Never Dare a Tycoon (16 page)

It was a unique experience for Antonia. She usually attended these types of affairs as Sal’s escort and was unintentionally excluded from the conversations by her older brother.

Antonia took a glass of champagne from a waiter, but this time, she was careful to drink it slowly. She didn’t want a repeat of the last time they were at a formal occasion together. Whenever Brett turned to her, she did her best to ignore him. Unfortunately, he only found it amusing and came up with some reason to touch her. If she turned her back to him, he would casually run a hand down her spine. If she only turned halfway, he trailed a finger down her bare arm. There were times she could barely pay attention to the person speaking because Brett was pulling her against him or touching her in some privately erotic way, leaving her shaking and wanting more.

After two hours of socializing, Brett pulled her out onto the dance floor. He pulled her close, leaning down and nuzzling her ear. “I know what you’re doing,” he said, chuckling softly.

“What am I doing?” she asked breathlessly. Brett was a wonderful dancer. The music, his cologne and his closeness all made her head spin in a magical way.

“You’re trying to ignore me. It’s your way of telling me that I should drop the wedding idea.” He spun her to the right, using the twirl as an excuse to wedge a leg between hers. To a casual observer, it seemed a very gentlemanly move. But Antonia had reached a point of sexual tension where should could no longer think, she was so tuned to every movement Brett made.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, holding on to his shoulder tightly as he pulled her closer to twirl her to the left.

 

“I heard your Aunt Marsha found the perfect wedding dress for you,” he said.

This was the first time she’d heard that and it showed on her face. “What do you mean?” she asked. She was hoping to stall the purchase of a dress. How was she supposed to do that when all her aunts and cousins were going out on their own to search one out for her?

“I don’t know anything other than that it’s perfect for you, according to Marsha. No one will tell me anything except to wear a tuxedo.”

 

“Oh,” she said, her mind spinning.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Brett laughed in her ear. “All the bills are coming to me. So if you run away at the last minute, Sal won’t be stuck with thousands of dollars worth of wedding bills.”

Antonia couldn’t believe that Sal would allow that. “Does he know this?” she asked.

 

“No. I arranged it all myself.”

She didn’t want to discuss the monetary aspect of this charade. It would make her too ill to know how much had already been committed as her sisters tried to create her dream wedding.

But Brett wasn’t going to allow her the luxury of ignorance. He leaned down and whispered how much had already been spent. The number was so high, she missed a step. “That’s emotional blackmail,” she said accusingly. “You’re not playing fair. On top of everything else, though, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said angrily, refusing to look at him. She looked off to the side, smiling at the other dancers, at the orchestra, anything but him.

“That’s exactly what it is,” he said, laughing and twirled her again, bringing her close again.

 

“Well, at least it’s your money and not mine. I don’t care about that,” she said, wishing it were true.

 

“Good. I enjoy spending it on you.”

Giving in to her panic, she almost tripped on her own feet. Looking up into his blue eyes, she pleaded, “Brett, this is crazy, why don’t we just walk away from it all.”

Antonia felt his hand tighten over hers. “Because you’d be walking away from it because you’re afraid of me. Of what I make you feel,” he said.

 

“That’s not true,” she denied too harshly.

“Yes it is,” he said, leaning down again and kissing her earlobe. Antonia instantly shivered, the pleasure she remembered from their one night of passion a distant memory compared to now and the pleasure he could make her feel with a simple touch.

“Why fight something that’s inevitable?” Brett said.

 

“I refuse to believe that this wedding is inevitable,” she said, shaking her head.

 

Instead of responding, he pulled her closer, moving to the music.

Antonia was silent on the drive home that night. As soon as he pulled up in front of the house, she jumped out. But Brett was right behind her. He followed her to the door. Before she could put her key in the lock, he turned her around gently but forcibly.

“Antonia, the wedding is inevitable. The sooner you realize it, the sooner you’ll enjoy it,” he said a moment before his mouth descended upon hers.

Antonia’s body betrayed her. She wanted him despite his manipulative behavior. She wanted him badly. And just as always, when he kissed her, all thought of avoiding him flew out of her mind. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, desire sparking through her system.

She felt him touch her bare shoulders, his hands sliding down to her waist. And she wanted more. Pressing her body into his, she gripped his shoulders, one hand slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Antonia moaned when she felt his hands on her thighs, pushing the skirt back so that he was touching the tops of her thigh high stockings.

And then abruptly he stopped. Putting his hands on her shoulders, Brett set her away from him. “We cannot make love on the steps of your front porch,” he said, obviously as affected as she was.

As soon as the cool air hit her face, she was able to breathe a little easier. She shook her head to try and concentrate. But she dropped her keys twice because her hands were shaking too violently to hold onto them. Finally, Brett picked them up and carefully unlocked the door for her.

Handing back her keys, he looked into her eyes. “I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” he asked.

 

Antonia nodded. Closing the door, she wondered why she’d agreed. Every time she was around him, she fell to his wishes. It was total insanity.

In her room, she took off her new dress and hung it carefully in the closet. The dress idea was obviously a mistake, she thought. So was the attempt to be bored throughout the evening. There had to be something she could do to get her life back, she thought.

Laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she considered her options. She could create a new life somewhere. Just because all of her family lived here, didn’t mean she had to stay.

Initially, she rejected the idea because the thought of not seeing her nieces and nephews, much less her brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins was too painful. Then she pictured her life with Brett and the tears started flowing. She realized she was in love with him. She didn’t want to be, but she was. Life with Brett would be heaven and hell. The passion he could so easily stir within her would make the nights wonderful. But he was bossy and manipulative, just as her father and brothers had been through her whole life. She would not put herself back into that kind of position.

