Chapter Seven
Bianca
My stomach twisted in nervous knots as we rode the elevator up to the forty-second floor. Everything about this hotel was luxury and opulence. “This hotel must cost a fortune,” I muttered to myself as I watched the number above the door climb.
“Eight hundred a night,” Lorenzo answered.
“And why do we need to stay three nights again? We could have just taken a day trip down here, gotten married, and driven back.” I bit my lip. Three nights in a hotel room with Lorenzo Vitale. I wasn’t sure my heart, let alone my ovaries, could stand it without combusting.
“We have the license. I have someone ready to marry us in the morning, and we will spend time down here to give the illusion that the marriage has been consummated.”
I could feel my face flame at the word consummated. Sex with Lorenzo. It took everything in me not to fan my face at the mere thought of sleeping with this man. I’d fantasized about him on more than one occasion. Since I didn’t have a life outside of my dance, I read a lot of romance novels.
It didn’t matter how the author described the hero in the book.
My mind would always flip the image of the male character to Lorenzo and the female character to me.
As I read, I would feel his lips on mine.
I could taste him and bask in the scent of his skin as he mastered my body in ways I’d never felt before.
I spent a lot of nights tossing in my bed after reading something hot, and the only way to extinguish the ache was to touch myself while thinking of him.
“Bianca.” Lorenzo’s voice broke into my risqué thoughts, and I realized the elevator had stopped and opened; he was blocking the door from closing as he waited for me.
“Oh.” I tried to laugh off my embarrassment, but I could feel my face heat under his gaze. “Sorry,” I apologized as I got out of the elevator and followed him down the hall.
There was a butler standing outside a set of open double doors. “Good Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Reed,” he greeted us with a smile. “I’m Stefan, and I’ll be the first shift butler on this floor.” He gestured for us to go into our room.
Together, hand in hand, we entered the hotel suite.
It was every bit as grand as the rest of the hotel.
To the right was a coat closet, and beside that was a wooden table with a decorative lamp.
An abstract painting hung above the table in the signature colors of the hotel, shades of blue and gold combined to make a chaotic but beautiful design.
A phone was on the table beneath the painting, and I made note of the card displaying the numbers we could call if we needed anything.
I left my suitcase by the table in the hall and took a few steps into the living area.
It had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beaches below and the Atlantic Ocean.
The wintery sky and the rolling waves made the perfect backdrop for a romantic getaway.
I sighed, but this wasn’t romantic. This was a necessary means to an end–a duty for Lorenzo, and a small glimpse of the life I’d never have, getting in the way of the one I so desperately wanted.
The couches in the living room were cream with gold and navy accent pillows; the floor was real hardwood or synthetic.
Who could really tell? Another gold and blue abstract painting hung on the living room wall above the curved couch.
It was bigger, but with the same theme and vibes as the smaller one in the entryway.
The other wall had a massive television with a sleek electric fireplace that was already glowing and adding warmth to the room.
There was a full kitchen, complete with a dining table, and another set of double doors stood open between the two main living spaces.
I walked inside to more windows, a massive king-size bed, and a settee.
There was a dresser with another television hanging over it, a walk-in closet, and another set of double doors.
“It just keeps going.” I looked back at Lorenzo, who was following behind me into the bedroom. He set his bag on the bed, and Stefan thankfully stayed in the common living spaces instead of following us in here.
“You act like you live in a rundown trailer.” He smirked, amused by my reaction to the luxury suite he’d booked us.
“It’s not like I’ve stayed in many hotels either.” I shrugged. “Part of the draw to me going on tour with the dance company was to get out of Brooklyn and see a little of the world.”
I turned my back to him and stared around at the massive bathroom. There was a jacuzzi tub, a glass shower that had the signature blue and gold marble on the one and only wall, as well as the floor. Three sides of the shower were glass, so you could see the ocean while you showered.
“I guess you haven’t. Hell, I haven’t seen much of the world, really, but I have been down here to Atlantic City a few times, and I’ve stayed at hotels even in the city.”
I turned to look at him. “Why would you stay at hotels–” I cut myself off and blushed. “Nevermind.” I didn’t want to finish the question, and I really didn’t need to hear his answer.
He grinned down at me and gave a sexy wink.
“I’m going to go get rid of Stefan. I want you to take a shower and get dressed in something comfortable.
I’ve booked you some time at the spa for today.
A massage, pedicure, manicure, and it’s up to you if you want to go to the salon. You need to relax today.”
“What are you going to do while I do all of this relaxing?” I asked him curiously.
“I’ll be doing what grooms do the day before their wedding.
Play a few rounds of poker in the casino and have a few drinks.
” He shrugged. “We have dinner reservations at seven downstairs at the Blue Vein. Oh, and the restaurant does have a dress code, cocktail attire. If you need to go shopping, you will need to shoot me a text, and I’ll take you.
The spa services are all together, so you shouldn’t leave that section without me. Am I clear?”
“I’m not a kid, Lorenzo,” I snapped at him. I know he was doing something nice for me, wanting me to relax and have a good time before I ended up hitched to him, but I still felt like I was being babysat.
