Sharp Curves Read online

  “I appreciate it. I believe the oldest piece is a painting from the sixteenth century.”

  “Yes, it is. It is worth two million dollars and will need the extra care that your gallery provides. It’s the reason I’m here,” I reiterate. It’s more for myself than her. I want her beyond anything else in the world, but I can’t kidnap her. So I need to win her love.

  I want Stella. I will have her. If I didn’t need to leave I would do my best to seduce her to be mine. “Please take me around the gallery, so I can assess the space.”

  “Sure, Mr. De Luca.”

  “Call me Domani, please.”

  “Mr. De Luca, this way.” She leads me, and like a puppy dog, I follow. Fuck, if I don’t find that sexy defiance cute as hell.

  “Amore, I’m not going to let you push me away. I don’t even care if you don’t want to do the exhibit. My family would like that, but as of this point, none of that matters. I want to see you again. I’m not going to be as they say beat around the bush. I want you. Not for one night like your defensive attitude suggests—but for much longer.” I’m not going to try and scare her away with my desire for eternity with her. Dio mio, the thought of leaving her is like a punch in the gut.

  “I don’t think that’s smart.”

  “No, it’s not for normal situations. This, on the other hand, is different. My family’s exhibit will only be here for a week. After that, nothing is going to stop us from seeing where this may lead.” I know where I want it to go. Until death do us part is the only place this will go. I lean in and lower my head. She tips her head up, and the shift in her eyes tells me she wants my kiss. I don’t kiss her just yet no matter how much it’s killing me. “I cannot wait to taste those lips. But as you say, it must wait,” I whisper against her ear.

  She pulls back as if I offended her and says, “Mr. De Luca, I…”

  “I’ll be back in two weeks. Don’t let anyone take my place.” I snake my arm around her waist and press my lips to her forehead. “Goodbye, Stella.” I leave before I lose my last bit of self-control. As I walk out of the gallery, I hit my cell phone and call in security to watch her.

  Chapter 4

  Stella

  I try to do my best and return to work, but I’m losing my mind. I call Fancy because she knows what I’m going through. Her boss is fine as hell and works her nerves. She doesn’t answer, so I send her an emergency text. Fancy, I need advice. Call me, biatch.

  She does about ten minutes later. “What’s up? You needing advice? Like on what?”

  “I met the owner of the special art collection. He’s fine as hell and essentially tried to claim me. He was rude, growly, and sexy as hell with his perfect suit and rich Italian accent. I mean the ‘drenched panties’ type of voice. The shit that makes women stupid.”

  “Get it together. Breathe.”

  “I’m trying. I played it cool until he almost kissed me.”

  “What happened?” she asks.

  I sigh then let it out, “Turned into a puddle of goo. I knew immediately that he didn’t buy my resistance. Damn bastard gave me a sexy smirk, demanding I wait for him to return for a kiss and much more.”

  “Girl, get it! Life’s too short waiting for a man to give it up to. You’ve got to lose it someday. Might as well be with a panty-melter.” I knew I was calling the wrong person. Every one of the girls would tell me the same thing. Hell, if I called my mother, she’d say the same thing, too. I’m the oldest of the crew, so I’m due to get freaky before it turns to dust.

  “You are no help,” I grumble into the phone

  “Yeah, I love you, too. Bye.”

  “Bye, freaking heifer.” I hang up and run my hand against my hair. I want to pull the tight band out and let my hair free, but I have some work to do before I go. I think I need a swim today to let go of this pent-up energy.

  I send a text to Avery, but that wench doesn’t answer either. I bombard her with multiple texts. She’s at work, but I need girl advice. An hour passes, and she finally calls me back.

  “What’s going on, chickie?!” she asks. Shit, I’m sure I have her freaking out.

  “Have you talked to Fancy?” Hoping I don’t have to relive my mortification.

  “Not yet. Why?”

  Fudge pops, I’m going to have to admit the truth. “I have a man issue.”

