Eternally Seduced (17 page)

          Oh.

          It wasn’t Constantijin.

          It was Mr. Fix It.

          He helped me up slowly and I tried not to notice how his hands held my waist just a little bit longer than he should. “Third time now, Yanna,” he said with a grin.

          Now that I was back in my feet, I could properly appreciate his looks, and I had to admit that he cleaned up quite nicely in formal attire. White tuxes were hard to carry off for most men, but on Drake – he simply looked like an angel with a naughty sense of humor.

          Especially with the way he was looking at me.

          Blushing, I stammered, “I know. I’m so sorry.”

          Drake laughed. “I was just kidding, Yanna. I have no complaints about being your knight in shining armor anytime.” He hesitated then, his voice lowering a notch, “You look utterly desirable.”

          “Umm, thanks. Y-you look good tonight, too.”

          “Only tonight?”

          I was horrified. “I didn’t mean---” Then I saw the laughter in his gaze and groaned. “You’re mean!”

          “And I just wanted you to laugh because I think you’re nervous for no reason.” He gave me a megawatt smile that I was very sure would make my heart skip a beat if it wasn’t still in the emergency room, receiving treatment for post-traumatic shock, thanks to overexposure to unfaithful Dutch playboy billionaires.

          Drake bent close. I reared back, but it was too late.

          He pressed a kiss on my forehead.

          When he pulled away, I was gaping.

          “Your good luck kiss,” he said with a wink before walking away.

          More than a little confused, I absently touched my forehead as I climbed the stage, wondering if maybe – maybe I had been right all this time. Maybe Drake was the one for me and Constantijin Kastein was just the Devil’s best attempt to seduce me from my happily-ever-after romance.

          The limelight swung immediately toward me as I reached the middle of the stage. I automatically beamed at the crowd. “Welcome to the 60
^th
birthday of our beloved Chairman of the board, Mrs. Margaret Kastein. On behalf of the Kastein family, I would like to thank you all for coming.”

          Although I had my script in hand, I barely glanced at it, knowing I was better off improvising and keeping eye contact with my audience. I had never been a limelight-hogger, but that didn’t mean I sucked at stage presentations – or, in this case, hosting jobs. Most times, I was actually good at it since my public speaking skills had been honed at an early age, with both my parents constantly volunteering me to act as host for every company party they threw.

          Later, I was hosting a game that had Arian as one of the contestants. She, too, looked smashing – especially with her headlights fully on. The moment I saw Arian’s nipple alert, I immediately searched for George in the crowd. Our eyes met – and then we were grinning.

          You had to hand it to Arian, really. It took guts to show up like that on stage just so she could seduce Constan---I mean, our CEO. I
had
to start thinking of him impersonally now.

          Two hours later, I dished out my last speech for the night, declaring the end of the “official” event, which meant the time to dance and go wild would now officially begin.

          “Thank you!” I blew them a goodbye kiss and the crowd went wild, with one guy from Marketing actually letting out a loud whoop as he jumped high, pretending to catch my air kiss.

          Laughter and applause still rang clearly in the background as I descended the stage. George was waiting for me, grinning, and we exchanged hugs.

          “My hands are still shaking,” I confessed.

          George rolled his eyes. “You were fantastic up there!”

          We looked at each other and then we started jumping like crazy. God! That had been hard, hosting a party for a Fortune 500 corporation with over a thousand employees from all levels attending.

          “
Ahem
.”

          Still clasping each other’s hands, we turned towards the sound.

          Oh my God, it was Constantijin with his
mother
.

          George and I quickly released each other, faces flaming.

"My mother wanted to congratulate the host for a job well done," Constantijin said, his eyes on me while my eyes were on – anywhere but him. Even so, I couldn’t help stealing a peek at his looks.

          Bad mistake.

          He was, like, too hot to be true.

          And I was, like, too wet to be true right now.

          Constantijin’s hair was brushed up in a slick style. It should have made him look totally sleazy and old, but no, darn it, he just looked nobler – like a freaking European prince.      He was all Old World glamour, and his blazer even had coattails, its beautiful cut emphasizing the impressive width of his shoulders and his height.

“Mom, this is the woman I’ve been telling you about – Yanna – and her friend George. They are both new executives in our marketing department.”

I could feel Constantijin willing me to look at him, but I resisted the magnetic pull of his gaze. I hated how even after everything that he had done, I still felt drawn to him, a moth addicted to getting burnt time and time again.

“George, Yanna, may I present to you my mother, Margaret Kastein?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Kastein,” George and I murmured in unison.

