I thought that would make him uncomfortable, but he didn’t even blink. “Because I’ll remind you of him? Or because you want me to do it?”
“Both.” Who injected me with truth serum?
The acceleration in his breath and the way his eyes changed again with the flicker of lust I saw a few minutes ago lasted only a second, but I noticed.
“Except that your desire for me isn’t real,” he said.
“Mmhm. Not real,” I mumbled, my gaze zeroing in on his lips. “For argument sake, what if it was real? What would you do about it?”
His fingertips brushed my forehead, smoothing my hair off my face, a simple touch yet made of flames that zigzagged their way to my core. “I would…spank you harder until it stopped feeling good.”
“To punish me?” My whole body throbbed at the thought. Apparently, I was a sucker for it.
“To expel that silly feeling out of you for good.” He picked up a brush. “Close your eyes, Angelina.”
Seriously? “Are you really doing my makeup?”
“Si, si. Are you doubting my skills, young lady?”
Again with that enraging crap. “Are you trying to make me swear on purpose so you’ll have an excuse to spank me?”
“Who said I need an excuse?” He winked, and my ovaries exploded. “Close your eyes, Angelina. I’m going to start with them until you stop blushing.”
I giggled—only with him—and did as I was told, trusting him against all odds, praying he’d betray that trust and do something else entirely with me other than doing my makeup.
For the next twenty minutes, his strokes and breaths on my skin set me ablaze, and when he touched my lips, I could have simultaneously combusted. My breathing was out of control, and the sleeves of his suit jacket grazed my heaving boobs more than once. Thank God for the padded bra. The new panties, though, were no good. I needed a new pair.
When he stopped painting my face—that was how I imagined it. He wasn’t doing my makeup. He was painting, and my face was his canvas—his fingers massaged my scalp.
“You’re gonna do my hair, too?” I asked, no resistance left in me. I still had my eyes closed, and his fingers were doing wonders relaxing my muscles.
“Yes. It’ll look better up.”
“What if I like it down?”
“You’ll still wear it up.”
“Because you say so?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a possessive control freak, you know that?”
“Absolutely. Thank you for the precious insight.”
I snorted. “Do you think you have the right to control me because you’re paying for everything?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“I want what’s best for you, and you trust me to give you that.” His fingers left my hair and found my hand. He lifted it and printed a soft kiss on it. I trembled in response. “You can open your eyes now.”
Taking a deep breath, I looked in the mirror. I froze for a second or ten. The woman—definitely woman, not girl—looked like me, but I almost didn’t recognize myself. So elegant, so confident, like I was going to play at La Scala, like I belonged with the kind of people that dined at Leo’s every day, like I was fit to be Tino Bellomo’s date.
I rose and headed to the full length mirror. Then I checked myself back and front, feeling the exposition of the back of my neck that somehow gave me extra height and a better posture. “You were right. You are giving me the best.”
He grabbed the pumps and bent on one knee, asking me to extend my foot. In awe, I did as he asked. His big hand cradled my foot as he put the shoe on it, and I indulged in this Cinderella moment that might never happen again.
When he got to his feet, he took a step back, looking over my body. Then he asked me to twirl for him. Giggling, I did, checking the amazing flow of the dress for the millionth time.
“One more thing,” he said.
“It’s perfect the way it is, Tino. I’ve never looked better.”
He reached inside the pocket of his suit jacket and got out a big velvet box. “Put it on, but don’t get too excited. It’s a rental.”
Dazed, I stared at him. “You rented jewelry for me?”
He opened the box, and the bling of the diamonds and rubies in the bracelet and ring set bedazzled me. “Something to take away from your beauty. I want people to look at them instead of you.”
Why did he keep saying that? I was nothing to look at. A wallflower. The only attention I’d ever got was from sick stalkers. Well, maybe that justified his concerns. He was the one protecting me and didn’t need more creeps attracted to the psycho stalker magnet.
Impatient, he put them on my hand when I didn’t do it myself and cocked a brow at me.
“Thank you, Tino.”
“Atta girl.”
Chapter 27
Lina
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have a special guest for you tonight. Please welcome, our very own Bellomo prodigy, signorina Angelina Baldi,” Tino introduced me himself, looking absolutely dashing in his black suit, standing next to a slick piano under the spotlight. Everything about him shone with masculine formidability that took my breath away.
He stretched a hand in my direction. My heels clicked toward him, growing confident as I focused only on his eyes. Our hands met, my cold fingers absorbing his heat. Then he kissed the back of my hand, never failing to induce a shiver through me.
“In bocca al lupo,” he said.
“What?”
He smiled. “Break a leg.”
I laughed nervously as he eased away. The restaurant was fully packed, so many eyes on me. I thought I wouldn’t be nervous; I never suffered from stage fright. But I was. There were so many strangers and a sophisticated audience I’d never played for before. Inhaling, I reminded myself that I wasn’t Lina, the school girl, today. I was Tino Bellomo’s special guest, the entertainment at the most expensive venue in the city. I was dressed for the occasion, and if there was one thing I was confident about, it was my music.
Nicky was sitting in the center closest to the stage, and Tino joined her shortly. I concentrated on them, as if I was going to play only for them. “Good evening, I’m Angelina Baldi, your entertainment for the next thirty minutes. It’s an honor to be here tonight. If you have any special requests, please pass them to your server, and I’ll do my best to accommodate them all. Happy Valentine’s.”
People wished me a happy Valentine’s Day as well, lifting their glasses. Nicky cheered for me, and Tino gave me an approving nod.
I pressed my chin on the violin and started an international favorite. Beauty and the Beast.
To my beast with the sexy beard that was giving me the best. Tino Il Lupo. The wolf that wouldn’t lose his vice but remained my good luck charm.
People started to dance, and I was no longer nervous. I was happy. The happiest I’d been in a very long time. Nothing clouded the joy swirling inside me. What Tino had done this morning long forgotten. The anxiety of meeting Leo buried deep. Even the fear that he might show up tonight nonexistent. I wanted him to come. To see. To fuck up.
I wanted him over.
I wanted my freedom so I could live my life. The one Tino was showing me I deserved.