Pamela Yaye - Seduced By The Bachelor

“To Emilio!” Nicco raised his glass in the air. “May this award catapult you to greater heights, and cement your place in Formula One history. Saluti!”

Cheering, everyone around the table clinked glasses.

“What do you guys want to do now?” Angela asked. “I’ve had a rough week at the news station, and if anyone deserves to party tonight it’s me.”

“Let’s go to the sports bar,” Immanuel proposed, checking the time on his gold wristwatch. “The World Rugby Championship is on, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Bor-ing,” the women sang in unison.

“Markos, are you ready to go?” Tatiyana asked, tucking her purse under her forearm.

Dionne frowned. “Why are you whispering, and where are you guys sneaking off to?”

“Applause Nightclub,” she explained. “It’s old-school night, and all of my favorite acts are performing, including Divas.”

Angela whooped for joy. “Count me in!”

“Me, too.” Jariah slipped on her Pashmina shawl and hopped to her feet. “I’m game.”

“I’m going!” Dionne said. “I love R&B music, and I’m the biggest Divas fan ever.”

Immanuel kissed her forehead. “Then it’s settled. We’re going to the concert.”

Markos was convinced his ears were deceiving him. His brother, a security specialist with a stellar résumé, who they jokingly called Sharpshooter, wouldn’t be caught dead in a noisy, smoky club. Immanuel didn’t dance, preferred classical music to hip-hop and often joked he’d been born in the wrong decade. Leaning toward his brother, he kept his voice low, asking, “What happened to the rugby match? I thought you wanted to cheer on the Italian team.”

“It’s no biggie. I’ll catch the highlights when we get back tonight.”

“But you hate nightclubs,” Markos pointed out, confused by his brother’s behavior.

“I know,” Immanuel conceded with a shrug, his gaze glued to his wife, love shining in his eyes. “But what my baby wants, my baby gets, so let’s bounce.”

Chapter 4

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but the club’s full,” the bouncer said, folding his arms rigidly across his flabby chest. “Better luck next time.”

Tatiyana cringed. It was a dig, an insult meant to embarrass her in front of the chic, crowd waiting outside Applause Nightclub, located in the Ybor entertainment district. Behind her, she heard people snicker. Ma’am? The word annoyed her, and the sneer on the bouncer’s face confirmed her suspicions. He was trying to humiliate her.

“I’m calling Rafael to tell him what’s going on,” Paris said, putting her iPhone to her ear.

Jariah protested. “No, don’t. We can handle this. We’re Morrettis now, remember?”

“Exactly!” Angela agreed, fervently nodding. “We’ve got this. We don’t need the guys to rescue us. We can take care of ourselves.”

At her request, the guys had dropped them off in front of the club so they could reserve a VIP room, but if Tatiyana knew the bouncer was going to give them a hard time, she would have stuck with the guys. No way he’d insult Markos and his famous family members.

Tatiyana could hear reggae music playing inside the club, a loud, infectious beat that made her want to dance, and wanted inside the hottest party in Tampa. She knew Divas were going to put on one hell of a show for their fans, and, since Tatiyana was determined to see the group perform live, she stepped forward and glared at the heavyset bouncer. “I flew thousands of miles to see—”

“Ma’am, come back tomorrow night. Women get in free until midnight.”

Tatiyana gestured to the scantily dressed women sailing past the red, velvet rope. “If the club’s full, then where are they going?”

“That’s none of your business—”

“I wish I had my iPhone,” Tatiyana grumbled, mad at herself for forgetting it inside the Escalade Markos had rented for the weekend. It seated seven, and on the drive to the club the group had chatted about their vacation plans, their favorite spots in Tampa and laughed at Nicco’s wild, outrageous stories about his bachelor days. It was hard for Tatiyana to enjoy herself. With each passing minute, her guilt intensified. “If I had my cell with me, I’d tweet about how the bouncers at Applause Nightclub disrespect women.”

Dionne stepped forward. “This is ridiculous. I want to speak to the manager.”

The bouncer turned away, ignoring them, and Tatiyana jabbed an index finger in his shoulder. “We’re not leaving until you get the owner.”

A slim man with greasy hair and aviators emerged from the club, clutching a bottle of Cristal. Speaking to the bouncer in Spanish, he winked and nodded.

“Are you the owner?” Tatiyana asked, raising her voice to catch his attention. Spotting Markos jogging across the street with the guys, she governed her temper. Tatiyana didn’t want him to think she was a hothead, didn’t want to do anything to ruin their date, and swallowed the insult on the tip of her tongue. The Morretti family was respected and admired, and Tatiyana didn’t want to embarrass her companions. Once again, warning bells rang in her mind. Tatiyana had doubts about seducing Markos. She couldn’t quiet her fears and struggled with what to do. Maybe she shouldn’t go through with it. Maybe she should come clean to Markos, tell him everything.

Tatiyana struck the idea from her mind. My mom already did that, she thought with a heavy heart. And Markos didn’t believe her. He called her a liar, said Jantel was an opportunist trying to ruin the mayor’s reputation, and kicked them out of his office. No, she had to stick to her plan. No matter what.

“Ladies,” the owner said in a soothing voice. “I understand you’re upset, but there’s nothing I can do. It’s packed inside, and if I let you in I could get fined for overpopulating the club. Come back tomorrow. You’ll be my personal guests.”

Tatiyana started to argue, to tell the owner his bouncers were sexist jerks who disrespected women, but a cheer went up from the crowd, seizing her attention, and she broke off speaking. Demetri appeared at her right side and Emilio at the other.

“Is there a problem here?” Rafael asked.

Whooping for joy, his eyes big and wide, the owner pumped a fist in the air. “Demetri and Emilio Morretti? Here, at Applause Nightclub? This must be my lucky day!” Standing tall, he adjusted his peacock-blue tie. “Right this way. The VIP room is available, and—”

Angela interrupted him. “You said the club was full.”

“I was kidding,” he said with a hearty laugh, dismissing her words with a wave of his hand. “There’s plenty of room inside for my favorite baseball player and his family. Now, please follow me to the private entrance at the rear of the club.”

Markos clasped Tatiyana’s hand. One whiff of his cologne made her thoughts scatter and her skin tingle. He had more game than a basketball player and the lean, toned physique to match. It was no surprise other women were staring at him, too. But he was with her, had his hands draped possessively around her waist, as if staking his claim.

Tatiyana smoothed a hand over her hair and adjusted her dress. Markos caressed her skin, told her repeatedly how beautiful she looked. He spoke in a deep, manly voice, intended to seduce, and it worked. Tatiyana wanted him so bad all she could think about was kissing him.

Wearing a triumphant smirk, Tatiyana stepped past the bouncer and followed the group through the gold door at the rear of the nightclub, anxious to get Markos alone.

“I’m ready for dessert. Are you?” he whispered, sweeping his mouth over her ear.

His words gave her pause. Hold on. Who’s seducing who?

A baby-faced brunette in a white jumpsuit led them to the second floor, into a glass room with mirror balls hanging from the ceiling, velvet couches and mauve walls covered with framed paintings. The savory scent in the air tickled Tatiyana’s nose and stirred her appetite. Silver trays topped with fruit, bite-size chocolates and cheese covered the marble tables, and ice buckets, filled with champagne, sat on the bar. It was an intimate, comfortable setting, and Tatiyana was impressed.