His Expectant Lover
Read His Expectant Lover Online
Authors: Elizabeth Lennox
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction
The Alfieri Saga: Book 7
His Expectant Lover
By Elizabeth Lennox
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Copyright 2014
ISBN13: 9781940134642
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any duplication of this material, either electronic or any other format, either currently in use or a future invention, is strictly prohibited unless you have the direct consent of the author.
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“Oh darling, isn’t that one pretty?” Shannon Flemming said, grabbing Antonio’s arm so she could surreptitiously press her breast against his strong bicep and remind him of her attributes.
Antonio barely glanced up, irritated that she was interrupting his concentration as he texted instructions to his vice president. He didn’t give a damn about the stick thin model traipsing down the runway or whatever outrageous outfit she might be wearing. “It’s fine,” he replied with an unconsciously bored voice, looking back down at his cell phone to finish the message. He could care less what she bought. Her whining, needy tone of voice was getting on his nerves lately, not to mention her attempts to manipulate him.
Antonio Alfieri realized that Shannon had become more tedious over the past few weeks, demanding more than he was willing to give her. She wanted permanence. He wanted a seductive mistress to take his mind off of business for a few hours. Shannon had fulfilled that role initially, but lately she had been wheedling for more. He suddenly decided that whatever designer dresses she chose today would be her send-off.
He didn’t mind spending money on a woman as long as they understood that money was all he would give them. His heart would never become involved. He’d done that once and he’d vowed that he would never become emotionally involved again.
“Goodness, she’s short!” Shannon snorted maliciously, laughter rising from her sneering comment. “And she’s fat!”
That caught Antonio’s attention. A short, fat model on one of the most illustrious catwalks in the industry?
Looking up, he turned to watch the next model. The woman walking down the catwalk startled him. She wasn’t fat, not in his opinion. She was….shockingly beautiful. Her dark hair slid down her back like a caress and not even the garish stage makeup could detract from her delicate features. Yes, she was significantly shorter than the other women who had come before her in the show, but Antonio instantly realized why St. Luc, one of the biggest designers in the fashion world, had chosen a woman like this. She wore the finale dress, the dress meant to wow the audience with its outrageous design. And yes, it was shocking. While most models starved themselves to achieve a painfully slender figure with no breasts and hip bones that stuck out like a starved animal, this woman was all softness. In contrast to the other models, her breasts, while not overly large, were absolutely perfect for her figure. The more defined curves definitely showed off the sinful dress to perfection, he thought as his eyes moved down the model’s figure with more than a spark of interest.
Antonio watched intently as she took delicate, almost hesitant steps down the catwalk. His eyes watched her face, amused that she was practically smiling. The other models all looked angry, probably because they hadn’t eaten anything in the last three years. But this woman smiled at the audience as if she were excited to be wearing St. Luc’s “
piece de resistance
”.
Her full breasts were almost completely visible through the mesh fabric of the dress, but all the interesting parts were covered, just barely, with strategic bead work. The seductive image of the model in the see-through dress and impossibly high heels caused an instant reaction in Antonio. She was wearing almost nothing but her smile, and instinctively, he knew that many of the other men in the audience were eying this lovely little woman. She was a scrumptious dessert surrounded by celery stalks. She was sweetness and instant gratification, while all the other women were tasteless roughage.
He wanted her, he thought. He wanted to feel those soft breasts in his hands, to discover the nipples that were currently hidden by the beading. And he wanted to see her face without all of that brash stage makeup. Damn, he’d never had a reaction to a woman like this. Not even…
He pushed that experience out of his mind and focused all of his considerable attention on the woman walking down the catwalk. She was almost at the end of the walkway now, but she would stop at that point, pose several times and then make her way back towards him. The other models were already filing out onto the stage for one last look, but he ignored them, focusing only on her.
The stick-figure models wouldn’t have done that dress justice, he thought. The mesh fabric was meant to entice, to display the curves of the wearer. The other models simply didn’t have the requisite curves to show the dress off to its best advantage. Not like this woman.
