Seduced by the Hero Page 10

  “Yes, but I can’t accept it. It’s too expensive.”

  “You have to. Your name is inscribed on the back of it.”

  Frowning, he took the watch out of the box and turned it over. “To Immanuel, my hero.” A smile curled the corners of his lips. “Thank you, Dionne. I’ll wear it with pride.”

  Immanuel took her hand and tenderly kissed it, and her heart skipped and danced.

  * * *

  Three hours and seven courses later, Dionne and Immanuel left Bacchanalia. The impeccable service, creative food and exquisite wine pairings had exceeded her expectations. As they exited the private dining room Dionne thanked the staff for a wonderful evening. Everything was delicious, from the first bite to the last. It was, without a doubt, the best dining experience she’d ever had. And the best date, too. Charming and urbane, Immanuel regaled her with stories about his travels abroad, and after their third round of cocktails they were cracking jokes like longtime friends. Conversation flowed freely from one subject to the next, and no topic was off-limits. It was midnight, well past Dionne’s bedtime, but she was wide-awake, ready to talk for hours more.

  “Let’s go to Polaris,” Dionne suggested, exiting the restaurant on Immanuel’s arm. The wind whistled through the trees, the air held a crisp, refreshing scent and the sky was painted a dazzling shade of pink. “They make delicious iced coffee drinks, and the rooftop view of the Atlanta skyline is breathtaking.”

  “Can I take a rain check? I have an early-morning meeting tomorrow, and if I want to impress the executives at Sony Music I need to get my rest.”

  “Sony Music?” she repeated, arching a brow. “Are you auditioning for a boy band?”

  Immanuel pitched his head back and erupted in laughter.

  “I didn’t know you could sing. My, my, my, Mr. Morretti, you’re full of surprises.”

  Resting a hand on her back, he opened the back door and helped her inside the limousine. “Sony Music wants to hire a new security firm,” he explained, sitting down beside her. “They heard Mastermind Operations is the best in the business, and it is.”

  “I love your humility,” she teased, unable to resist poking fun at him. “It’s endearing.”

  “And I love your smile.”

  Thanks for giving me something to smile about. Immanuel was impossible not to like, and it was easy to see why his security firm was in high demand. He was everything a man should be—attentive, chivalrous and affectionate—and she enjoyed spending time with him.

  The traffic was light, the streets were quiet, and as the limousine cruised down Peachtree Road, Dionne reflected on their romantic marathon date. She couldn’t have asked for a better night, and wished their time together didn’t have to end.

  “Tonight was fun. We should do this again soon, but next time I’m paying for dinner.”

  “Don’t even start. Your tip was three times the cost of our meal.”

  Immanuel grinned, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, and Dionne knew she’d been had. That bothered her. Was he intimidated by her success? Is that why he’d left an exorbitant tip?

  Hearing his voice, she blinked and returned to the present.

  “Do you have plans tomorrow?” Immanuel asked.

  “Aren’t you going to Demetri’s game?”

  His eyes narrowed in confusion. “You’re going?”

  “Yes, Sharleen invited me,” she explained. “I don’t follow baseball, but since your cousin is a baseball legend, I agreed to go.”

  “So, you’re going to the game with Sharleen and Emilio?”

  “Is that a problem?” she asked, confused by his odd reaction.

  “No.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen my brother in years. It’s bound to be an awkward reunion, and I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “Immanuel, if Emilio approaches you at the game, be open and honest about your feelings. Try to bury the hatchet once and for all.”

  Nodding his head as if he was considering her advice, he stroked the length of his jaw.

  “I want you to come with me to the game.”

  “You do?” she blurted out.

  “Yes, of course. You’re great company, and I think we’ll have fun together.”

  So do I. You make me feel like a teenager again.

  “We can have dinner at one of the restaurants near Turner Field, then walk over to the stadium in time for the game. What do you say?”

  Dionne wanted to cheer, but contained her excitement. She was a mature, dignified woman, not a tween girl at a pop concert. “I’d love to.”

  “Great,” he said smoothly, wearing a boyish grin. “It’s a date.”

  I was hoping you’d say that, she thought, smiling. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

  The limo stopped in front of Dionne’s house, and Immanuel helped her get out of the car. Taking her hand, he led her up the walkway. His touch, his smile and the scent of his cologne put her in the mood for loving. Dionne couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. A year? Two? Jules used to complain she was cold and uptight in bed, but his insults never bothered her. He knew nothing about tenderness and intimacy, so who was he to judge? After learning about his affairs, she’d kicked him out of their bedroom and devoted all her time and energy to work. But tonight, Dionne didn’t want to edit the monthly newsletter or read client profiles. She wanted one man in her bed, and his name was Immanuel Morretti.

  Her heart was in turmoil; her body, too. She was hot and cold, nervous and excited, anxious and giddy, but the strongest emotion Dionne felt was desire. She longed to touch him, to caress him, wanted to taste his lips once and for all. Struggling to keep her hands at her sides and off his chest, she tore her gaze away from his mouth and took her keys out of her purse.

