Temptation's Song (Kimani Romance) Page 8

  It was so intense that, as he was kissing her, he found that the longer their mouths were locked in the act the more he wanted. He could go on kissing her and never get enough.

  Damn! Elle thought. Why did it have to be this good? I’m doomed!

  Their bodies pressed closer still and Elle suddenly felt his erection on her thigh. This might have made her come to her senses in the past, but now it only made her wetter and moan with pleasure.

  Dominic gently broke off the kiss and murmured, “Cara mia, I want you so much but I can’t. It would be wrong.”

  For once in his life, Dominic Corelli was putting the brakes on seduction.

  “What’re you saying?” asked Elle, confused. She looked at him with eyes made drowsy by longing, her hand on his chest. Dominic removed her hand and stepped backward.

  “You don’t know the opera world in Milan, Elle. If anyone found out we were lovers you would be vilified in the press. Oh, they would think the man was only acting on his macho tendencies, but you would be labeled a tart, an opportunist, or much worse.” He looked at her with regret. “I should have known better than to act on my feelings for you. But I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, and I’ve burned for you ever since. I was weak, I’m sorry.”

  Elle put some distance between them and turned to face him. “So, what does that mean? We will work together but avoid touching each other? We will see each other every day but be forbidden to think of how much we want each other? Is that it? I’m supposed to be strong?”

  “For the time being,” he said, his voice hoarse. He was not feeling very strong at the moment. Every part of him wanted Elle back in his arms.

  “I don’t think I can do it!” Elle burst out, frustrated.

  “It’s for you that I suggest this, Elle. This is your chance to be recognized as the phenomenal singer you are. We can’t do anything that would get in the way of that.”

  Elle stared at him a moment in disbelief, then she grabbed her backpack and fled.

  “Elle!” Dominic shouted in anguish. He followed. “Please don’t go like this.”

  When she reached the stairs, Elle turned back around. Her face was tear stained, but when she looked at him it was with sober eyes. “I understand one thing, Dominic Corelli—this is simply more proof for you that love would get in the way of your work. In the future I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t play with my emotions!”

  Dominic wanted to tell her he was not playing with her emotions, that he really was looking out for her best interests. But this would work out well for him. If she was angry with him throughout rehearsals and the production of Temptation, then there would be no chance of them being caught in a compromising situation.

  After the opera debuted, he would confess everything. But for now, let her be angry with him.

  Looking contrite, he said, “It’ll never happen again.”

  “Good,” she told him, feeling justified in her anger. “Then we understand each other.”

  She turned and hurried down the stairs.

  He let her go. The ache in his heart returned.

  Chapter 8

  It took Dominic exactly seven seconds after Elle had departed to realize what she had said: she had stated that he thought falling in love would adversely affect his work. How had she known he felt that way? He couldn’t recall ever telling her that. In fact, he was positive he hadn’t.

  As he walked back to the balcony box to retrieve his briefcase, he racked his brain trying to come up with a reasonable explanation of how Elle had found out about that.

  By the time he had grabbed his briefcase and was heading down the stairs toward the exit, he’d come up with only one answer: one of the women had told her yesterday at lunch in his parents’ villa.

  He reached into his inside coat pocket and got his cell phone. He took a cleansing breath before dialing his mother’s number. If anyone would know, she would. She kept her eyes and ears open.

  Natalie answered on the second ring. She never kept her children waiting, thinking it might be an emergency, since none of them was the type of caller who phoned simply to pass the time of day. When they called, it was for a specific reason.

  “Dominic, what is it?” she asked, her tone concerned.

  Dominic didn’t want to go into the fact that he’d just kissed Elle and she’d blown up at him and accused him of playing with her affections. That subject was too personal to discuss with his mother. Instead he said, “Calm down, Momma. I haven’t been in an accident or anything. I was just calling to ask you what you thought of my new leading lady. What are your impressions? Did she get along with you and the girls? You all looked fairly comfortable with each other.”

  “What’s the matter?” his mother asked, instantly suspicious.

  “Nothing’s the matter. I just wondered what you thought of Elle.”

  “I’m your mother. I know when you’re lying, which, by the way, you’ve never been very good at. Sophia takes the prize for that. She can lie to you and look you straight in the eyes without blinking. If she were ever a spy, the enemy would never get any useful information out of her. You and Ana, on the other hand, are terrible liars. I like Elle. We all do.”

  Now Dominic understood. “How much do you like her?” he asked. “Enough to do a little matchmaking behind my back?” That was it, he decided. His mother, his sisters and Francesca had all talked him up to Elle yesterday. Because they were women and women stuck together, they had felt obligated to warn Elle about his drawbacks and faults. Women were always trying to fix a man, make him a better person through their gentle influence. Yes, they would want Elle to know that he was convinced love would get in the way of his career. Then she would be armed with knowledge and could plan her approach with more effectiveness. Women were wonderful strategists. Generals commanding armies all over the world could use them on the front lines.