He recognized the moment she noticed him because she almost stumbled as their eyes locked. She caught herself, but he wouldn’t release her eyes. She walked, staring right back at him until she couldn’t see him any longer. Back at the front of the stage, she turned to the audience again, all of whom were standing while the models reveled in the resounding applause. It might be his imagination, but he sensed an almost palpable anger from the taller models towards the shorter woman who was chosen to wear the extraordinary “big reveal”. He noticed several of the taller models cast furious glances towards the shorter, highlighted woman, sending their envious daggers onto her delicate shoulders.
The audience loved the show and several had audibly oohed and aahed about the final dress. Women were bending heads towards their checkbooks, trying to calculate if they could fit the dress into their budget. Antonio stood as well, but his eyes were on the one woman, daring her to look at him. When she did, he even caught the sharp intake of her breath, her smile wavered and his body reacted harder to her delightful response.
Shannon’s whiny voice broke through his concentration, her tone almost jarring in intensity and irritation. “Come darling, we get to go backstage now and drink champagne.” Shannon grabbed his arm and tugged him along. Normally, he would have turned and left, gone back to his office. He had more important things to do than to act as Shannon’s walking checkbook. Shannon knew this and also was aware that she would only be allowed backstage if she were attached to Antonio’s arm. His obscene wealth and dangerous power in the business world had given her entrée into areas she would never rate on her own, even as an award winning actress.
While beautiful women vied for his attention, the business world shied away from gaining his notice. Over the years, Antonio had earned a reputation as merciless, sometimes even brutal, in business. When he decided to acquire a company, the executive officers trembled in fear. His ability to strategically position and grow his subsidiary companies was a prodigious boon for both stakeholders and the average worker – creating profit for one and career opportunities for the other. But CEOs and executive personnel lost their jobs, the one thing they were clinging to that gave them status, since their mismanagement created the conditions that Antonio seized upon.
He had no heart, it was rumored. When he bought a company, he went in and slashed costs, eliminated workers who weren’t producing adequately and swept out whatever inept management team was in place. His callous reorganization of the company created results, not sympathy. So yes, he was heartless. And he didn’t care.
Walking backstage with Shannon, he quickly looked around, intent on finding his target. Only the elite were allowed back here where models were still in their finale creations, moving among the wealthy patrons. St. Luc knew how to advertise his clothes, Antonio thought. The shorter woman had stood out on stage because of her stature but backstage, her height was a disadvantage. At least to him and he was more than a head taller than almost everyone in the room. Antonio couldn’t find her amid the chaos and post show excitement. There was plenty of champagne and other, non-legal stimulants, he noticed. Shannon had thankfully gone off to find her own amusement, which left Antonio free to move through the large, well lit area more easily.
His eyes scanned the room, looking for the woman but she wasn’t so easily found. “Ah, Mr. Alfieri!” the designer gushed with a heavy accent, hurrying over to Antonio as if they were old friends. “I heard from your lovely companion that she has selected several designs from my new line.”
Antonio didn’t blink an eye. “Give her what she wants,” he thought, dismissing the expense. It would be about the same as if he fobbed her off with a diamond bracelet, he supposed. “Where’s the woman in the beaded gown?”
George St. Luc, who Antonio also knew was born as George Merrifield of Louisville, Kentucky, smiled with a knowing grin. “Ah, the lovely Ms. Andie Knight should be…” he looked around the mirrors and curtains, “yes, she’s directly behind the stage. I do believe she’s been bombarded with admirers,” he said slyly. “She’s definitely not the ordinary model, is she?”
Antonio looked towards the back of the stage and, sure enough, a large group of men were standing by, all trying to get the woman’s attention. As Antonio observed, she looked stiff and uncomfortable, not sure what to do with all of the testosterone laden attention. “I’m buying that dress,” he told St. Luc without taking his eyes off of the lovely woman. “Tell her to meet me here, at this address.” He handed St. Luc his business card which had the address to his Milan headquarters. “She can deliver the dress in person.”
