188

I emerge twenty minutes later, the stains replaced with a sheer gloss instead, and make my way to the huge, opulent dining room, sliding in beside him at the table amid the arrival of some of the others. He’s using his phone and completely ignores me. I bristle, knowing this isn’t a normal Jake move, but I’m not going to let it get to me; I’m going to act like I don’t care and sit down. I stop myself from looking at him, despite the impulse to eye up how gorgeous he always looks.
As soon as everyone is seated, he puts his phone away, leans back on his chair, and places an arm across the back of mine while throwing me a triumphant look. I notice that his father, sitting very still, is watching us from a distance at the head of the huge dark wood table. I had managed to avoid him until now, but dinner will be interesting. I get the distinct impression Giovanni is not all that enamored with his son hooking up with an employee from his own office, especially a nobody with no fortune and a troubled past.
“You can still back out now, Bambina. Then we can enjoy dinner and a lot of fun after.” Jake nudges me quietly, commanding my attention, his eyes steady on my face. He drops his gaze to my mouth and smirks some more at the lack of red lipstick. It only ignites my inner stubbornness.
“Why would I? You’re obviously struggling, Jake. I’m sure if it’s too hard, you can admit defeat,” I smile salaciously and turn my attention to my champagne glass, running my finger around the rim teasingly. He watches me with interest for a moment, then gets up with a smile.
“I told Cara I would sit beside her tonight,” he smirks cruelly at me, then saunters off to the seat beside the girl, receiving an award-winning smile from her. I almost inwardly curl up and tremble. Nausea and anxiety equally consume my stomach with a tight gut-wrenching throb as jealousy punches its way into my gut.
What is he doing? Surely Jake would not do this to me for the sake of a stupid challenge?
Arrick appears in the doorway and immediately sits next to me, greeting me with a warm hello and no sense of surprise at all. I try to smile, but it doesn’t come naturally.
“Don’t worry about Cara,” he says, leaning into me conspiringly, “She wouldn’t know what to do with someone like Jake, and he only has eyes for you, mia cara.” He nudges me with his shoulder, and this time I genuinely smile at his kindness and the family trait of mixing English and Italian, something they all seem to do.
“You’re not worried if your girlfriend tries to run off with your brother?” I pout, keeping my eyes away from Jake, who’s engrossed in his deep conversation with his devoted fan. Cara is almost drooling over him.
Slut!
“Nah, Jake would never do that to you or me. Besides, Cara isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just a passing interest.” He studies my shocked face. “I’m more like my brother than you realize, and, yes, he told me you two have some sort of bet going … abstaining from sex until one of you breaks.” He winks and picks up his glass. “I suggest you play him at his own game; Jake hates to lose, but he does love the thrill of the challenge.”
“What do you mean?” I glance over and see Jake sprawled effortlessly in his seat, commanding not only Cara’s attention but also the quiet brunettes that came with his other cousin too, both fluttering lashes and smiling at him coquettishly. He’s in full flirt mode, demanding adoration with ease.
For God’s sake!
“You have a table of virile young men to charm and a face pretty enough to do it.” He pats my hand and sits back as his appetizer is laid before him. I lean back as my plate of asparagus spears, boiled egg, and hollandaise sauce piled delicately on top is placed before me by one of the uniformed maids. I smile warmly at her and get one in return, catching Jake from the corner of my eye and thanking the girl who gave him his food. Stupidly, I smile internally and push it back down.
“I’m not Jake,” I say, turning back to my dinner mate. “Commanding the attention of the opposite sex isn’t my style.” Arrick would be unaware that most men still make me feel uncomfortable despite how I am with Jake. Arrick seems to be an exception, though sitting with him now, I couldn’t feel more at ease. I guess it’s because he is enough like Jake to feel relaxed around; something about him, much like his brother, makes me feel safe.
“You know Jake better than most, Emma … you know how to push his buttons and throw him off his game. Use what you know. You obviously have an influence over him that no one else can even come close to.” He smiles and tucks into his food while I sit and look at my plate, pondering his words. Arrick is a wise one; he has that quick Carrero mind and that flawless confidence. He is one to watch in the coming years as he comes into his manhood. Jake may have a competitor within the family business with this one.
It's true, though; I know Jake well enough to understand a few things about him: one, that he can get insanely jealous, but it’s never a good route to take, as I have already proven more than once; two, he’s better than most people at games, seems to get a kick out of winning and can read people and situations with deadly speed; Three, when it comes to me, he always takes care of me obsessively, and even when he’s mad, he still can’t help but be protective. I glance at him for a second, catching his eye as he eats, and look away, a small plan formulating in my head.
This has gone beyond a battle of sex. This has become a game of the upper hand. And if I have to play a low card, like he’s done with his ‘sexpertise’ already, then I will. My strong point isn’t sex, it’s Jake’s inability to see me hurt or cry, his never-ending need to fix things for me. It’s Jake’s love for me that is his ultimate weakness. I soar with internal smugness at figuring this out, purring to myself confidently. I can’t beat him at sex with my inexperience, but I can bend him with emotions. My emotions. Tucking into my food slowly, I keep my face impassive and stare at my plate as I mull it over.