Constantijin’s mother was beautiful, an older and feminine version of him in fact. She had a stately air about her, her age only adding a timeless quality to her beauty. There was speculation in her bright blue eyes when she turned to me after speaking with George.

George suddenly craned his neck. “Oh, I think my friend just arrived. Excuse me.” He disappeared not an instant later, the traitor.

"You really did well there, my dear," Margaret – or Marge as she prettily asked us to call her - said with a warm smile. She was quite petite, and her stole, made of snowy-white faux fur, which matched her black figure-hugging gown, made her look even smaller. But when she looked at me, I knew right away this woman was the type to have no problems at all wearing the pants in the family.

          And since she
was
our Chairman, she probably did.

          Realizing that she was waiting for an answer, I stammered, “I’m just honored Charli thought I could handle the job.”

Before I knew it, she had taken my arm and we were strolling toward the outer edges of the party, away from the crowd. Constantijin followed behind us, lagging a few steps, and I did my best to ignore the way he continued staring at me.

“You were a natural on stage.”

          “Umm, t-thanks.”

          I had a feeling we were walking aimlessly, but who was I to say that? For a moment, I wondered if this was a prelude to a pay raise. She could be, like, so impressed with my hosting duties that she was adding a zero to my salary, never mind if hosting had nothing to do with marketing research.

          But then I realized that if she did promote me or give me a pay hike, it could very well be due to Constantijin. What if he felt guilty and thought this was a way to say sorry?

          Disappointment made my shoulders droop a little.

          “Is something wrong?”

          God, she was intuitive. Forcing a smile, I said, “I’m just giddy. And relieved that I survived hosting your birthday.” I froze then added in a rush, “Oh my God, I’m sorry I forgot to greet you again. Happy birthday, Mrs. Kastein.”

          “It’s okay and Marge, please.” Her eyes twinkled. “But you can call also call me ‘Mom’ if you want.”

          My jaw dropped.

          She let out a laugh, which sounded too gusty for someone who looked so refined. Without even looking over her shoulder, she told her son, “Leave us for a while, my dear. I will call you when I am done.”

          “Mother,” I heard Constantijin say from behind in a warning tone.

          Marge’s voice became steely. “Leave.”

          I twisted my head around and was stunned to see Constantijin actually leaving. Yes, that made it official then. Marge was definitely the boss in their family. When I looked back, Marge was smiling prettily again. But this time, I was so not fooled.

          “Ma’am?” I asked very respectfully.

          She beamed. “Oh, darling, you have no reason to be afraid of little ole me.”

          I silently begged to differ.

          “You and my son are at odds with each other, yes?”

          Who knew Constantijin would be such a tattletale?

          Coughing, I said vaguely, “Umm…”

          She smirked.

          Oh my God, so this was where Constantijin inherited his smirking ways!

          “Dear,” she sighed, “there is something I have to tell you about my son.”

          Something in her tone made me stiffen.

          “He’s an ass. I love him, he’s my son, but he’s an ass.”

         
Okaaaaay
. Totally did not see that coming, but hey, if she wanted to call Constantijin the A-word, then I didn’t have any problem with that.

          She sighed again. “It’s my fault, really.” She glanced around, her eyes looking for Constantijin. He stood opposite us at the other end of the ballroom, a glass of some dark-colored liquor in his hands. When he saw us looking at him, his head cocked to the side, askance, one eyebrow lifting.

          “Maybe someday, when you are with him longer, I’ll tell you why. I probably have to, one way or another.”

          Her words were so cryptic I couldn’t help wondering what she and Constantijin seemed to be hiding from the whole world. Margaret suddenly lifted her hand and waved.

          In a few seconds, Constantijin was at our side and Margaret was telling him to take me to the dance floor.

          Whoa!

          “I…” I couldn’t really say ‘no’, not with Margaret smiling at us expectantly and everyone looking our way.

Constantijin grinned at his mother.

She answered with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

          And then Constantijin was whisking me to the dance floor, his hands spanning my waist as the DJ played a slow jam mix of something by One Republic and Ne-Yo.

          I stood stiffly in the circle of his arms.

"Look at me, Yanna."

"No.” I forced myself to smile when I realized that a lot of people were looking at us. Acting stiff was expected – he was
the
CEO and I was
not
- but looking angry meant having something more than what's right between us.

          But God, it felt so incredibly good to be back in his arms. Too good.

          Constantijin said harshly, “I’m sorry.”

          I kept my gaze stubbornly over his shoulders even though my stomach twisted at the ragged sincerity in his voice.