St. Luc took the card eagerly, already adding up all the delectable dresses the man would be buying today. “Of course, sir. And the dresses for Ms. Shannon?” he asked, worried that his attention on the newest young woman would diminish the sales for the old mistress.
“Just let her have what she wants.” He looked down at the designer with a hard glare, reversing his earlier decision to give her free rein. “Within reason,” he clarified, knowing that Shannon could go a bit crazy with unlimited funds. “You know her allowance. Make sure she stays within it.”
Just as he was about to exit, the mystery woman looked up and he caught her eye. There was something there in her glance, a startled awareness that he felt as well. His eyes traveled down her body, pausing at her breasts barely concealed by the intricate beading design. He could see all the way down her body because nothing on the sides of the dress hindered his awareness of what was underneath that mesh.
With a slight nod, he gave her silent notice that they would be seeing each other again. Very soon. He already saw St. Luc hurrying over to whisper in her ear. He didn’t stay to see her reaction, just walked out.
Andie stood very still, afraid that any sort of movement to the right or left would cause the indecent dress to shift and reveal parts of her body that should remain hidden. The men surrounding her were annoying gnats. Despite answering their ridiculous questions abruptly and ignoring their snide innuendos, she couldn’t seem to dissuade them. If she could just make it to the changing rooms…but with a glance, she realized that even the changing rooms had men going in and out. She knew a large majority of them were probably gay, but it didn’t matter to her peace of mind. She had enough trouble changing in front of women, doing so in front of men was not possible.
One of the other models came closer, reaching for a garment nearby. “Cecile!” Andie gasped, pulling the slender beauty closer. She grabbed Cecile’s arm, dragging her through the men, but still being careful to not move too abruptly. “Abrizzio, this is Cecile,” Andie explained, introducing the two people in the hopes that Abrizzio would find the blond model more to his liking. “She’s twenty years old and loves modeling.”
Abrizzio’s eyes skimmed up and down the slender woman, then back to Andie. “She is lovely, but you still haven’t answered my question.”
Andie had no idea what to say. Cecile understood though, and jerked her arm away. “I don’t need your castoffs,” she spat out furiously. “I can get my own men.” With that, she looked at the four men surrounding Andie with a snort of disgust before shoving her way through them and into the dressing area.
Cast offs? Andie looked at the four men with an apology, not sure why the other model would think these were castoffs. She needed to choose one before the others could be a castoff.
Abrizzio leaned closer, whispering in Andie’s ear. “The tall one is lovely, but she does not have your air of innocence,” he explained with what he probably thought was a sexy chuckle. But to Andie, it just sounded slimy.
All the men around her had to be extremely wealthy. No one got into the back stage area without significant connections. But Andie wanted nothing to do with these men. She understood why she’d been selected for this fashion show, but it was over and she wanted to get out of here. “Cecile is a very sweet woman,” she argued.
“Cecile is a bitch,” James Everheart “the third” said, almost shouldering Abrizzio out of the way.
Andie stepped back, starting to panic. She modeled clothes for a living, but until now she had only been photographed for catalogs. This high fashion show was a completely different world and she had no idea how to deal with it. “She’s very kind.”
James laughed. “She would cut your throat for the opportunity to display that dress on her body, but St. Luc chose you because of your…” the man’s eyes traveled up and down her body as if he had the right, “curves,” he ended with a smile that sent a repulsive wave of resentment through her. “Cecile has no curves.”
Andie wanted to cover herself after that comment and the disgusting leer that went with it. But she brightened her smile and stiffened her shoulders. “Well, I’m sure she has some very nice qualities.”
St. Luc rushed over to Andie. “I’m sorry gentlemen, but the perfectly displayed dress on the luscious Andie has already been purchased.”
“By who?” Abrizzio demanded, his Italian temper starting to emerge.
“By Mr. Alfieri,” St. Luc explained with a great amount of pride. “And Andie has been asked to deliver the dress personally.”