  “What? The guy from last night? The one who didn’t take no for an answer? Please tell me you didn’t,” Avery exclaims practically vomiting on the other end. We all thought he was a major creep, but I didn’t want to start shit at Lanie’s wedding.

  “Girl you know damn well I didn’t. It’s my new client. He’s sin on a stick or rather on a giant tree. He’s tall, muscular, and super sexy. He flirted with intent. I’ve avoided all the other asshats that come into my world, but this man is something else.”

  “I don’t know what to say. When do you see him again?”

  “I don’t know. We have the expo in about a month. That’s if he’s even going to be here.”

  “So he’s not around and may not be around for the expo, then why worry? You’ve got a crush, and maybe it’ll pass. I mean you didn’t let him bang your brains out, did you?”

  “No. he flirted then we went over the showing plans and security concerns.”

  “Well, then relax. You have a month before you have to freak out. He’s Italian, right?”

  “Yes,” I admit. I know where she’s going with this.

  “Then you know they are the eternal lovers. Sweet talk is normal, or at least it’s the gooey lies we’ve been fed.”

  “Yes, okay. I feel more confused than I was before. Girl, I’ll see you later. I’m definitely going to need another Wednesday night full of tacos and margaritas.”

  “Yay. Next week it’s on.”

  “Great. Love you, Ave.”

  “Back at you.” We end our call, but I still want Domani.

  I work for another hour, then lock up before heading back home to change. I receive a text from Domani. Bella, Andrea will be around tomorrow to enhance the security of the place. Do not flirt with Andrea.

  I want to send a “fuck off” back. Why would I flirt with some chick setting up security? I know it’s one of the things he asked for during our brief meeting, but damn, I didn’t think he’d jump on security when the event is over a month away.

  Instead, I send a text. I will be in at ten.

  ****

  The next morning I’m getting out of my car only to see this large man invade my space. “Ms. Sharp, I’m Andrea.” I arch my brow. Andrea’s a guy? Then I remember the famous singer Andrea Bocelli. I bet no one makes fun of his name. This man could bench press me. He’s bigger than Domani, and that’s a hard feat. What the hell do they feed them in Italy? Steroids for breakfast.

  “Do you have some identification?”

  “Here you go, signorina.” He hands me his passport, but I can’t shake the feeling that I have seen him before. I wonder if Domani sent him in to look over the gallery and see if we were up to par. I wouldn’t put it past him. Something about Domani gives me the feeling he’s very meticulous.

  “Come in. Where is the rest of the team to set it up?”

  “I am all that is needed,” he explains, moving past me into the main floor of the gallery. He opens his duffle while walking around the room examining the layout. I look him over. He could pass for a relative of Domani. I didn’t ask but instead, let him work. I don’t have time to deal with this right now. I have to prepare for another show I’m having on Wednesday.

  Chapter 5

  Domani

  Leaving Stella had been hard but smart. I have a job to do, and if I don’t do it right, I’ll never hear the end of it. This is important to my family after the latest disgrace of my uncle, the mayor of our town with a prostitute, damaging our distinguished name. I didn’t need the money like many in my family did, but my name and reputation have been above reproach, and now it’s been in question. My years of celibacy are being
challenged because of my uncle. For a family’s name, if one does something wrong, it reflects on the others. The prostitute was pregnant and claimed that she wasn’t sure who in the family the kid belonged to. It was a publicity stunt, but the damage was done. My aunt left him, then gossip started spreading around about my sisters sleeping with diplomats and execs. That shit couldn’t stand, so Demetrio and I had the rumors quashed or the one spreading it would end up in the sea.

  Winning Stella’s heart and hand are going to have to wait just a little longer. I arrive in Seattle on my private jet later than expected due to some storms. I’m missing time away from Stella for no reason. I left early, hoping to travel as soon as I finished my meeting with the owner of Baxter Gallery of Fine Arts, but it’s not going to happen. He doesn’t have time right now because he is in the middle of an art showing of a local artist. I stop at a hotel I booked just in case. I change to attend the event. It’s better to get a feel for his hosting abilities as well as his placement skills in action.