I know how to play this. PA Emma’s cool, emotionless outer shell always drove him crazy.
I stay quiet through dinner, never looking at him even though I can hear him flirting and trying his hardest to affect me, but I don’t react. I don’t want him to see that it’s bothering me a lot because it brings him amusement to see my fiery green-eyed reaction. I do want him to feel it, though. Feeling my emotions hits him differently; it brings out his need to fix it. So, my plan to appear sad and un-chatty is put into place. Jake will agonize over what I’m thinking; I know him well enough to know that my obviously closed mood will worry him.
It comes more easily the longer I carry on, and I even start to feel tearful at his over-interest in the women around him. It’s not hard to picture him as Casanova Carrero when I can hear it. Jealousy grows inside of me. With this upset comes my ability to remain cool and devoid of outward emotion.
At first, he tries to up his game when he notices I seem quiet, but as the dinner wades on, I can sense his change in mood from the listless way he fidgets with his glass and cutlery and his small glances at me. He’s tapping his fingers on the table, and I hear the almost bored tone in his voice as he’s lost all interest in his dinner mates. He’s preoccupied, so in tune with me that my mood is seriously affecting him. I wonder if he’s thinking of calling it quits and having to quell the surge of smugness from affecting my expression.
I occasionally converse with Arrick on my right and avoid looking to my left; luckily, the seat next to me is filled with a rather drunk older man who spends the entire night playing with his phone on some online gambling site. He’s an uncle or cousin who never seems to converse with anyone but makes a great barrier between Giovanni and me. I have a feeling he may be Jake’s uncle. There is a slight resemblance to Giovanni. His body is blocking me from his view and letting me get through dinner without his interest swaying my way. Jake has spoken to his father only in Italian, and there seems to be a constant coolness between them. There are enough family members between my seat and Jake’s, further up the table, so there is no need to converse with him. The whole table has been noisy throughout the meal, with people throwing conversation from all angles, and I only have to sit and listen.
I sense Jake’s gaze on me several times as I twirl my hair and chew my lip, but I resist all urges to return it. I can’t tell if my actions are getting to him or not in the way I want them to, as I’m unable to read anything from the corner of my eye. As dessert is served, I become completely silent, gazing at his mother as she tells a story or listening quietly to those around me, but never really engaging. I hope no one else is as attuned to me as he is, or they all might think I’m the most ignorant dinner guest of all time. I hope they assume I am reserved and listening.
I have to play this out if I’m to have any chance of beating him.
Lifting my wine glass to wash down the cream cannoli, my other hand tugging a strand of my hair, I shiver at a small breeze behind me as someone passes. I glance up, expecting to see the maid, but see instead the elderly gentleman seated next to me leaving the room with a puce-colored face and bored expression. Unexpectedly, an arm comes around my shoulder, and warmth envelopes me as a firm, hot mouth kisses me on the exposed skin.
“Hey, Bambina, you okay?” Jake whispers, and my inner triumph sparks as he surrounds me with his heat and smell. He’s sitting in the recently vacated seat next to me. I glance down and note he’s brought his glass of wine with him; I push down the urge to beam in his presence, instead keeping my tone controlled and flat.
“I’m fine,” I respond, with just enough of a sigh to portray that I’m not.
I should get an Oscar for this.
“You want to go for a walk or go upstairs?” He sounds concerned, hesitating that maybe he’s pushed things too far. My little boy Carrero is in full flow, so unsure and sweet.
Don’t melt. Stay strong.
“No. I’m good, thanks.” I keep my face turned from him and push the rest of my dessert around the plate absentmindedly. I know it looks to him as though I’m upset.
“You know I would never do anything, baby? I love you; I’d never hurt you like that.” The tone in his voice betrays more than apprehension. He’s trying to reassure me. He’s back-peddling, and my inner smugness rises. I keep my expression blank and my exterior controlled.
“I know,” I smile tightly and pull away from him to get up, announcing I need to go to the ladies’ room and excuse myself quickly. Jake follows close behind me, catching me in the hall.
“Emma, wait.” He catches my arm, pulling me to him and encircling me in his arms. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have behaved like that and made you feel this way. Look, can we forget all of this, Bambina? You know me. I would never do anything to make you leave me. Come upstairs, and we can go to bed early. Veg out and watch one of those trashy movies you love so much.” His furrowed brow and genuine concern make me melt and even feel slightly guilty.
This is the guy I love to death right here. This one with beautiful green eyes and a loving heart.
“You would do that for me?” I lower my lashes and look away as though I’m surprised he cares, and he falls for it hook, line, and sinker.
“Baby, it was just a game, a stupid game. I don’t need the contract signed. I just need you.” He kisses me and wipes away all my resolve. His arms slide around me firmly, pressing every inch of me against him. My insides almost self-combust.
“Take me upstairs, Jake,” I breathe into his mouth as his hands work down my curves. He doesn’t need to be told twice and grabs my hand, leading the way.

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