Roaring Hot! (Contemporary Romance): A Billionaire Biker Romance (6 page)

Amy grinned to herself as she slid onto the marble bench next to the urinating cherub. It was ten in the morning the following day. Teo had said to meet her here last night, but she’d ditched him. It had been rather amusing to leave his party early once he’d cut the cameras. She’d exited the powder room after arranging for a taxi and had had a blissful night of sleep in the soft bed back at the hotel.

She’d been undisturbed until she turned on her phone after waking up. There was a short message from Mia telling her to wait for Teo at the fountain this morning for their outing. The film crew was set up, but Teo was late. He was probably paying her back for last night.

Not a problem. She had an e-reader app on her phone and she could spend the morning relaxing near the delightful gurgling of falling water, a luxury not allowed in drought stricken California.

The roar of a motorcycle blew away her peaceful thoughts. Teo’s bike skidded to a stop, spraying gravel over her jeans.

He raised his helmet visor and cocked his head in a cloud of male arrogance. “Hop on.”

His commanding voice did all sorts of squishy things to her lower regions, but Amy stiffened her neck and stomped toward the French door. A camera lens blocked her path and she almost knocked down the soundman.

Where were her cue cards? Was Mia too lazy to write her lines? Whatever. Amy was definitely not going anywhere close to a dangerous motorcycle, especially since the man straddling it made her want to self-combust.

“You gotta be kidding.” She flipped her hair over her shoulders and pointed her nose to the sky. “I only travel in limos, Mr. Alexiou. Surely, you can hire one.”

He walked the bike closer to her and scowled. “No girlfriend of mine refuses to ride. I have a helmet and jacket for you.”

The way his smooth voice said girlfriend had her jiggly parts jiggling, but she wouldn’t be won over that easily. Her jaw tightened. “I won’t get on that bike. That wasn’t in the script.”

“I’m writing the script, darling, and since you ditched me last night, I’m punishing you.” His gaze hardened.

“I specifically requested nothing dangerous. Ronaldo agreed.” Amy’s skin heated, her heartbeat quickening. “You can’t make me get on that bike.”

“Then you’re in breach. Shall I send you home?” He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to his bike, its motor hot and idling like a growling bear.

“What? You wouldn’t.” A shiver chilled her spine despite the fire fighting its way up from her lower regions.

He squeezed her arm, firmly, but not enough to hurt. “You have no idea what I would or wouldn’t do. You’ve made me angry. Very angry.”

Amy shuddered, not because of his domineering touch, or the way his masculine intensity stirred the jelly inside her girly parts. She bit her lip, hating what she was about to do next.

Lowering her gaze, she touched his forearm, clutching onto him. “I’m afraid of motorcycles. Please don’t make me get on one.”

“So, the lady begs.” One side of Teo’s mouth lifted in the mother of all smirks. “In exchange, what will you agree to do?”

“What do you want?” The heat of his touch was turning her brain to mush. His scent, all leather and motor oil, was terribly sexy, and the way he dominated her had her shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“One night without rules.” He remove his helmet and pulled her into his arms.

She was resting right up against the fuel tank, so close the heat radiated off the bike, and the vibrations made her heart jitter.

Her breath barely cleared her throat. “When?”

“At my choosing.” His lips closed around her earlobe, and his hot breath drew tingles over her neck and shoulders. He nipped her with the edge of his teeth, a sharp reminder of what she’d agreed to—a night without rules.

Amy swallowed and collected her wits despite the urge to collapse at his feet. Later was later. She had time to strengthen her resolve. If he thought a night without rules would work to his advantage, he didn’t know the first thing about her.

“Fine, call the limo.” Amy yanked herself from Teo’s grip. “I’ll meet you up front.”

* * *

Later that evening, Amy and Teo were having dinner inside a private canal boat he’d rented. The day couldn’t have been more perfect. Was Teo warming up to her or was he getting better at acting?

Since they’d shot enough footage during the day, the camera crew joined them for beer and refreshments. The water in the canal was calm, and the air hung balmy—a perfect ending to a perfect day. Would a real romantic date with a real boyfriend have ended so pleasantly?

“Here’s to an awesome first date.” Teo raised his beer mug and tapped it against Amy’s. His phony seductive voice stirred discordant chords in her gut.

“Oh stop it, you don’t have to say that.” Amy jerked her mug, causing some of the beer to slosh over the side. “They’re not recording this.”