  When I arrive at the gallery entrance, I’m greeted by a woman who looks more like she holds up the round cards in fights. Her outfit isn’t what I would expect for a showing. The gallery isn’t as packed as it should be. I wonder if it’s the marketing, or the artist is unknown, but I have no problem moving about the room. The work is very modern and not anything I would ever purchase, but not everyone has a collection like my family’s. My tastes center around those masterpieces.

  I’m in there for about five minutes with two of my guards keeping these needy women eyeing me at bay when the host is informed of my arrival. He’s a tall, lanky man in his forties. His hair is overly slicked back. Just from his appearance, I’m getting a negative vibe. His image is on his website, but those must have been photoshopped. He looks younger and fuller online.

  He grins at me like a snake-oil salesman. “Hello, Mr. De Luca. Welcome to Baxter Gallery of Fine Arts. I’m sorry we couldn’t have met in private. As you can see it’s a busy night.” I can’t tell if he’s attempting to stroke his own ego or if he believes this is a large crowd.

  “Would you like some wine?”

  “No, thank you,” I answer, keeping my expression neutral.

  “Well, can I offer you one of the lovely ladies as arm candy?”

  “Are they part of the exhibit?” After looking at some of the nude images on the wall, their outfits explain the theme.

  “No, but all ladies love a man with money.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll pass. I don’t care for gold diggers.” He’s ruining every opportunity to work with me.

  “I received your requests, and I must say this is not doable on the timetable you’re asking for. There’s a lot of marketing to be done.”

  He’s made my decision for me, but I want to see what he knows about the rumors about my woman. If there are any, they aren’t spread out that well. “It’s nearly five weeks out. Mr. Baxter, I am looking to display the pieces after they are displayed at Sharp Curves Art Gallery in Clearwater, FL.”

  His face becomes lecherous, and I want to punch him in the mouth before he even responds. “Oh, Stella. She’s something else,” he remarks suggestively. I am holding my temper together. I do not expect her to be innocent, but to know that she would give herself to his degenerate infuriates me more than I can express. Something tells me that she wouldn’t mess with this fool, but you can never tell.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I challenge. The thought of him even looking at her riles me up.

  “You’re Italian. Aren’t you well versed in women? You’ve got to know what I mean. Or is Stella’s luscious curves a turn-off? I want to dig my hands into those thick thighs again,” he mutters. He has no idea how close he is to getting knocked out.

  “Mr. Baxter excuse me, but if you have a relationship with Ms. Sharp, I’m afraid that we can’t do business.”

  “Who hasn’t had her?” I have had it. I snarl and glare at him, catching the eye of one of my security team. I am doing my best not to tear him apart.

  I straighten myself, fixing my cuffs in an attempt to calm down. “Sir, I’m done. I’ll give Ms. Sharp another week with my family’s history on display. I do not care for a man to disrespect a woman. After meeting her, I do not believe a word you’re telling me.” I turn on my heel and walk toward the exit without another word. He chases after me, but I whip back around on him. “Do not even try to justify your rhetoric. It is a wonder how she is so successful with snakes like you running around ruining her good name.”

  “Maybe she just knows how to offer up a good proposition.” I lean forward my fist ready to land him on the ground when my security comes up and pulls me back. They whisper some sense into my ear. Gaining control of myself, I straighten my suit and remember I am a gentleman in a room of people and cameras. I will leave it to my man to handle at a later date. They drive me back to the hotel while I thank the stars that I wanted to meet him in person. I have to go back to Italy tomorrow even though I don’t want to go, but I have several meetings that need to be done and checking on my winery and vineyard.

