying at the same resort, and I’m also attending the tournament.”

“Then we’ll be seeing each other a lot this weekend. Should be fun.”

“Let’s exchange numbers. Maybe we can have a drink one night.”

“I’d like that. You seem like a cool guy, and I have a feeling Dalton’s sister is going to love you. She loves Italian men, especially handsome ones.”

Markos groaned, hanging his head as if overcome with despair. And he was. Sick of people hooking him up. He wished they’d quit sending needy, marriage-crazed females his way, and leave him alone. “I have the worst luck. I can’t go anywhere without someone trying to set me up.”

“Trust me, I’m an expert at reading people, and Genevieve is exactly your type.”

Amused, a grin tugged at his lips. “What’s my type?”

“Smart, independent and successful, right?”

“You certainly fit the bill.”

“I’m looking for Mr. Right—”

“Look no further. I’m right here.”

Tatiyana scoffed, with a loud, sarcastic laugh. “That’s what they all say until someone younger and prettier with bigger boobs comes along.”

“I’m not a player. Never have been. I’m an honest, upstanding guy who enjoys long walks in the park, shopping on Rodeo Drive, dining at five-star restaurants and Jill Scott.”

“Good God,” she said, her tone filled with awe. “You are my dream guy!”

Her girly, high-pitched giggles filled the air. Markos sensed her interest in him and knew he was saying and doing all the right things to impress her. He’d score her cell phone number by the time they landed in Tampa, and a date, no doubt about it.

They talked nonstop during the in-flight movie, laughing and cracking jokes. They had a lot in common, but what shocked Markos most were her insightful comments about the business world, her knowledge of Wall Street and politics.

“To be honest, I don’t put much faith in politicians,” Tatiyana confessed. “They’ll say and do anything to get elected, but once they’re in office, they forget about the promises they made to their loyal constituents. We need leaders who’ll stand with the American people, and unite the country, not divide it.”

“That’s a tall order, don’t you think?”

“No. If the government invests in education and health care, and provides better training to police departments, I think things would drastically improve. Especially for lower-income families and impoverished communities.”

“Well said, Tatiyana. I wholeheartedly agree.” Markos raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re an executive secretary? If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a community activist.”

Tatiyana smiled, and Markos did, too.

“It’s hard to believe we just met. I feel like we’ve known each other forever. It’s so easy to talk to you.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he confessed, echoing her thoughts.

“It feels like we’re old friends catching up at our high-school reunion.”

“That’s because you’re an exceptional conversationalist. You’re articulate, well-read, and you have an opinion about everything.”

Tatiyana frowned, arching an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying I talk a lot?”

“No, that’s my way of saying I’d like to see you again.”

The flight attendant appeared. “Can I interest either of you in a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”

“Absolutely.” Tatiyana helped herself to a flute from the flight attendant’s tray, two bowls of nuts and a warm hand towel. “Thanks, Miss, I’ll buzz you if I need something else.”

“And you, Mr. Morretti?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s too early in the day to be drinking.”

“Get one,” Tatiyana urged. “You only live once, right?”

“It does smell good,” he conceded, licking his lips, his mouth wet with anticipation.

“It tastes even better...”

Markos swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her, and wondered if her lips tasted as good as they looked.

“It’s not going to kill you to have one drink,” she said, popping a cashew into her mouth. “Everything in moderation. That’s my personal philosophy, and it governs everything I do.”

“Good point.” Markos grabbed a flute off the tray and raised it in the air. “To Tampa.”

They clinked wineglasses. Time stopped, and everything around them ceased to exist. They stared at each other, as if they were long-lost lovers reuniting after years apart, and instinctively Markos took her hand in his. She was a vibrant, young woman with a wicked sense of humor and a terrific pair of legs—and Markos couldn’t wait to feel them around his waist. And he would, once they arrived at the Oasis Spa and Resort.

Chapter 3

Oasis Spa and Resort, a luxurious hotel known for its world-class amenities and picturesque views, was located in a sprawling, gated community thirty minutes from downtown Tampa. Strolling from his executive suite to Prime Steak House Markos took in his surroundings, noting the vibrant flowers and towering palm trees shielding the grounds. The resort had it all—an 18-hole championship golf course, swimming pools, tennis courts, acclaimed restaurants known for their delicious menus and a renowned spa. Popular among A-listers with time on their hands, and money to burn, the resort was filled with sports legends, actresses, reality stars and social media darlings snapping selfies at every turn.

Prime Steak House was packed, filled with laughter, conversation and casually dressed diners. The moment Markos stepped into the restaurant, he spotted the Morretti clan seated in a secluded corner, away from the other patrons. His body tensed, and the smile slid off his face. His cousins, Demetri, Nicco and Rafael, and his brothers, Emilio and Immanuel, weren’t alone; they’d traveled to Tampa with their wives. It was obvious the couples were madly in love; they were whispering, cuddling, even feeding each other.

