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Authors: Lynn Richards

Seduced by the Italian

BOOK: Seduced by the Italian
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Seduced by the Italian

Copyright 2012

Lynn Richards

Wolf Publishing

 

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

WARNING: This book is int
ended for mature audiences only.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cover art picture courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net at:

Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net


 

I think that was the best one hundred and sixty dollars

we’re ever going to spend!!

Love you always

SEDUCED BY THE ITALIAN

 

Joanna stared at the dress in the w
indow, wishing she had the guts –
and the body –
to wear something like that. The black number had tiny straps that held up a bodice cut in a deep
vee
down to the breastline and a hemline that would probably brush mid-thi
gh. It was bold and daring –
something Joanna had never been.

Catching sight of her reflection in the glass fronted window, she
pushed her blond
e
hair away from her face. It was her best feature, hanging in silky waves to just below her shoulders. Some of her friends had hinted that she should have it cut shorter. One in particular had bluntly told her that at her age, she shouldn’t have long hair.

For Joanna, it was a personal choice. As much as she loved her friend, she disagreed that everyone over forty sho
uld have short hair.

Forty.

She stared at her reflection, noting the small lines around her eyes and mouth that seemed to have appeared overnight. It was hard to believe she was forty years old and divorced. Two things she’d never imagined.

She sighed.

She was forty and frumpy.

Sometimes it felt like only yesterd
ay that she’d graduated law school
an
d started work at the small
firm where she
was now a partner. S
he’d met her husband, Bill, there and he was a partner now as well. The divorce six months ago hadn’t been ugly, but it wasn’t amicable either. How could a woman be amicable
when she’d g
iven the best years of her life to
a man
only to find out he’d been banging his much younger secretary on the very desk she’d bought him when he’d made partner?

S
he’d t
hought they had a good marriage;
that like every marriage
after a time, they had become ‘settled
.

Not that being settled in your marriage was a bad thing. She’d simply allowed him
to
become complacent in their relationship. Bill had actually u
sed the word bored
. And yes, it was partly her fault for going along and not making an issue out of
what she’d like and the way she’d like things to be.

Especially in the bedroom.

In the last year of their marriage, any type of sex life had been non-existent. He gave her
a
quick peck in the
morning on his way out the door –
when she reminded him, of course.
And that was basically it. She thought he was tired, working too hard at work.
Joanna shook her head. She should have seen the writing on the wall much sooner. But she’d buried her head in the
sand.

With a last longing look at the beautiful dress, she moved on down the mall. She’d made the two and half hour drive to Knoxville hoping that the trip would get her out of the doldrums she’d been in since the divorce. It wasn’t that she was still pining after Bill. Truth be told, she’d begun to wonder in the last couple of months if their love hadn’t died a long time ago. That maybe she’d just stayed because it was so comfortable. She’d never been one for change, liking things pre-arranged, neat
,
and orderly.

Maybe Bill had been right. She was boring.

“Miss?
Excuse
me,
miss?”

Joanna stopped and looked back. A beautiful young man, no more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine was striding toward her, a
wide
smile on his handsome face. He was tall and slender, well-built, with dark skin and eyes. His manner w
as both hesitant and practiced.

“Can I show you something?”

Joanna hesitated, looking around her. Maybe he was talking to someone else.

“Please?” He beckoned for her to follow him.


You wa
nt to show me something?” She
wasn’t sure why she followed him. Maybe it was the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous with his swarthy skin and flashing white smile. Or maybe it was his accent. She wasn’t quite sure about his nationality but his voice was deep and melodic, the accent so thick that she found herself
leaning toward him as he spoke.

She allowed him to take her hand and seat her on a high stool at one of the salon stations situated in that part of the mall. A small mirror sat on a table in front of her along with various styling products. He released her hand and Joanna immediately missed the warmth of his touch. It was wrong to be so drawn to a stranger, especially one
almost
young enough to be her…well, jus
t too incredibly young for her.

He leaned over her, tunneling his fingers through her thick tresses. He smelled amazing, t
he clean masculine scent played
havoc with her
already over-stimulated senses.

“My name is Marco. And you are?”

“Joanna.”

“You have beautiful hair, Joanna.”