  All I want to do is see and hold Stella. That would make everything better. Fuck, I have to make her mine very soon. Every bone in my body aches to be with her. Sleep doesn’t come easy for me because all I can think about is her with Baxter. It makes my blood boil.

  ****

  I wake up way before my alarm, anxious to prepare for my long flight back home when I get a message from Andrea that everything is up and running along with the login information for me. Before I head for the shower, I slip my shaking hand under my briefs and along my length, wishing it was her touching me. My eyes close and I picture her with her eyes looking up at me as her lips round out and her tongue peeking out between them. Groaning, I stoke faster, repeatedly fucking my cock until I scream out her name and come all over my stomach. I collapse onto the bed with my arms spread out, breathing hard. I can’t wait to make her mine and fill her with my seed.

  I fall back asleep for another hour before my alarm goes off. Damn, the shower is calling my name, but hell, I can’t keep my hand off my dick. I need to see my woman. As soon as I’m out and dressed, I log in to the feed, and there she is. Sitting at her desk, typing like a mad woman. Wow, she’s fast. My security calls to tell me it’s time to go. I get my things and check out.

  I sit back in the car as my driver takes me to the airport. I have a reason to call her, but I must make arrangements for other vendors. If anyone else spreads the lies about her, I may not be able to handle myself the next time. I will need a list of those who I can’t work with.

  I call her cell phone as we get on the plane. She doesn’t answer immediately, but then I hit on the security to see her working in the backroom. She has a small staff of movers when needed, but she manages everything with a tiny team.

  I want to have my phone available if she calls, I take out my tablet and log in to the system which logs me out of my phone as a safety precaution, one login per account. I see her dust off her hands on her thighs, tossing her hair to the side. She walks out of the backroom and to her office. I can’t see all the way inside, but she closes her door, giving me no access inside. I hate it, but that would be an actual violation of privacy. As I stare waiting for the door to open, my phone rings. It’s her. “Ciao, Stella.”

  “Hello, Dom…Mr. De Luca,” she stammers.

  I do not respond to the slip. If I want her to do business with me, I cannot act like these other bastards. Her outburst and refusal all have a past behind them. As much as I want to question her on it, I don’t have time today. “Cara, I need a favor.”

  “What can I help you with?” she says professionally.

  “My next exhibition in Seattle has been canceled.”

  “Do you need a gallery recommendation in that area?”

  “No. I wonder if we can do a second week showing at your gallery.”

  “When?” she asks.

  “For the week after?” I mutter.
/>   “I don’t know, Mr. De Luca. Let me look at the calendar. I have my month booked in advance.”

  “Let me know, Cara.”

  “Okay, Domani.” She hangs up on me, but I win because she called me by my name. I have one more trip to make before I must return to Italy. It strikes me that I may not see her before the event. I cannot leave my company permanently. Will she be willing to move to Italy? I do not know, but I will have to try to convince her. If I could run my company from here, I would. Plans are already underway in my hometown for her.

  She calls me back twenty minutes later. The weather has delayed our flight again which works in my favor. “Ciao cara. Can you do it?”

  “I can. My next client after the event is two weeks later. So that would give me a week between.” Her confidence is attractive to me.

  I must know more and more about her. “Stella. May I ask how you came to own your gallery?”

  She pauses, stammers, then continues, “Um. Well, it was a gift from the former owner.” I can hear her defensiveness. “Before you go there, I was his assistant for three years. He was retiring and had no one to leave it to. Unfortunately, he passed away last year.”

  Instant jealousy of the former owner’s relationship with her, I immediately wonder if he named it after her. “Was it always called Sharp Curves?”

  “No, it was called Clearwater Gallery, but he thought it should reflect a change in ownership. So—I came up with the name and its design,” she admits with a hint of embarrassment. She doesn’t have an ego which will help in the long run. I already have contacted my people in Italy. I have plans for a special place of her own. That is if I can convince her of our future and get her to live with me.

  “I’ve never heard of the original gallery. You must have made a name for yourself.”