His Contracted Temptation; Velvet Lies

A RECIPE FOR DISASTER

VALERIA

Walking into Dante's kitchen, I can’t believe I’ve never used this place before—there’s a huge island, smart tech everywhere, endless counter space, and every cooking gadget you could imagine.

"Wow," I breathe out.

"You like?" Helen, the head housekeeper asks, the pride in her voice ringing like a doorbell.

"Like?" I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Mi amor, this place is just perfect. I love it!" I clap my hands spinning in a small circle and Helen laughs behind me.

Turning to her I say, "Thanks for letting me use the kitchen—"

"Oh please. It's more of yours than mine," then lowering her voice she adds, "you're going to be the future Mrs Romano, chica." A wink follows and I smile back, not able to hold back myself.

"You're one lucky girl, Valentina," the warmth in her voice is contagious, I smile further. "The way Mr Romano looks at you? Give it a year and this place would be full of babies."

"Oh my God, Helen, is that all anyone talks about here," Colour rises to my face and I cover my face with my hands.

Helen pulls me closer, eyes darting around to make sure no one is around. "Don't act so clueless Val, you know we're happy he didn't end up Alex, she was so full of herself, that girl." Helen makes a tsk sound, her features hardening to a frown. "—and Mr Romano didn't smile as much as he does now plus they were always fighting like Tom and Jerry. He's much happier with you," she places a hand over mine, eyes softening in that motherly way that makes me blush.

If only they had a clue.

"I'm happy I make him happy, Helen. But if you don't mind I have a meal to cook,"

"Of course I'll leave you to do your thing. If you need anything just let me know." With that she leaves the kitchen.

Babies... As much as I try not to let my thoughts run wild, my brain practicalises the perfect theory of what you resist persists and soon I'm imagining myself with three kids; a girl and two boys in a country house with Dante.

Kill me already.

"Nope. We're not doing that!" I remind myself, moving to the pantry to fetch what I'll need; pepper, tomatoes, beef, more pepper, cilantro, onions...

Keep your head in the game Valeria, we don't need any distractions now do we?

I begin to chop the onions and my eyes tear up with every slice, slowing me down.

"f**k!" I hiss, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

“You could just blend it,” comes that now-familiar voice behind me. I turn to find him leaning against the island—black hair skimming the edge of his eyebrows, gaze lazy and half-lidded, in that quiet confident way that makes him far too sexy for his own good.

"I learned it this way," I sneeze.

"Didn't know you could cook," his gaze drifts around the kitchen before landing on me.

"Well I do," I move to the sink to wash my hands. Dante follows me slowly.

"So what's on this night's menu? Something really spicy I can tell..."

"Go on," I pour the pepper into the blender and turn it on.

"Definitely not Italian," he adds causing me to smile.

"Since you know so much about cooking why don't you help out?" I arch a brow, hand on my waist, pointing a dishing spoon at him.

"Is that a challenge?" Dante rolls his neck, a cracking sound follows.

"Depends, this isn't pancakes though so you'll be here for a while," I grin.

"Me?" Dante points at himself, rolling up his sleeves. "I have a lot of talents outside business and s*x, Mamacita."

"Really?" I gasp in mock surprise, "Tell me about it because I was beginning to think that was all,"

"Aren't you cute? I was beginning to think that was all," he says rolling his eyes, mimicking me. My lips quirk and I find myself laughing despite my vow to keep a straight face.

"What's in it for me if I wow the guest?"

"Let's see—"

Dante holds up his "Nope! I just had an idea" he steps closer, glazed eyes raking over my figure. "I get to f**k you exactly the way I wanted to this morning. Deal."

"Technically it's not a deal if I don't agree," I snort.

"Don't pretend you've not been thinking of my c**k buried in that tight little p***y of yours, stuffing you till you're full of my sperm...Tell me Valeria, when last did you get f****d?"

Sweet Jesus, I can't take my eyes off this God–man, or whatever it is you call the likes of Dante. My throat goes dry, a wave of heat runs through my thighs, my p***y tightening. I let out a loud breath, lowering my eyes.

"What's in it for you or are you suddenly too horny to speak?" Dante snorts sliding the dishing spoon from my hand and moves to the stove.

"You'll make me breakfast if your food tastes like s**t," I say, finally finding my voice.

"And why would you want to eat shitty food for breakfast Bellissima?" He tilts his head, squinting at me.

"Anything to be a pain in your ass, my love," I curtsy.

"I never lose a bet so get ready to stay awake."

Just one sentence and I'm already tempted to ruin my meal. How exactly does he want to f**k me though? Focus Valeria, that small voice in my head scolds and I go back to rinsing tomatoes.

Dante bent on doing things his way decides to prepare an Italian meal; spicy shrimp linguine while I Colombian hot sauce and Colombian style fried empanadas.

A work call to Dante reminds me of the break in at Cyber Blue and I remember I never asked about the incident. Well Valeria aren't you such a wife.

"So how's work?" I sniffle, stirring the sauce.

“Aside from the break-in? Pretty normal.” His voice is tired, distant betraying his speech.

"Have the perpetrators been caught?" The minute I ask I regret doing so. Dante turns to face me, his expression dangling between confusion and anger.

"No and please can we not talk about work?" his voice is surprisingly calm and I nod.

"Thanks." The rest of the night, we talk about everything but his parents, my past, or his work. Laughter and teasing fly between us like stray sparks, and I catch myself wishing the moment could last a little longer.

I'm sealing the edge of my empanadas when Helen announces Diego has arrived. The confusion in her voice isn't lost and I purposely avoid eye contact with her.

"Done," Dante announces with a grin.

"Almost done," I sigh. “Think we can eat here instead of that fancy dining room of yours?”

"Sure, I hope he doesn't mind my humble kitchen" Dante smirks mischievously, I flip my finger and head to get Diego.

♠♠♠♠

"Diego, this is Dante, my boyfriend. Dante, this is my friend Diego" I step back allowing the men access themselves, something even I as a lady have to admit I find annoying.

Diego barely blinks, his shoulders are squared in that annoying macho stance that makes me want to snort. Tattoos snake down his forearm where they rest on the table and I can't tell if he's forgotten his table manners or is just trying to piss someone off. Dante on the other hand looks amused, like he's already thought of three ways to put Diego in his place.

“Okay,” I say quickly, desperate to break the tension. "Why don't you introduce yourself Diego, " then turning to Dante I whisper. "He's a little shy,"

Dante nods, clearly not buying my lie.

"So, Diego here—"

"Nice to finally meet you, Valeria talks about you all the time," Diego says flatly.

Holy crap.

If I could kick him right now I swear I would. Really?

"Good meeting you too bro," Dante's grin is easy, but his grip isn't. He catches Diego's hands before he can pull away, holding just long enough to make a point. A flicker of surprise flashes in his eyes before he schools it over with a nod.

Turning to me he adds, "Coming from a distant friend I'm impressed my name gets that much airtime."

I smile, stare narrowing to Diego who's too busy being a d**k to notice.

I mutter a short prayer for calm. At the rate these men are escalating, peace might be wishful thinking.