“Thank you.” The feel of his hands on her scalp was doing strange things to her entire body. She fel
t flushed, her skin sensitized.

Oh no! She remembered this feeling. She had to dig back a few years, but she recognized it. She was turned on by the young stud pressing himself against her back.

Was he doing it de
liberately?

He moved back slightly and Joanna wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.

The look in his velvet brown eyes as his gaze locked with hers in the mirror said he knew ex
actly what he was doing to her.
She told herself it was just a tactic used by a guy who knew he was sexy

a
nd used it to his advantage. He probably did
the same thing to
every woman he wooed into this chair.

Still, the feel of his broad chest against her back
had
sent a flutter to her mid-section and beyond.

Flushing, she tried to concentrate on his words and not on the incredible hotness of his young, well-toned body. She couldn’t believe she was salivating over him. Had her hormones suddenly awakened and decided to go on a rampage?

“How often do you have it colored?”

“Excuse me?” She missed that last word.

He grinned, showing even white teeth behind his perfectly chiseled lips. “I am sorry
, Joanna
. You will forgive my accent. I know it is bad
and my American is not so good
. But I am half Israeli and half Italian.”
He shrugged as though that was that.

He dipped his head apologetically and Joanna found herself wanting to assure him that it was okay. Really, really, okay.
Her eyes traced down his body.

I bet his dick is a monster. And I bet he really knows how to use it
.

She couldn’t look at him. She had no idea where that thought came from. But now that it had flickered through her brain, she couldn’t get it out. What would it be like to be fucked by this young stud? He could probably go at it all night long without tiring. Her pussy tingled, the sudden wetness between her thighs letting her know
that
she was not so old after all.

“My words a
re hard to understand, I know.”

“It’s…not bad at all.”

And neither are you.

She’d bet more than one woman had been seduced by that voice alone.

“You are too
nice.” The chocolate brown gaze
latched onto hers and, as impossible as it seemed, she would swear that sparkling gleam was desire. For a moment, the rest of the mall faded as he stared at her intently.

“I, um, have my hair colored when I think about it.” She broke the sizzling contact and plucked a strand off her shoulder. “I don’t
really
follow a set schedule.”

He moved from behind her and Joann
a felt the absence of his heat.

“Where are you from?” She was dying to know.

He took a moment to plug in a flat
iron and set out two bottles –
one shampoo and the other conditioner.

“I am from San Diego. My company moved me here last year to take over this entire region
.” He picked up the
heated flat
iron.
“Let me show you how easy this product is to use.” Taking a strand of her hair he began at the
center
part of her hair and worked downward, curling the length around
the flat iron as he slid it with practiced ease
through her hair. The finished result
was a
shiny, bouncy curl. Using those talented fingers, he divided the thick lock of hair into
two curls.

Her straight hair
never held curl no matter how hard she tried. Joanna turned her head, admiring the way the hair moved. “That’s amazing.”


The product heats on both inside and out so that y
ou can do all of your hair in about twenty minutes.
There is no damage to the hair a
nd the curl will last until you wash it out.”

“I don’t normally do a lot to my hair. It’s pretty much wash, dry, and go.”

It was all a sales pitch, Joanna knew. He was selling something he wanted her to buy. Of course he was going to use his sex appeal to sell. She shouldn’t feel so let down. Besides, he was still good to look at.

“With this product, it won’t take much time at all.” He opened a drawer and pointed to two
product
covers, one pink and one purple. “I am not
supposed to show you these –
they a
re for the
employees

but if you purchase one of these irons today, I will throw in the bag and the shampoo and conditioner for free.”

Joanna considered the cu
rls again. Someday she might decide
to do something different.

But probably not.

“How much is it?”

Inclining his dark head so that it was mere inches from hers, he whispered
, “I am not supposed to do this either – I am actually losing money –
but I will let you have all of this, plus I will give you a certificate for free
hair
styling
for one year
, all
for the tota
l price of ninety-nine dollars.”

While she considered the offer, he picked up the styling iron and straightened the curls, com
bing the sleek hair into place.

It really was a fantastic tool.

She’d really
like to see his fantastic tool.

“Okay, I’ll take it.”

He grinned that sexy grin. “What color would you like?”

BOOK: Seduced by the Italian
4.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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