  Dionne unlooked the door, flipped on the lights in the darkened foyer and disabled the alarm. She turned around to find Immanuel watching her and sucked in a deep breath.

  His gaze was piercing, so intense and seductive that erotic images consumed her thoughts. She imagined them upstairs in her master bedroom, rolling around in bed, kissing each other desperately. But quickly changed the channel in her mind. They were buddies, not friends with benefits, and nothing good could ever come of having a fling with him. “I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee,” she said, dropping her keys on the end table. “Would you like one?”

  “No. I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow.” Immanuel leaned over, touched a hand to her face, and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for dinner. And, the watch.”

  Disappointed, Dionne watched him jog down the steps and duck inside the waiting limousine. She waved goodbye, and once the car drove off, she activated the alarm. With a heavy heart, she walked into the living room, collapsed onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling. She’d had a great time with Immanuel at Bacchanalia, and for as long as Dionne lived she’d never forget how special he made her feel. And how hot and bothered.

  Chapter 9

  “Let’s not argue,” Dionne said, raising her voice to be heard above the chatter in the conference room. It was Friday afternoon, and her staff—twelve life coaches, a receptionist and three bright-eyed interns—were seated around the table discussing mandatory employee training programs. They were snacking on fruit and the homemade pastries Sharleen had brought in, and drinking coffee as if there were no tomorrow. “We can revisit the issue in the future, but in the meantime everyone please register for the December training session.”

  Dionne glanced at Sharleen and laughed inwardly when her vice president tapped the face of her wristwatch and mouthed, “Move it along. We have plans tonight, remember?”

  “Are there any questions?” Dionne asked, glancing around the table.

  Annabelle raised her hand. “Are you okay?”

  Confused by
the question, she frowned and shot the blonde a quizzical look. “Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because you were brutally attacked a week ago—”

  Dionne cut her off. “What does that have to do with our monthly meeting?”

  “Some staff members were wondering if your attack has something to do with your ongoing feud with your estranged husband,” she explained, leaning forward in her chair. “A lot of people think Brad attacked you, but I don’t believe that for a second. Brad isn’t a criminal, and even though he was wrongly dismissed, I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to attack you...”

  Oh. No. She. Didn’t! Dionne wanted to reach across the table and smack the novice life coach for embarrassing her, but she caught herself in time and buried her hands in her lap. Anger burned inside her. Her personal life was just that—personal—and she didn’t appreciate Annabelle’s asking about the attack during the staff meeting. It was unprofessional and disrespectful, but Dionne didn’t lash out at her.

  Dionne took a sip of her chamomile tea. Over the rim of her mug, she noticed that everyone in the room was staring at her intently, passing judgment with their eyes. Since she didn’t want her employees to think she was upset, she put down her mug and spoke in a confident tone.

  “Annabelle, I’m fine,” she said, her voice masking her frustration. “I appreciate your concern, but the Atlanta Police Department is working hard on the case, and I’m confident they’ll make an arrest soon.”

  Interest sparked in her eyes. “So, the police have a suspect?”

  Dionne ignored her, consulting her two-page agenda instead. “Let’s discuss our clients.” Back in control, she straightened in her chair and picked up her pen. “I’d like everyone to give a brief update about the clients you’re supporting, and the challenges you’ve faced this week.”

  Silence plagued the room, and staff members shifted around in their chairs.

  “I’ll start.” Annabelle rose to her feet. Her expression was somber, but she spoke with pride. “I had a six o’clock session last night with Ryder Knoxx at his Druid Hills mansion, and he made another pass at me.”

  Dionne started to speak, then remembered the conversation she’d had with Immanuel at AT&T store last week and bit her tongue. His words played in her mind, and her anger abated. You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

  “Thanks for sharing, Annabelle. It can be challenging working with celebrities, and I appreciate your efforts, and your candor,” Dionne said, wearing a sympathetic smile. “Let’s meet tomorrow to discuss the situation further. I’d love to share some tips and strategies with you that have served me well for the last fifteen years.”

  Annabelle beamed. “Thank you, Mrs. Fontaine. I’d like that very much.”

  Within seconds, everyone was talking, openly sharing their concerns and frustrations. For the next forty-five minutes, Dionne shared advice with her staff. Problem-solving was mentally draining, but she welcomed the challenge. This was her calling, what she was born to do, and she wanted to empower her staff more than anything.

  “I want to thank you all for a job well done.” Dionne made eye contact with each staff member, trying to communicate her gratitude and appreciation through her gaze. This was her favorite part of the day, what she loved most about her job. She liked touching base with her team, and looked forward to connecting with them every Friday at the monthly meeting. “Because of your efforts, Pathways Center is the number one life coaching center in Atlanta, and it’s going to remain that way for many more years to come, right, everyone?”

  Applause, cheers and whistles filled the room.

  “Staff, that will be all for today.” Closing her notebook, Sharleen gestured to the papers on the middle of the table. “Please remember to submit your holiday requests to the HR department by Friday if you’d like time off during Thanksgiving. It’s only a few weeks away, so time is of the essence.”

