High Stakes Seduction - Book 1 Read Free Page B

servant!"
    She was right, of course. But I had to get to the bottom of this. We needed the money—if he was such a big shot businessman, then it wouldn't hurt him financially to let go of the insurance policy.
    My job at the restaurant barely paid the bills. Maria's settlement for the accident had somehow evaporated into our father's gambling debts, and we were tapping into the Uncle Benito Fund far more than either one of us wanted to. So, anything I could do to get this Mancini character to talk about a potential solution sounded like a good idea. Or so I rationalized.

Chapter Seven
     
    I've never been really good at blindly obeying demands, and I wasn't about to start when the stakes were so high.
    I glanced at my watch. It was thirteen minutes after nine. Call it childish defiance, but it was all I had at this point.
    Antonio Mancini stood in front of a large, floor-to-ceiling window with his back to me, speaking quietly into his cellphone. Even standing behind him, I felt the strength of presence this man had. His impeccable suit and highly polished shoes fit with the photos I'd seen. But there was something more. Maybe it was the sheer breadth of his shoulders, the easy grace of his stance. Or the slight tilt to his head as he spoke into the phone.
    His secretary nodded towards a white leather couch in the corner of the huge office. I smiled and thanked her as she closed the door, leaving me inside with the formidable Antonio Mancini.
    But, I didn’t go over to the couch she'd indicated. Instead, I stood at the door, trying to keep my calm in the presence of this man who was clearly used to being in charge. I distracted myself by looking around the office.
    It was elegantly decorated in blacks, whites, and grays, with deliberate splashes of mauve, worked in to various pieces of furniture and artwork, including a single flower in a vase on his desk. The décor was subtly tasteful and I found myself wondering what his home must look like.
    The ride up the elevator had been almost as nerve-wracking as standing in this office. I'd peeked through the store windows as I passed into the building lobby, and been suitably impressed. It's not a store I'd ever had the funds to visit.
    Scanning the offices looking for the Mancini name, I'd been further impressed by the other occupants: architects, several accounting firms, even a private investigator. And there, on the top floors, Mancini Enterprises.
    "Thank you for coming to my office, Miss Tilson." The smooth, husky voice broke me out of my musings.
    I silently cursed myself for letting my mind wander and opened my mouth to speak, only to find my throat dry. Clearly, his pictures did not do him justice.
    He was—I hated to use the cliché, but my mind was not thinking very clearly at the moment—tall, dark, and extraordinarily handsome, with the same cool, dark, piercing eyes I had seen in the photographs. I couldn’t quite read his expression and suddenly felt stupid for playing games.
    "I—I’m sorry I’m late," I said, taking his proffered hand and noticing the subtle shift of energy that ran up my arm at his touch.
    He shook my hand firmly, but his thumb lingered, caressing my hand as it slid away to rest at his side. Just his touch made my knees weak.
    "Please sit down," he said, turning and extending a hand to indicate the chairs opposite his desk.
    I stepped over to the chairs and sat down, grateful not to have made a scene. He paused for a moment, then seated himself behind his desk.
    "Look, Mr. Mancini," I began, leaning forward, and then the words just came tumbling out. "My sister and I have been dealing with my father’s debts ever since… since the accident when my… my mother died. When he disappeared a year ago, we heard nothing from him, until last week when I got a call telling me he was dead. And then, when I pick up his meager belongings, I find your name on an insurance policy? What is going on, Mr. Mancini?"
    He watched me for a long, quiet