Pierce
Pierce snooped around the house, his fingers running over the pieces of expensive furnishings. Although he was pretty sure that Felice would be coming back soon to give him the money she had promised, he still had this uncontrollable urge to check the house for valuables. It was like the pull of other people’s wealth was nearly unstoppable; it filled every inch of his veins with the desire to steal, to stuff any of these expensive things in his pockets and run off with them.
“But you won’t need it; Felice will bring you the money back. No problem.” His palms started to sweat a little at the thought of just grabbing something on his way out. Something small, a souvenir. Something she wouldn’t miss. Not until he was long gone.
His prowling brought him into her bedroom, searching the room for a jewelry box or safe or something that might have held any pricey jewelry or other heirlooms.
Other than a few spare pieces of clothing tossed about, her room was just as clean as the rest of the house. Everything in here was white and silver, all of the surfaces glittering and dustless. Her comforter looked like it was made out of some sort of solid white animal. The sheets were in complete disarray, as if she tossed and turned in her sleep as much as Pierce hadn’t. “Perhaps she really missed that prick that cheated on her, though I can’t imagine she’ll be lonely for much long with a body like that.”
Pierce was on his way to the dresser when he noticed something lacy on the floor. He glanced down at it, his body instantly reacting to the sight. This was the lingerie she was wearing last night. While we took those pictures. He could remember every detail of that fifteen minutes she’d been in his room with him, rutting up against him like a porn star. He’d found himself painfully aroused after her photo session finished up.
“She is one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen,” he thought, wistfully, his eyes locked on the silky underthings still gripped between his fingers.
“I wonder what it would like to have her, if only just once.” He imagined that, unlike most selfish and pretty women, this one enjoyed sex, enjoyed watching her partners have just as much fun as she did. Felice seemed like the type of person who was willing to experiment, too. “She’d be a lot of fun to tie to those silver bedposts.”
Before his thoughts got so dark and dirty that he did something foolish, Pierce heard a sound from downstairs that sounded like doors slamming.
Two female voices argued back and forth, one loud and demanding, the other quieter and reserved, but still managing to sound mad. They continued to argue as Pierce slipped out of Felice’s room and to the stairs, hoping the two women didn’t realize where he was coming from. He didn’t have a ready excuse for being in Felice’s bedroom, and he didn’t think he’d be able to lie smoothly enough to get through an interrogation about it. Best to keep relations as good with Felice as possible until he was well out of the States.
Jogging down the stairs, Pierce came face to face with two pairs of twin, shining emerald eyes, both alight with anger. Felice was standing across the kitchen from the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed over her perfect breasts. She was pouting, her bottom lip pushed out from her mouth like a child not getting her way in a candy store. Pierce blinked, eyes sliding between her and the other woman who could have been a carbon copy of Felice from 20 years in the future.
Eyes flicking between them, Pierce slid closer to Felice. He crossed his arms in a protective sort of stance as the two women studied him. Felice looked away from him, her face twisting with some sort of emotion he couldn’t describe. She didn’t look happy. The older woman, most likely Felice’s mother, was wearing a wickedly happy expression that Pierce didn’t like the look of at all.
“I am Felice’s mother, Dolores Domiano,” the blonde woman said, her voice tinted with a slightly Hispanic-sounding accent. Well, this was near enough to the border that the accent would be pretty normal. But not normally found on the tongues of natural blondes with green eyes. “I have a proposition for you, my boy. One I think you’ll have a tough time turning down.”
Digging in her purse, Dolores pulled all the cash she could find out of the nooks and crannies, piling every bill she found onto the kitchen table between them. After a few seconds of staring at the stack of money she’d made, she frowned at it. “About five thousand bucks there. More on the way if you agree, boy.”
“Agree to what?” Pierce asked, standing up a little straighter. “These people throw around money like they have no idea what it’s worth.”
“You will play bodyguard and boyfriend to my daughter here,” she pointed a manicured nail at Felice, running her tongue over her Botox-swollen lips. “Once you make that idiot boyfriend of hers jealous enough to come crawling back on his hands and knees, you’ll be paid in full to disappear. Leaving my daughter with Clay.”
It was pretty obvious that Felice was used to Dolores controlling every aspect of her life. She didn’t even turn to look at him when Pierce tried to catch her eye.
After a second, Pierce cleared his throat. “Is this what you want, Felice?”
Blinking surprise, Felice looked at him, her face pale as a ghost under her tan. Then she shrugged, her face impassive.
Dolores started talking figures, the numbers steadily getting higher if he was successful. “You’ll end up a wealthy man by the end, if you do your job right.”
Without looking back at Felice, Pierce stared at the money on the counter, trying to figure out how he could stay with a public figure like Felice and still keep the low profile he’d need to not end up in jail for the rest of his life.
“And there’s the other thing,” a part of him whispered from the depths of his soul. “That Clay asshole doesn’t deserve to lick Felice’s boots.” Knowing this whole idea to be a mistake, Pierce stared down the matron of the Domiano household, trying to figure out a way to get out of this.