  Natalie laughed softly. “Is that what you think? I stopped trying to fix you up years ago, Dominic. As for Sophia, Ana and Francesca, they have more important things to do than to try to get you to do something you have no interest in whatsoever! Like I said, we like Elle. We wouldn’t want her to get involved with a man who won’t return her affection. That means you, my darling son.”

  That hurt a little, but it was also a relief to hear.

  “In fact,” his mother continued, “if I’m not mistaken, Sophia brought up your belief that work and love and family don’t mix. She and Ana got into some asinine argument about composers who were married and still managed to produce beautiful music, as opposed to Beethoven, who never married.”

  Dominic was standing on the street in front of La Scala at that point. He looked up at the cerulean sky and wished that the ground would swallow him up. His own family had stabbed him in the back and they weren’t even aware of it. Elle truly believed that she meant nothing to him and he’d only used her as a convenience. But it isn’t as if we made love, he told himself. It was just a kiss. Even as he thought it, he wasn’t convinced. That hadn’t been just a kiss. It had been the most wonderful kiss in the world.

  “Momma,” he said into the phone’s receiver, “I’ve got to go.”

  Natalie knew by the tightness in his voice that he was upset. “Oh, no, did we inadvertently say something we shouldn’t have? I’m sorry if we did. We were just talking.”

  Dominic sighed tiredly. “You didn’t do anything. It was Sophia. She’s always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help,” Natalie suggested worriedly.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Dominic told her. “I’ve got to talk to Sophia. Ciao.”

  He hung up before his mother could protest.

  Raising an arm, he hailed a cab. Since Elle had said she wouldn’t be riding to the theater with him that morning he had left the car at home and taken a cab here. It was sometimes hard to find a parking space in this area.

  Once in the back of the cab he gave the dr
iver the address of the Corelli industrial park. The huge business was housed in several buildings on a lot, with administrative offices, the manufacturing site and the largest structure, a warehouse for storage and shipping.

  Dominic had spent his summers learning the business. But finally, when he was twenty-one, his father had accepted that his calling was music and began grooming Sophia to take over their garment enterprise when he retired.

  Dominic directed the driver to the administrative offices. With a grim set to his jaw he paid the cabdriver and got out.

  Sophia’s office was near the front of the building. She had the door open and was sitting behind her desk, the phone to her ear, when he walked in. She smiled at him and pointed to a chair in front of her desk, inviting him to sit and wait while she finished her business call.

  Dominic was too wound up to sit. He paced the room. Then he heard her say, “I love you, too!” and he knew she was not talking with a client, but Matteo.

  Dominic grabbed the phone and spoke into the receiver. “Hello, Matteo, this is Dominic. She’ll call you back!”

  He slammed the phone down so hard he nearly broke it.

  Sophia, mouth open in shock, sprang out of her chair. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me that you can’t fix, obviously!” Dominic yelled, glaring at her. He had the presence of mind to close the door. His sister looked at the door then back at him as if wondering if she could make it past him to leave without him grabbing her. He figured he must look like a madman to her, but he didn’t care.

  She stared at him with an scornful expression on her face. “I repeat, what’s wrong with you? Why’re you acting like a crazy man?”

  “You told Elle I wasn’t interested in love, that I avoided it like the plague!”

  “Well, did I lie?” Sophia defiantly asked. She sat back down and calmly put her boot-clad feet up on the desk. She was wearing a pinstripe pantsuit and white silk blouse. All that was missing from her masculine attire was a tie.

  Dominic continued to pace. “This is exactly why Matteo won’t marry you—you’re too bossy. You think you know what’s best for everybody. Surely you didn’t think your talk with Elle would do anybody any good.”

  “Certainly not you,” said Sophia, her dark eyes looking straight into his. “What happened, Dominic? Did you make love to her and realize she means more to you than you thought, and panic? You would panic because you don’t want to face the truth—your theory of avoiding love is preposterous! Not only do you want it, you need it. Love inspires, it doesn’t destroy.” She took a deep breath. “And as for the reason Matteo won’t marry me, it’s because he’s too pigheaded to realize that it doesn’t matter if the woman brings in more money or the man does. It’s the quality of the love in the relationship that counts. He’ll get that one day and then he’ll marry me. You’ll see.”

  “You shouldn’t have done it,” Dominic reiterated. “Now Elle thinks I used her.”

  “Didn’t you?” Sophia asked, relentless.

  “We didn’t make love,” Dominic told her. “We only kissed and then I realized that I shouldn’t have even done that. She’s in a vulnerable position. A new singer on the cusp of stardom. The least bit of scandal could ruin her. Yes, I wanted to pursue a relationship with her but it would be bad for her right now. That’s what I tried to tell her, but she had been fed your rhetoric and didn’t want to listen to what I had to say.”

  Sophia stood up, regret evident in her expression. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Dominic. I truly didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just saw the way she was looking at you and I knew she was heading for heartbreak. I was trying to save her the pain. Now look what I’ve done!”

  Tears pooled in her dark eyes and Dominic looked on helplessly. He’d never been able to watch his sisters cry without offering a shoulder to cry on. His anger dissipated at the sight of her watery eyes. He pulled her into his arms.

