Page 106 of His Guilty Pleasure


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"You reallywerethe hero that day," he says indignantly.

I preen a little. Can't help it. "I did what I could. Anyway. This sounds weird to me. What's this deal they're talking about? Simmy thought they were into each other, but it sounds like more than that to me. You?"

Darian is still frowning a little, concentrating. "Yes," he says. "It does. Raffi, I think—I think you should tell Don Castellani about this. Mr. Andretti was not supposed to be in contact with the Bernardis, but if he was passing messages through Ms. Rochford, as it looks like here?—"

"Yeah," I breathe out. "Looks like."Lookslike. "I'll talk to the Boss in the morning. He won't thank me for calling this late."

Darian yawns, then looks surprised at himself. "I beg your pardon," he says primly, covering his mouth.

I stand up and stretch out the kink in my neck, holding out a hand to Darian. "I don't want you begging for my pardon. I want you begging for my dick," I tell him bluntly, and then I get to enjoy that flush up his neck and into his cheeks again. I lean in and kiss him. "Time to knock off. Don't you think?"

He smirks, actually smirks. Ah, I've completely corrupted him. "Yes, I think we've done all we can for tonight." He turns off his tablet. "I just hope this party will go well," he adds, a note of fretfulness to his voice. "It's my first solo event of this size."

"Let's just hope it doesn't gettooexciting," I murmur, and then wish I hadn't.

Why do I feel like I just totally jinxed it?

CHAPTER 43

DARIAN

I tugat my bow tie, straightening it for the hundredth time.

Tonight is my first solo event. No Chef Laurent to rely on, and the usual house staff have been replaced by the caterer's people—after Raffi conducted thorough background checks on all of them.

But what if something goes wrong?

What if I mess up in front of all those powerful people?

Still, a thrill runs through me. Raffi will be there as head of security, and he'll keep me calm. Everything will be fine. I'm certain of it.

The white tux I'm wearing was a special gift from Mom for this occasion, and I'm so touched that she sent it. I feel like it's a signal that she really has forgiven me for not telling her in the first place about working at Redwood. She was so worried when she realized who my employers really were, and of course I can't blame her, but it made for a difficult few weeks.

But we hashed things out eventually. And next time I go home, she's promised to tell me more about New York, about her life there.

About my father.

And she made a brand new black tux for Raffi, too, from the measurements I sent her, and I can'twaitto see him in it. I feel like gifting it to him was another sign that she accepted my place here.

So now I take a deep breath and steel myself. It's time. I've been getting ready in one of the spare rooms in the Retreat, fully complete now, and a modern masterpiece of glass and wood that seems to emerge organically from the forest around it. As I walk out into the large, glass-walled living area, which has been set up perfectly for the party, my heart leaps when I spot Raffi by the entrance. He gives me a smirk as our eyes meet.

He looksreallygood in his suit.

"You look good enough to eat," he murmurs as I approach him, pulling me into the shadows for a searing kiss.

"Behave," I say breathlessly. "I have a job to do."

He nips at my ear. "Then we'll continue this later."

I pull away, pulse racing with anxiety now as I see the first guests approaching, walking along the pathway on the outskirts of the redwood grove. "Showtime," I say to Raffi.

"Break a leg, D."

I hurry to alert Julian and Leo, and then I go to turn on the music and set the mood lighting.

Tonight will beperfect. It just has to be.

By the time all the guests have arrived, everything is under control. Mingling with the crowd, I see glittering celebrities and dangerous mobsters side by side. Gino Bernardi stands in the center of things with Roxy Rochford, who looks stunning in a curve-hugging, glittering emerald dress. My hands shake only a little as I offer them champagne, remembering the last time I saw them in person.