# # #
Felice
Felice, already feeling deflated, had the rest of her hopes dashed when she pulled up to her house to see her mother’s car in the driveway. She pulled the Porsche into the garage, bracing herself for the unavoidable fight that was about to happen.
Felice’s mother looked much like Felice plus twenty years. “Or like I will if I marry someone I hate and become bitter and controlling.”
Like if Felice married Clay. She winced at that thought.
“Oh crap, I don't want to end up like my mom.”
“So let me get this straight,” Dolores Domiano, the matron of house Domiano and one of the most controlling people in the world, said without even a greeting. “You find the wealthiest, best-looking, most camera-ready, and most stable boys in the state to date, and then you dumped him for fucking Jenn? Are you an idiot, girl? Of course he’s going to sleep around; that’s what rich men do.”
Felice sighed, taking her coffee and the packet with Pierce’s money out of her car. She didn’t bother interrupting; once Dolores got started, nothing would shut her up until she was done ranting.
“His little cheating doesn’t undo his great career or how good he would be on the show. And don’t you dare roll your eyes at me, Kitten. You know you won’t find anyone better than he is for you.”
“I already have,” Felice said calmly, turning away from her mother.
Dolores paused in her speech, sputtering. Felice found a little joy in her flabbergasted expression. Her mom wasn’t used to be interrupted, and Felice had just contradicted her and interrupted with three little words. Dolores looked unhappy, then livid. “Don’t you walk away from me; I’m not done speaking to you!”
Taking a deep breath, Felice turned back to her mother. “Could we not fight on the front lawn, hmm?”
“Who is this other guy?”
“Pierce. He’s an aspiring actor.”
Dolores laughed right in her face, making Felice want to run away. But she forced her feet to hold still and take it, not letting Dolores know how much her laughter was making Felice crazy. “You need Clay back for the next season of the show. He’s going to be a big part of next season! Beside, this fake boyfriend you have is probably not even a real person, is he? You’re going to need more than a rumor to make your man jealous enough to want you back.”
Felice narrowed her eyes. “Matt told you. About our bet.”
“Of course he did; you and your brother and your stupid bets. You two should know how much this affecting the family, and our show!” Dolores started up with the dramatics. Felice turned away and started walking toward the house before the waterworks could start up. “I’ll give you the money you’ll lose to your brother if you start acting like a grown up and just take Clay back already.”
“I won’t lose to Matt!” Felice snapped, knowing how childish she sounded. She didn’t even care, either. What was it about her mom that brought out the worst in her?
Dolores rolled her pretty green eyes, flapping her hands around like a bird trying to take off. “Oh, would you think about someone else beside yourself for a second,” she said, slamming the door behind herself. “You know your brother made that same bet with Clay as he did with you?”
Felice was livid, her emerald eyes nearly glowing from fury. “He what?”
“Oh yes,” Dolores said, her voice wickedly happy. She seemed to find more joy than usual this morning in making her daughter as miserable as possible. “So, where is this fake boyfriend?”
Felice felt all of her anger leave her like a balloon being deflated. There was no point in staying mad at her mom; it only made Dolores happy and Felice miserable. “Fine, he’s not actually my boyfriend,” she admitted, not happy about it. “Pierce is just some guy I met yesterday. I was going to use him to make Clay jealous.” Felice scooted across the kitchen, unconsciously putting the counter between her and her mother.
Dolores’ eyes narrowed. “He’ll need a better back story than aspiring artist.” She tapped a manicured nail against her Botox lips, her eyes crawling across the ceiling as she thought through it. “If he’s beefy enough, we can tell people he’s a bodyguard.”
“He’s beefy enough,” Felice said, shivering to remember that muscled body pressed against her own.
“Then you two can fall in lust and get together. Some public appearances with super-alpha hunky bodyguard boyfriend will be just the thing to make Clay come crawling back. Then we’ll both be happy, right?” She looked over Felice with icy green eyes, not a lick of emotion in either one, except maybe exasperation at her daughter.
“But I don’t want to be with Clay.” She still loved him, as much as she hated to admit that, even to herself. But that didn’t change what he did. That didn’t change how slimy he was about the whole thing, with the fake name and picking up girls like he was single. How many times had he done it before? She chewed on her thumbnail. But Mrs. Dolores had spoken, so Felice would have no choice but to go along.
She always went along with whatever her mother wanted.
Pierce came down the stairs just then, a panther on the prowl. Much to Felice’s surprise, he came to stand close to her without a word, crossing his arms like he was gearing up to protect her. Interesting. Maybe this bodyguard thing will work.
She didn’t hear a word they said to one another. In fact, she forced herself to ignore the whole thing, turning her face away. Feeling like a ball of lead was forming in her belly, Felice set her coffee down on the counter. Suddenly, she didn’t want it.
Pierce turned to face her, his pretty, deep-set eyes catching hers. There was some emotion twisting up his mouth that she couldn’t quite read, but he looked unhappy. “Is this what you want, Felice?” he asked, sending shivers down to her toes.
“What a question! No one ever cares what I want.” Her heart squeezed a little in her chest. Unable to form an answer, she kept her mouth shut and shrugged instead. She turned away her face again, forcing herself to block out both of their voices as they continued to speak.