He cocked an eyebrow. Markos was shocked by his brothers’ behavior, was blown away by their public displays of affection. They looked proud, too, as if they had the perfect lives, but Markos knew better than anyone how fast things could change. One minute it was candlelight dinners and weekend getaways, and the next it was screaming matches, separate bedrooms and divorce court. For their sakes, he hoped it wasn’t the latter, but Markos didn’t put much faith in relationships. They didn’t last, and he had the broken heart to prove it.

Absent from the group were his youngest brothers, Enrique and Romeo. Based in Italy, they both worked nonstop, preferring to make money than spend it. Days earlier, he’d called Enrique to find out his travel information, but his brother said he was too busy with his media company, Icon Productions, to attend the charity golf tournament. He’d tried to persuade him, but there was nothing Markos could say to change his mind. Romeo had given him the same spiel yesterday. A brilliant investment banker, with foresight and ingenuity, he owned everything from real-estate properties to upscale restaurants, spas and fitness centers. In spite of his recent health scare, Romeo was still the hardest working person in his family. At thirty-one, he’d accomplished incredible success in his career, and Markos was proud of him.

Cheers and laughter filled the air. He heard his sister-in-law Sharleen giggle, and watched as Emilio kissed her passionately on the lips. So much for our guys-only trip, he thought, contemplating whether or not to return to his suite. He had a meeting with a Hollywood actor on Tuesday morning, and Markos didn’t want to be ill-prepared. The Oscar winner wasn’t just another client; he was also a friend, and Markos didn’t want to let him down. Being a partner at LA Family Law was an honor, a goal he’d had since he started at the firm ten years earlier, but it wasn’t enough. Markos had political aspirations, dreamed of being the next mayor of LA, and hoped to make it a reality during the next election.

His stomach groaned. The décor in the steakhouse was simple, nothing to write home about, but according to his siblings, the food was outstanding. Markos was starving, hadn’t eaten anything since arriving at the resort two hours earlier, but he’d rather eat alone in his suite than watch his brothers and cousins fawn all over their wives. He didn’t want to be the third wheel, and feared he’d die of boredom sitting with the love-struck group playing kissy face—

Ducking out of the restaurant, before his family could see him, he strode down the walkway, noting the pop star seated on the patio signing autographs.

Hearing a voice full of warmth and life, Markos glanced over his shoulder, searching for the owner with the exuberant laugh. His gaze fell across the woman in the bold, colorful outfit, and his feet stopped. Tatiyana. She looked hot, good enough to eat, and Markos was starving. Hungry for her lips, desperate to taste every inch of her body. He liked everything about her appearance—the sleek ponytail, her crimson lips, her flirtatious, come-hither smile, how her dress skimmed her thighs—and couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

An idea came to him, the answer to his problem. He’d ask Tatiyana to be his dinner date. The executive secretary had “It,” the wow factor, and arriving at the steak house with the leggy beauty on his arm was sure to not only turn heads, but also impress his family.

Markos tried to catch her eye, but Tatiyana was too busy chatting to notice him. Holding center court, surrounded by men in golf attire, it was obvious she was in her element. Which guy was her traveling buddy? Were they really just friends and nothing more?

In a stroke of good luck, Tatiyana waved at her admirers and sashayed off, switching her hips, her ponytail swishing back and forth. As she stepped past him, Markos reached out and caught her arm. Surprise, then anger darkened her features. Tatiyana gave him a blank stare, as if he was a stranger, and Markos released her hand. Four hours ago she was talking his ear off, and now she didn’t know him? What gives? Markos didn’t know what game Tatiyana was playing, but he didn’t like it. Still, he didn’t leave. He wanted the pleasure of her company tonight, and he wasn’t returning to the restaurant without her. Markos wore a disarming smile, but Tatiyana seemed immune to his charms, regarding him with a narrowed gaze. “We meet again.”

Tatiyana fluttered her eyelashes, her expression coy. “Markos, right?”

“It’s wonderful to see you again. Great dress.”

“Thanks,” she said, doing a twirl.

“Where are you rushing off to?”

“To see you, of course.”

Her innocent, wide-eyed expression made Markos laugh. She smelled of roses and tropical fruit, and her sweet, heady fragrance tickled his nostrils. The blood drained from his head, shot to his groin, and his erection stabbed the zipper of his white slacks. Sex was his favorite pastime, the only activity ever worth skipping dinner for, and Markos craved Tatiyana, had to have her. She oozed sexuality, reeked of confidence, and Markos suspected she’d be a passionate lover.

“What are you up to tonight?” she asked, cocking her head to the right.

“I’m about to have dinner with my family. Care to join me?”

“Only if you agree to be my date for the R&B Summer Jam. My friends canceled on me at the last minute, so I’m on my own this weekend, and I don’t want to go to Applause Nightclub alone.”

“I have paperwork to do, and besides I’m too old for rap concerts.”