“I’m not trying to be bossy, Bianca. This isn’t just an ordinary Hotel and Casino.
I needed to take you somewhere safe from the cartel.
A powerful Russian family owns the Obsidian, so the cartel would risk a war by trying to do something on Russian turf.
They wouldn’t be idiots to risk it. I want to make sure you are safe at all times, so if you need to go shopping for a cocktail dress, I would prefer to take you. ”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “There’s no getting away from the mob life, is there? We can’t even go away for a weekend without it hanging over us.”
My eyes popped open when I felt Lorenzo’s strong arms wrap around me. “It’s who we are, Bianca.” He murmured softly against my hair. His warmth seeped into my body, and I just wanted to burrow deeper inside him. I felt safe in his arms, but then again, I always felt safe with Lorenzo.
***
I had to hand it to him. Lorenzo wanted me to feel relaxed, and after an hour-long, head-to-toe massage, I felt like a wet noodle. My body was humming with bliss as I sat in the massage chair getting my pedicure.
“Did you want a drink, Mrs. Reed?” One of the technicians asked me as I pulled my phone out to open a book on my reading app.
“Yes, please. What do you have?”
“Anything you want, ma’am.” She smiled kindly.
“Can I get a mimosa?”
“Sure. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” I offered and scrolled through my books to see which one I wanted to read while I had my pedicure. I spent the next two and a half hours getting pampered while I sipped on mimosas and read a sexy book.
By the time I was done getting the royal treatment, I was a little tipsy from the mimosas. If I hadn’t drunk a bottle of water between each drink, I’d have been three sheets to the wind. But a little tipsy wasn’t a bad thing.
I decided to skip getting my hair done since it’d been less than a month since my last appointment back in New York. Feeling good, I took my phone and sent Lorenzo a text.
Me: I’m ready to go shopping for a dress.
Lorenzo: I’m on my way. Wait inside the spa.
Me: I feel like Jell-O.
I giggled as I watched the little bubbles bounce as he was typing.
Lorenzo: Like Jell-O huh? What made you feel like Jell-O?
I debated answering the question honestly with a simple ‘you’.
Because the man damn well did make me feel like Jell-O whenever I was around him.
Hell, even when I wasn’t, I was just thinking about him while I was reading my books.
I sighed. That was too blunt. Too honest. I was not drunk enough for that.
Lorenzo: B?
Me: The massage of course. I needed that. Thank you.
I bit my lip and waited for his response. It didn’t take long.
Lorenzo: You’re welcome. You can come out, I’m right outside.
I took a deep breath and put my phone back in my purse, then headed for the frosted doors that led back out to the main hub of the resort.
Just like he said, Lorenzo was standing there waiting for me.
His black jeans were fitted as if he were a male model.
The black button-down shirt he wore was untucked, and the sleeves were rolled up on his tattooed forearms. His dark hair was a bit longer than traditional, and the scruff on his face did little to hide the sharpness of his beautiful, solid jaw. He was perfection.
I must have stopped to ogle him because he was staring at me with a bemused smirk on his face. “What did you have to drink?” He asked when I recovered my wits enough to keep moving toward him.
“A couple of mimosas while I was getting my nails done and my pedicure.” I smiled and took his arm instinctively.
He didn’t push me away and sighed in relief.
For a minute, I wanted all of this to be real.
I wanted to live in this blissful dream for a few minutes before I had to return to reality and sober up.
“You said you wanted to go shopping?”
“Yes. I brought dresses that could possibly work for getting married in, but nothing for a cocktail dinner and a night out on the town.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have a suit?” I asked him when I saw the men's clothing in the store window. I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice.
“Two.” He huffed softly. “One for tonight, and one for tomorrow.”
“Oh.” He must have heard the disappointment in my voice because he stopped me and turned me to face him, his hands cupping my shoulders.
“Bianca.” His voice was low and sexy. “Do you want me to buy a new suit?”
I bit my lip, my gaze flickered down to his chin. I could see the curve of his smile and those full lips. God, I wanted to know his taste, not just dream about it.
“Yes,” I finally answered, keeping my gaze away from his. I felt like the fizzy bubbles that were in my mimosas were tickling their way from my core to my chest.
“You’re blushing, Bianca,” he whispered as he crooked his finger and raised my chin.
Those bubbles affecting my core and chest started bursting as I felt his breath and the whispered words on my face.
“Yes,” I said, not even caring what he said, if it was a question, or if I answered correctly. His lips were right there, and I was hungry for him.
I felt his hand on my face, and I leaned into his touch, my eyes closing as my blood thickened in my veins. His arm wrapped around me, and he pulled me close. His tall, strong, hard body was pressed into my lean, willowy curves. ‘Oh, God,’ I thought to myself, ‘This is really happening.’
His lips brushed against my hair, and his thumb slid across my lower lip. “Bianca,” he said my name in a raspy whisper.
“Yes?” My question came out more as a plea for more.
“Open your eyes.” It took effort, but I did as he instructed and opened my eyes. My whole body was burning and melting for him. When my eyes met his, he whispered against my lips one word, “Later.”