  Everyone filed out of the room, and Sharleen locked the door.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my boss?”

  Dionne laughed out loud. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “I was about to ask you the same question. I thought you were going to strangle Annabelle when she asked you about the attack, but you handled it like a pro. And you were surprisingly sympathetic when she shared her concerns about Ryder Knoxx.”

  “I’ve turned over a new leaf—”

  “I’d say,” she snapped, nodding her head emphatically. “The old Dionne would have given her a thorough tongue-lashing, then tossed her out the door!”

  Laughing, Dionne leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Since the attack, she’d changed for the better. She was more patient, less uptight, and Immanuel was the reason why. He never raised his voice, treated everyone with respect and went out of his way to help others. He was a kind, gentle soul, the type of person she aspired to be. She was glad they had met. Not only was he a great friend, he was someone she could count on.

  “I know I can be hard on people, especially our female staff, so I’m making a concerted effort to be more understanding,” she confessed, speaking from the heart. “To make Pathways Center a success I need the support of the entire team, and since you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar, I’m killing them with kindness.”

  “I’ve been saying that for years,” Sharleen said, fervently nodding her head. “I’m glad you’re finally taking my advice. It’s about time.”

  Hearing her cell phone vibrate, Dionne picked it up off the table and read her newest text message. It was from Immanuel, and as she read his message, heat flooded her body.

  I can’t wait to see you. You’ve been on my mind all day.

  Her heart fluttered inside her chest. Immanuel made her feel special, as if his sole purpose in life were to please her. Since their candlelit dinner at Bacchanalia he’d been doing just that. On Sunday, he took her to see Motown: The Musical at the Atlanta Theater, then days later they had lunch at her favorite sushi spot, and last night he’d treated her to dessert at Sugar Shack, a quaint Brookhaven shop just minutes away from her house. They’d sat at their corner table talking about movies, music and past relationships for hours. By the time they left the café, she was dying to kiss him. At her doorstep, he’d given her a hug and a peck on the cheek, but she’d secretly longed for more. She wanted to kiss him, and yearned to feel his hands all over her body. Friendship be damned. Everything about Immanuel was a turn-on—his piercing eyes, his panty-wetting smile, the way he moved—and it was getting harder and harder for Dionne to fight the desires of her flesh.

  “Why are you smiling from ear to ear?” Sharleen asked, wearing an amused expression on her face. “Did you finally sign a celebrity for our new marketing campaign?”

  “No, not yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “Do you want me to ask Emilio to do the ad?”

  Dionne couldn’t resist poking fun at her friend and hid a cheeky smile. “No, don’t, it’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”

  “Says who? Mixing business with pleasure worked for me, and I have the engagement ring to prove it!” Sharleen laughed. “We better get going. Emilio should be here any minute to pick us up for Demetri’s game, and I don’t want to make my baby wait.”

  “You guys go on without me. I’ll just meet you at Turner Field.”

  “But we agreed to go together, and you won’t be granted access to Demetri’s luxury box without us,” she explained.

  “I know, but Immanuel invited me to the game and I said yes.”

  “Immanuel!” She dropped into her chair, wheeled over to where Dionne was sitting at the head of the table and gripped her shoulders. Her face was bright, her eyes were wild with excitement, and her voice was a deafening shriek. “You guys are dating? No way! OMG, if you guys get married we’ll be sisters-in
-law! How cool is that!”

  “Girl, slow your roll. It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

  “Yeah, for now, but it’s just a matter of time before Immanuel sweeps you off your feet.”

  Sadness pierced her heart, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. “I hope not, because the last time I fell in love I was played for a fool.”

  “This time will be different.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you,” she insisted, her tone firm and convincing. “You’re smarter and wiser now, and besides, Immanuel’s a Morretti, and Morretti men don’t mistreat women.”

  Dionne smirked. “What, so you’re the family spokesperson now?”

  “Nope. I’m just a hopeless romantic who’s a sucker for happy endings.”

  “Then forget about my love life, and focus on reuniting Emilio with his brother.”

  Her smile dimmed. “There’s nothing I can do. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

  “Has Emilio tried reaching out to Immanuel?”

  “Only a million times. He calls and texts him, but to no avail. Immanuel has completely shut him out of his life. No matter what Emilio does, it’s never good enough.”

  “I know the feeling.” Dionne released a deep sigh. “You heard my sisters. They think I’m to blame for Jules’s infidelity and ordered me to call off the divorce and return home.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have older siblings, because I hate when people tell me what to do,” Sharleen said. “What do your parents think? Do they want you to reconcile with Jules?”

  “Yes, unfortunately they do. I went home on Saturday, and my dad had some very harsh words for me. He stopped short of calling me irresponsible, but his comments still hurt.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but try not to let it get you down.” Sharleen winked and gave her a one-armed hug. “I think you’re fabulous, and I bet Immanuel does, too.”

  Laughing, the women exited the conference room. They parted ways in the reception area, and after Dionne spoke to the receptionist she grabbed the day’s mail and marched out the front door. It was early evening, but the sun was shining and the air was warm.