Everything had been too easy. Teo had taken her shopping, they’d bought souvenirs, visited a chocolate factory, and dined at an old tavern made to look like the inside of an eighteenth century windmill, all wood and stone. All the while, his attention and charm mocked her, like she could only score a sexy hunk on a fake reality show date, not real life.

Teo dipped his head toward her, his arm around her shoulder. “Come on, admit it. You enjoyed yourself with me.”

Across from them, the cameraman readied the video recorder and lights, and the soundman propped up the mics.

“It was fun,” Amy whispered. “Do they really have to record everything I say?”

“Yes, unless we’re behind closed doors.” He spoke into her ear. Tingles sizzled down her spine at the way his voice flowed, smooth and seductive. His sexy scent stimulated her belly to clench with desire.

“Sorry, not in my contract.” She clamped her lips shut and tamped down the pesky hormones rioting down under. She had to put some distance between them or she’d succumb to his honeyed tongue.

Flushing at the thought of his pointy tongue, she stood to scoot away from him. The boat jostled with a loud, splintering thump. Amy lost her balance and landed in Teo’s lap. The heat rising from his crotch burned through the thin fabric of her dress, and she swallowed hard.

Men’s voices shouted, and the sound of scuffles pounded on deck. The cameraman swung just in time to capture two masked men barging into the salon. One waved a red rose in front of Amy while the other strummed his guitar.

“It is I, Ronaldo,” the man with the rose said, kneeling. “I’ve heard from reliable sources you are not ‘into’ Teo, that you’ve been pining over me. You ditched Teo last night, refused to ride with him, and yawned at his stories. Say the word, and I’ll be the racer you romance next.”

What kind of game was he playing? Was this a trick question where if she answered wrong, she’d be on her way home? Hadn’t she played the part of Teo’s girlfriend well enough? Or was this one of the complications all reality shows had?

Amy’s pulse jumped. What should she do? She couldn’t afford to be sent home now. Stick to Teo or make a try for Ronaldo?

She glanced at Teo. His face was as stone except for the vein pulsing at his temple. Too strange. It was almost as if he really cared.

“My lady?” Ronaldo smothered her hand with a kiss. “Take my rose, and Teo’s off the show. I’ll meet you in Germany in two weeks.” Ronaldo twirled the rose in her face while the guitarist strummed a jumble of clashing notes.

“What happens if I don’t?” Amy’s hand found Teo’s under the table. She had enjoyed his company. Besides, there was something about Teo that intrigued her, a pervasive sadness underneath his arrogant bravado. Frankly, she couldn’t see herself saying goodbye to him. Not now, at least.

“Then you must tell me one thing you like about him,” Ronaldo replied.

So, this was a test. She squeezed Teo’s hand. Looking into his eyes, she said the first thing that came into her mind.

“I like a man who doesn’t flinch.”

He reeled her in, without blinking, and their foreheads touched, then the tips of their noses. Amy moved first, tilting her face to capture his lips. Sure enough, no flinching.

His lips met hers straight on, his mouth already open. She pressed in, tasting the tang of chocolate and peppermint they’d shared before the interruption. She ran her tongue around the rim of his mouth, breathing him in. He was relaxed, waiting for her, unlike the other times they’d kissed.

She rather liked taking control. Sucking on his luscious lower lip, she dug her nails into the back of his neck. It was like spurring a horse. With a throaty groan, Teo turned his head and jockeyed his tongue into her mouth. Sinful, sexy, and demanding.

A powerful rush swooshed over her entire body. Heat raged in her belly, her breasts ached to be touched, and her tongue matched his stroke for stroke. What was going on? She’d never been kissed like this before, or rather let herself kiss a man so passionately.

Panting for breath, she caressed his stubbly jaw and leaned back, bringing his eyes open. The intense darkness of his irises, focused, seductive, tempting, shot daggers into her heart. He wanted her, and it pained him. There was no mistaking the flicker of agony before the carefree mask smoothed his face.

He tapped her nose and grinned. “Two weeks, sweetie. I’ll see you in Germany.”

“Twenty thousand dollars.” Amy waved the check in front of Peter, her apartment mate and best buddy. “While I was gone, did you line up any auditions?”

She was back in Los Angeles, after a rather successful shooting of
Romancing the Racer
. She had a little less than two weeks before the next session in Germany.

“You’ve a full schedule for walk-on roles, and a couple of TV dramas.” Peter, her self-styled agent, swiped at the check, but Amy tucked it behind her back.

She sauntered to the ratty old couch and flopped on it. “After I pay off the back rent and give you your cut, we might be able to buy new furniture.”

“First, let’s do a wardrobe check.” Peter lugged her suitcases to her room.

