She touched a little perfume to her pulse points, the final touch to her preparations, then sat back and stared at herself in the mirror. He’d told her he liked her hair down so she’d let it fall around her shoulders. She smiled, liking the look. Asia the tigress was back.
She chuckled to herself and got up. It was a minute to seven and she knew his car would pull up right on time. She picked up her purse and walked to the door just as a sleek black Lincoln town car pulled up to the curb.
Heart pounding in anticipation, she walked up to the car just as the chauffeur, the same one she’d met that first night, came around to hold the door open. She thanked him then peered in and was surprised to find it empty. She looked back at the chauffeur. “Where is Mr. Megalos?”
“Mr. Megalos had some final preparations to make,” he said mysteriously. “He asked that I take you to him as soon as possible.”
“Oh,” she said, still confused, but she slid into the seat and he closed the door.
Asia had other questions, like where exactly was Rico? And what preparations was he making? But she had a feeling the driver was instructed to keep the secret so she didn’t even waste her time asking. With a sigh she settled back into the seat to enjoy the ride.
It didn’t take long for Asia to realize that they were on the way to Fisher Island, the wealthiest neighborhood in Miami-Dade county, and also the wealthiest in the entire country. The ferry took the car across and into that exclusive community then they set off. She guessed that Rico was already at a restaurant, waiting for her.
But when the car turned through the gates of what could only be described as an island estate, she knew that this was no restaurant but Rico’s home. They drove up to a grand mansion of white and gold set in the middle of rolling green lawns and the ocean in the background.
As soon as the car pulled up in front, wide double doors opened and a uniformed butler came down the stairs to greet her.
“Welcome, Miss Miller," he said with a bow, his British accent crisp and polished.
Then he escorted her up the steps and into what looked like a grand ballroom. “I will take you to Mr. Megalos directly,” he said, and led the way down a wide marble-tiled hallway along which stood sculptures that looked like they were straight from the temple of Parthenon on top of the Acropolis.
At the end of the hallway the butler turned right and Asia found herself in an elegant dining room graced with a candle-lit table set for two. And there, looking for all the world like the hero on the cover of a romance
novel - tall, dark and extremely handsome - was Rico. Dressed in white shirt open at the collar and black pants, he could have been the gorgeous swash-buckling pirate that maidens loved to swoon over.
“Welcome to my home,” he said, and stepped forward to take Asia by the hand and pull her into the room.
“Rico, what a…surprise. I thought I’d be meeting you at a restaurant.”
“That was the original plan,” he admitted, "but at the last minute I changed my mind. I decided I wanted to make you dinner myself.”
“You?” She stared at him, incredulous. “Can you cook?”
He gave her a wounded look. “Is the lady questioning my abilities?” “No,” she said with a quick laugh. “Not at all. I look forward to enjoying a meal made by your hands.”
And enjoy it she did. Roasted chicken flavored with red wine, baby carrots steamed with tiny potatoes in a garlic sauce, and a vegetable pot-pie with a crust that melted in her mouth.
“You did all this?” she asked.
“Well, I did have some help,” he said with an almost guilty smile, “from my chef.”
“I knew it,” she teased.
“But, no,” he said, putting his hands up as if to profess his innocence, “I really did most of the work. He was just there to guide me from time to time.”
“Well, however you did it, I’m impressed. I really enjoyed it.”
After dinner they moved to a private sitting room where Rico left her for a moment. “Dry eyes,” he explained. “Need some eye drops.”
When he came back he was wearing glasses.
“So that’s what you look like in glasses,” she teased. “Mr. Four Eyes.”
“Who’re you calling Four Eyes,” he growled and reached for her then dragged her into his arms. “I should punish you for that.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she said, giving him a look of innocence.
“Shall I list your sins?” he asked, as he smiled down at her. “First you avoided me all week.”
“I did not,” she protested.
“You know you did,” he said, his voice adamant. “Every time I called, you were rushing off somewhere. I know that trick.”
She bit her lip, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I was avoiding you but only because I thought you needed some space, in case you had regrets…about us.”
“You crazy woman,” he chided. “What the heck are you talking about? I have none. Do you?”
She shook her head.
“And are you ready for sin number two?”
“I have a second sin?”
“Yes. You called me Four Eyes. Now come take your punishment like a man.”
She began to giggle at his lame joke but he put an end to that when his mouth swooped down and captured hers in a kiss that made her toes curl. When he finally released her she was gasping.
By this time Asia was a mass of tingling nerves. Every inch of her was aware of Rico - the feel of his lips against hers, the solid breadth of his chest as it crushed her br**sts, his masculine hardness as it pressed into her. She wanted more of him, so much more. But was she treading in dangerous waters?
She had to break the tension. Without warning she reached up and slipped Rico's glasses off his nose. Before he could react she pulled out of his arms and skipped away.
“Hey, why’d you do that?” He blinked then squinted, trying hard to see her. “Come back here, you little devil.”
“Never,” she chortled, and went to stoop beside an armchair in the corner. So she was being immature, acting like a bratty kid. So what? It was fun having the upper hand on Rico.