Leaving was the only option. She’d have to do it. She would have to get out of Washington, D.C. She’d lived her whole life here. She wasn’t even sure where she would go. She loved this area. It was cosmopolitan without being overwhelming. There was so much to do and see, the museums and theatres always thrilled her with their variety.

But she knew she’d have to do it. And with her savings as well as her stock portfolio, she could leave and find a new life. She’d have to cash in her stock portfolio in order to accomplish it. Maybe she could get away with only liquidating a small portion, but she felt better knowing that it was there.

She didn’t fall asleep until the sun started rising over the horizon. Instead, she made plans, forcing herself to ignore the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of not seeing her family whenever she wanted to.

Chapter 8

By noon the next morning, she woke up feeling enormously better. She had a plan and knew how to accomplish it. The first thing she had to do was find a place to live. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a white, cotton blouse, she headed downstairs to tell Maria that she’d be gone for the rest of the day.

Ignoring the blue Porsche parked in the driveway with the top protectively in place, she went in search of her motorcycle, since it wasn’t parked by the side of the house where she’d left it. In the garage, she found her motorcycle with its helmet attached to it. The bike was leaning against the back wall. hopped on. Jumping on the starter produced no effect. nothing. She pushed it outside and She tried it again. Still

Putting the stand down, she got off and examined the engine. She’d been having trouble with the starter, but not for a while. Following the gas line from the starter to the tank, she discovered the problem. Someone had disconnected the line. Antonia chuckled at her brothers’ attempt to keep her off her motorcycle. They hadn’t said anything about it, but now she knew their thoughts. Loud and clear. Her wonderful, protective brothers considered a motorcycle too dangerous for their baby sister to ride.

Shaking her head, Antonia took off her helmet and headed into the garage for the tools she’d need. Gathering up a screw driver and a wrench, she went back out and bent over her bike. It was a simple thing to reattach the line. She added some silicone adhesive to seal it, then examined the other parts.

Everything else seemed ok. She went back inside and decided to wait fifteen more minutes for the silicon to dry enough so it wouldn’t be a concern. Grabbing some orange juice, she ran into Sal.

“Good morning. Why aren’t you at your office?” she asked, feeling proud of herself now that she had foiled their plans. And the fact that they were still trying to control her, made her more determined to leave here. Last night, laying in bed she realized that she could still come back to visit for the holidays. That was good enough for other families, so it had to be good enough for her.

“I’m on my way. What are your plans for today?” Sal asked. “I have some research to do,” she replied.

 

“What kind of research?” he asked.

 

Sighing, she shook her head. “Sal, I was forced to move back in here, but I’m not letting you control my life. This whole scheme is crazy.”

 

“Then just tell Brett that you won’t marry him,” Sal said.

 

Antonia saw the grin on his face, but she didn’t understand it. “He won’t listen to me.”

 

“Well, I guess that’s that. Relax, I don’t think marriage to Brett Hancock can be all that terrible, can it?” he asked.

 

Antonia didn’t answer him. She looked at her watch, then back at him. “Ok, I’m on my way out the door.”

 

“What time are you coming home?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” Antonia let the kitchen door close behind her before he could ask anything else. She realized that she was shaking. She was really on a roll lately. It seemed that every interaction with Sal was now a confrontation. She needed to get control of herself. He was only doing what he thought was in her best interests. Just because she couldn’t make him understand that she knew what her best interests were better than he did, she could at least be polite to him.

She pulled her helmet down onto her head again and pushed the starter. Sure enough, it revved immediately. With just a small twitch of her hand, she was driving off, down the driveway and away from her current prison.

Antonia drove along the street, enjoying the spring day. She noticed the daffodils starting to peek out and the forsythia was just about to explode with its beautiful golden flowers. As she drove, she made the decision that she would have to live in an area that provided this much color in the springtime as well as the extraordinary fall foliage. The two transition periods were a wonder that never ceased to amaze her.

She drove to the Library of Congress. If there was information to be found, it was in one of those buildings. Finding a place in the Main Reading Room, she put her back pack on a chair then headed over to an unoccupied computer terminal. She found several articles on the best cities to live from magazines. From there, she went on to locate each State’s statistics and books describing the areas in which the “best” cities were located.

She handed her initial request to a librarian, then went back to get more titles. She deviated from the list of “best” cities by looking up areas that she thought might be a little different from Washington, D.C. She requested information on Montana, California, Washington State, Massachusetts and Vermont.

By the time she finished at the computer, there was already a stack of books waiting for her, delivered by a mysterious library worker. So she sat down and started reading, taking notes on the various places. She worked throughout the afternoon without realizing the time. She looked up around seven o’clock only because her stomach started growling. Skipping breakfast, lunch and dinner weren’t a good idea, she told herself.

Antonia grabbed a bite from a small restaurant, then saw a movie, a romantic comedy that allowed her a little time to relax and forget her current predicament.

By the time she left the movie, it was late. She started her motorcycle again, driving straight to the house. She parked her bike behind the garage, hoping no one would tamper with it again, but knowing she could fix anything that they tried to unplug. She’d had so many problems with this bike, she’d basically taken it apart several times over. Each time something broke, she fixed it herself because she couldn’t justify the expense of a mechanic when she could read a book and do the repairs herself.

She heard voices in the front of the house as she entered from the back, but she couldn’t hear the words or distinguish the voices. She assumed that her brothers were having some sort of business meeting, so she walked by the door and headed for the staircase.

“Antonia!” she heard from behind her.

 

It was Brett’s voice.

 

Turning slowly, she faced all five of her brothers and one very angry Brett. Pasting a bright smile on her face, she ventured to ask, “What’s wrong?”

Brett pushed his hands through his hair which looked like it had seen a lot of frustration in the last few hours. Coming forward he demanded, “Where the hell have you been?”