“Can you believe they let me keep the jeweled gown?” Amy said, following him. “I really captured Teo’s eye with that one.”

“Did they show you any of the videos? It would be interesting to critique them.” Peter kicked open her door and dragged the cases in.

“Obviously not. Who knows what will survive the cutting room?” Amy stopped at the threshold of her bedroom. “What happened here? Don’t tell me you cleaned.”

“Not me. Your mother did.” Peter swept his hand to show her the pristine room, devoid of personality. Motivational posters with mottos on success, leadership, and teamwork were pasted on the walls, and the bed was made with a severe pinstriped bedspread with Spartan tucked corners.

“What happened to all my etchings, pinups and the folk art I collected?” Amy yanked the dresser drawer. “All my silk and lace underwear are gone.”

She opened the closet. Rows of sensible business suits replaced the party dresses and gowns she owned. Sterile pumps in wooden shoe stretchers hung in her shoe organizer.

“What the heck did she do with my clothes? I hope she didn’t give them away.” Amy’s voice shrieked to ear piercing levels.

“Ow, ow.” Peter covered his ears. “I dug them out of the bin. They’re in my room.”

“Why did you let her in?”

“I didn’t. I walked in as your brother was lugging out a garbage bag. She must have convinced the supervisor to open the door for her.”

What the hell was wrong with her parents? Her dad was all bark and no bite, but her mom? Sneak attack territory. Passive aggressive.

Her breath fuming, Amy tore past Peter to his room. “Where’s my stuff? Did you save everything?”

“Of course I did, but it’s going to cost you for storage.”

“Grrr … Don’t you do anything because you like me?” Amy dug through his mess and found her garbage bags. “Did you tell the supervisor to change the locks?”

Peter shrugged. “Your mother has enough money to get past him. I suggest you put everything in storage. Take what you need for the race trips and—”

“How much you want for storage?” Amy rummaged in her purse for her checkbook. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

“A hundred a month would do. I come cheaply.”

“Ugh, don’t let any woman hear you say that.” She poked him with a pen. “How’s your love life?”

“How’s yours?” His eyes narrowed into a squint. “Do I detect a chink in your armor?”

“None at all. Purely business. Everything’s business. When you see the videos, you’ll see what a great actress I am.”

“Wonderful. I’m glad,” Peter said. He picked up a tablet and swiped to the entertainment news. “Then this picture of Teo romping with the German
fräuleins
at a beer garden shouldn’t bother you at all.”

* * *

Teo’s exploits didn’t bother Amy as much as a dearth of acting roles, or so she’d convinced herself. Two weeks of readings, auditions, and tryouts brought nothing. What kind of agent was Peter anyway?

Amy reclined her seat on Teo’s private jet. She pulled a black eye mask over her face, stuffed foam earplugs in her ears, and tried to sleep despite the turbulence. She wasn’t in the mood to party with the camera crew and entertainment bloggers on this last leg of the flight to Teo’s race in Germany.

Not that she cared if he painted the town red. After all, that was the entire premise of the show. An ordinary girl tames an incorrigible player. Whatever spark she might have felt that last night in Amsterdam was simply a hormonal imbalance, or indigestion from the Dutch diet rich in beer, cheese, and chocolate—all of which she’d paid for by exercising triple time.

She’d already replaced her Facebook relationship status with “It’s Complicated,” and removed Ronaldo’s name. As long as Silver Studios kept the checks rolling and gave her a recommendation at the end, she was satisfied.

Her sleep was too soon disturbed by the customs officials and immigration agents who boarded as soon as the plane landed. Amy suffered their intrusions in silence, then allowed the limo driver to escort her to the car. Mia, of course, would be waiting.

“Hey, chicki!” Mia clasped her in arms bedecked with stacks of colorful bracelets as she boarded the limo. “Ready for the preliminary interviews? This time, we won’t be having a gala dinner before the time trials. Instead, you and Teo will dine privately and retire early. His trainer is worried about distractions, especially since Ronaldo crashed last time.”

“Fine by me.” Amy faked a yawn to portray disinterest. “I suppose all the gossip of Teo and the blondes are to amp up the drama for the show?”

“Not really.” Mia played with the multitude of rings on her fingers. “This show is taped in advance. We’ll only know at the end of taping whether he should clean up his act and pretend to be your fiancé.”

“Oh, got it. So, even the proposal will be scripted?”

“It’s still a reality show. He doesn’t have to propose. If Ronaldo’s not convinced you’ve captured Teo’s heart, he’ll stage a big blowup.”