  “Come now, you’re a big, tough businesswoman. Cut that out!”

  Sophia laughed and pushed back to look up into his eyes. “I’m not as tough as I pretend to be.” She sniffed. “So, are you falling in love with Elle?”

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Obviously not!” his sister said with a short laugh.

  “Then you’re just going to have to wait and see, like the rest of us.” He kissed her forehead and let go of her. Turning away, he said, “I’ve got to go. Shall we schedule another fight for next week?”

  “Same time, same place?” Sophia asked softly. She was smiling now, and wiping the tears away with a tissue from the dispenser on her desk.

  “I’ll be here,” said Dominic.

  After Dominic had gone, Sophia plopped down in her chair. Her brother was falling in love, she was sure of it! She had to tell somebody. She dialed Ana’s cell phone number. At this moment her sister was en route to New York City. She had left her apartment key with Sophia and told her to give it to Elle. But before she would do that, she would go to the apartment and make sure it was clean. Ana was notoriously messy, even with maid service twice a week.

  Elle was so upset after her argument with Dominic that she went straight back to her hotel suite and threw herself onto the sofa in the living room, where she alternated between crying jags and spouting angry invectives against him.

  She had to talk to someone or drive herself crazy!

  She dialed her mother’s number. As the phone rang she wondered what time it was in New York. She thought there was either a five-hour or six-hour difference; she couldn’t remember. At any rate, it would be early in the morning in Harlem, which was good because Isobel got up early for work. She was at work by eight, even though she wasn’t required to be in her office until nine.

  Isobel Jones answered immediately. “Elle, baby girl, how are you?”

  Elle sucked in a strangled breath and immediately wished she had calmed down before phoning her mother.

  “I’m fine, I’m just fine. Don’t let the sound of my voice make you think otherwise,” she began.

  “You’ve been crying!” Isobel said, sounding upset by the realization.

  “Yes, and I feel like a fool for letting myself get so upset. You know me. I don’t usually dissolve into tears at the drop of a hat. What time is it there? I don’t want you to miss the train.”

  “It’s only seven-ten, I’ve got plenty of time,” said her mother. “Tell me what made you cry. Now, Elle, and I don’t want any foolishness like your trying to protect me from the truth. Spill it!”

  “I kissed my boss,” Elle said regretfully. “I mean, we kissed. It’s not like I threw myself at him or anything.”

  “You told me you were attracted to him. I looked him up on the Internet. I can see why. He’s very handsome. Are you sure he’s not married? I don’t know much about Italian men, but Louise says that back in the day Italian men used to reserve Sunday afternoons for their mistresses. You don’t want to be a mistress, baby.”

  Elle smiled and instantly felt better. Isobel’s plain way of speaking always had a calming effect on her. Growing up, she had always called her mother by her first name because that’s the way Isobel had wanted it. She felt she was too young to be called Momma and over the years Elle had begun referring to her grandmother, Ella, as Mom. It was as if her grandparents were her parents and Isobel was her older sister. With only eighteen years separating them and Isobel still trying to find her place in the world, it had seemed like a good idea to put her trust in the real grown-ups. She still called Isobel by her first name, except on occasions when she let an affectionate Ma slip out.

  Their relationship was that of mother and daughter, though. Isobel had never shirked her duties as a mother, always doing homework with Elle, going to all of her school plays and recitals. She’d been there for every milestone of Elle’s childhood, unlike Elle’s father, whose identity she knew but whom she had never met.

  “It’s like this,” Elle said.

  She told Isobel about he
r visit to Dominic’s parents’ villa and the conversation with the women on the patio. Then she told her about the kiss and her heated argument with Dominic, not leaving anything out. Not even his love-is-bad-for-you theory.

  “That’s a lot of bull,” Isobel said about his theory. “And I can see why you said what you did to him, baby, but let’s be realistic. Even though he might have been telling everybody that for years as a way to explain why he’s never been in a serious relationship, that doesn’t mean he believes it. We never know what’s really in a person’s heart. Not even your own family knows what truly makes you tick. Am I right?”

  Elle admitted that she was.

  Isobel took a deep breath and continued. “That’s why you shouldn’t have taken what his sister told you about him as gospel. Take it from me, a lot of men hide behind that excuse. Your biological father did. He was going to be a big football star and couldn’t be saddled with a wife and baby. Did he do it? Who knows and who cares? The point is he used an excuse to get out of his responsibilities. Maybe Dominic Corelli is a confirmed bachelor or maybe he isn’t. That’s neither here nor there. What is it you’re supposed to be doing over there in Italy, baby?”

  “Keeping my eyes on the prize!” Elle said with conviction.

  “That’s right. That kiss, like he said, could have led to your downfall. He knows the opera climate over there better than you do. What you need to concentrate on is doing a good job and avoiding him, Elle. No more kisses. If you can’t resist him, don’t be alone with him! How many times have I sat and listened to you complain about being in the chorus and not ever being given the chance to sing a solo in an opera? Too many times! Well, here’s your chance. You can’t blow it over a kiss. No matter how good it was. Got me?”