Her eyes dimmed, but she spoke in a cheery tone. “No worries. I’ll find someone else to take me. Have fun with your family, Markos.”

Tatiyana stepped past him, and Markos captured her forearm, drawing her to his side. “Deal,” he said. “Have dinner with me, and I’ll take you to the concert tonight.”

“I thought you’d come around.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Washington.”

All smiles, her eyes beguiling and bright, she coiled an arm through his. “Sono contento che ci siamo incontrati, e sarei onorato di avere la cena con la famiglia.”

I’m glad we met, and I’d be honored to have dinner with your family. Pleased by her words, he stared into her eyes, gauging whether or not she was telling the truth. Enraptured by the sound of her voice, he moved closer to her, brushing his lips against the curve of her ear. “You speak Italian. I’m impressed. What other secrets are you hiding?”

“There are a lot of things I can do. I’m a woman of extraordinaire talents—”

“I look forward to discovering them all.”

“Patience,” she replied with a wink. “Dinner first, then dessert.”

* * *

“How long have you two been dating?”

Markos choked on the cocktail shrimp in his mouth. It hurt to breathe, and a burning sensation flowed through his chest. Glancing up from his plate, he shot Emilio a questioning look, hoping his expression conveyed his annoyance. Arriving at the table ten minutes earlier, he’d introduced Tatiyana to his family as a “friend” and jokingly asked them not to scare her off, so why were Emilio and Immanuel giving her the third degree? Why couldn’t they be kind and welcoming like his cousins and their wives? Before Markos could respond, Tatiyana spoke up, shocking him and everyone else at their corner table.

“Not long, but the first time I saw Markos I knew he was the one...”

Tatiyana covered his hands with her own, sending heat surging through his body.

“I love sensitive, romantic men, and your brother’s quite the charmer. And hot, too, right ladies?”

The women cheered, the men chuckled and Markos smiled so wide his jaw ached. He couldn’t have asked for a better dinner companion. None of the women he knew could hold a candle to Tatiyana, and he was glad to have her at his side.

“Where’s Dante?” Rafael asked, popping an oyster into his mouth. “I spoke to him on Sunday, and he said you guys were traveling together, so I expected to see him tonight.”

Finishing his appetizer, Markos took a swig of his soda and set aside his empty plate. “He changed his mind. Jordana’s parents are in town, and he wants to spend time with them.”

“I’m confused. I thought Dante was single.” Sharleen Nicholas, Emilio’s wife, wore a puzzled expression on her face. “Who’s Jordana?”

“His temporary wife,” Emilio explained. “He married her in a courthouse ceremony back in June, in the hopes of winning full custody of Matteo, and it worked.”

Markos shook his head. “Jordana’s not his temporary wife. She’s his soul mate.”

A hush fell over the table as Markos spoke. He assured his family members the aspiring actress was a thoughtful, compassionate woman, not a gold digger with dollar signs in her eyes. “I had dinner with them last week, and it’s obvious they’re in love. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, finished each other’s sentences and Jordana laughed at all of Dante’s jokes, even the corny ones.” Markos chuckled, recalling how much fun he’d had with the couple. “Dante quit his job at the Brokerage Group so he could be a better father and husband, and I think that’s commendable.”

Nicco whistled. “You’re right. It is.”

“I’m happy for him,” Immanuel said, reaching for his water glass. “He’s been interested in Jordana for months, and Matteo adores her, too.”

Markos agreed. “You’re right, he does, and Matteo’s not the only one. Lourdes likes her a lot, and credits Jordana with helping her finally get clean. If Jordana gets her way, and I’m confident she will, they’ll be one, big, happy family in no time.”

“That’s great,” Rafael replied. “I’ll call Dante later to congratulate him.”

The waitstaff arrived, carrying silver trays topped with entrées, drinks and cocktails. Over dinner, they discussed the charity golf tournament that had brought them to town, and the celebrities the women were excited to meet. He wasn’t interested in the conversation; he was interested in Tatiyana. She fit in well with his family, and every time she cracked up, he did, too.

“I can’t believe I’m having dinner with a baseball star, a celebrated news anchor, a race car legend and the owner of my favorite Italian restaurant. What a treat! Someone pinch me!”

Everyone laughed, and Markos knew inviting her to dinner had been a wise move.

“Tatiyana, what do you do for a living?” Jariah Morretti, Nicco’s wife, dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “You must be in the entertainment industry because you’re a firecracker.”

“I wish! I’m not a star, but I love reality TV.”

“Me, too!” Sharleen eagerly nodded. “Did you see the season finale of Dating in the City last night? I almost died when Nelson Hamilton dumped Penelope at her sister’s wedding. Twenty-four hours later, and I’m still pissed...”

The men groaned, objecting loudly to the topic, but Paris silenced them with a menacing look. “Don’t make fun. Dating’s changed drastically in the last ten years, and if not for smart, thought-provoking reality shows like, The Love Test, and Relationships 101, my friends and I would still be in the dark about men.”