“As long as I get my scheduled episodes, it’s fine by me. What was that switcheroo back in Amsterdam about? Was Ronaldo testing me?”

Mia swiveled in the limo and reached for the refrigerator. “I’m not supposed to give you any more hints. Have some wine?”

“Mineral water,” Amy replied. She needed to keep her wits about her. At home, she’d gone over the contract in detail. They could cut her from the show at any moment and she’d forfeit the rest of the payouts. However if she scored the proposal, she’d earn an additional fifty thousand dollars and get to keep the engagement ring. She’d also read everything she could about Teo. For starters, his father just about owned every industry in Greece. He’d had twenty wives, roughly one every two years, although Teo’s mother was not listed on Wikipedia. As for half-brothers and sisters? Teo wasn’t joking. Fourteen brothers and ten sisters officially.

“We’re here.” Mia chirped as the limo pulled up to an imposing stone castle. Bright banners fluttered under the cloudy gray skies fat with clouds threatening rain.

“You think it’ll be another wet race?” Amy shuddered at the thought of the miserable conditions.

She wasn’t looking forward to meeting Teo. He felt like even more of a stranger than before, since he hadn’t texted, called, or contacted her the entire two weeks. Not that he was obligated to. After all, she only existed to act in the reality show.

The interior of the castle was like a medieval museum, but Amy wasn’t in the mood to gawk. She barely noticed the flourishing tapestries, the arches of ancient weapons, and knight’s armor as she followed Mia through the passageway. The bellhops delivered her luggage to her suite, and all she could think about was a hot shower and what mood Teo would be in.

“How do you like your room?” Mia examined the gilded candlestick on an ornate, antique dresser.

A king-sized canopy bed reared above her, complete with richly woven curtains. Plush leather chairs were arranged on a rich burgundy and gold rug in front of a stone fireplace. The dim light came from candlesticks in sconces set at intervals on the cut stone walls. Fortunately, electric desk lamps were provided on the end tables on either side of the bed, and there was a swing arm reading lamp overlooking one of the wingback chairs.

“It’s awesome. Are we filming in here?” Amy stepped toward the bathroom door. Thankfully it had all the modern conveniences: a shower enclosure with double heads and a sitting ledge, two sinks and a toilet besides a bidet.

“There may be some intimate moments,” Mia said as she pulled the drapes back from the wardrobe. “Last session was easy. You got acquainted with our bachelor, learned about motorcycle races, and had a fabulous daytime date around town. This time, you’re supposed to take it to the next level.”

Amy gulped as Mia displayed a series of revealing dresses. One had a laddered midriff so low she’d better shave her pubic hair before wearing it. Mia strutted to the dresser and pulled out black fishnet stockings, blindfolds, and ties.

“Is he really into this stuff?” A chill gripped Amy’s scalp while the lower parts of her body electrified. “There’s nothing in the contract about this.”

“Don’t worry. This is the tease. Of course you’re not going to actually have sex with him. What did you think?” Mia tossed the fishnet stockings at her. “You’re supposed to get him obsessed with the idea of having sex with you so he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend.”

“I thought I was already supposed to pretend to be his girlfriend in public.”

“You are, but he’s still playing around entertaining the paparazzi. If you succeed at getting him enthralled with the idea of having sex with you, and then you deny him …”

“Sure, sure, torture the bastard. Tell him no nookie unless he cleans up his image.”

“Exactly!” Mia’s finger sliced through the air as if she’d scored the knockout point in a political debate. “Make him kowtow to your pussy. Deny him something no woman on earth has ever done.”

“It’ll be easy.” Amy’s blood surged at the challenge. She might have used sex to get things before, but she could also turn it off and use not getting sex to get more.

Mia rubbed her hands. “Ronaldo’s throwing in a five thousand dollar bonus if you succeed, and if you fail, you’re out of the show.”

“How do we know Teo will tell the truth?” Amy put her hands on her hips. “After all, he’s a player. He’ll lie and say he did the deed.”

Mia’s grin widened like the Cheshire Cat’s, her white teeth gleaming. “We can tell. Us Teo watchers know him too well.”

“Teo watcher? You?”

“Stalkers, fan girls. We know everything.” Her smile was too wide to be sincere.

Amy glanced at the rich furnishings and tapestries. “You have hidden cameras? Listening devices?”

“Of course not! How can you be authentic if we did?” Mia huffed as if she were affronted. “Anyway, why don’t you take a shower and get dressed for dinner? Teo will be by in two hours.”