Seduced by the HeirBy: Pamela Yaye
Rafael Morretti, the firstborn of Arturo and Vivica Morretti, embodies all the traits of an oldest child. He’s a born leader with a high IQ who’d much rather work than party. But when he travels to Venice, Italy, for his best friend’s wedding and comes face-to-face with his old college sweetheart, Paris St. Clair, he steps up his game and pours on the charm! Being with Paris is so easy, so natural, and their chemistry is stronger than ever. The couple spend a magical weekend together exploring tourist hot spots, dining in posh restaurants and slow dancing under the stars. And after an explosive night of lovemaking on New Year’s Eve, Rafael feels himself falling fast….
I LOVE the Morretti family and hope to write about this dynamic, close-knit clan for many more years to come. If you keep reading, I promise to keep writing! :)
I’m anxiously waiting to “hear” what you think of Rafael and Paris’s sizzling love story, so drop me a line at [email protected], find me on Facebook or visit my website, www.pamelayaye.com.
Thanks for the support. Happy reading, and be blessed.
I wouldn’t be a multipublished author without my amazing critique partners, Donna Tunney and Leica Cornwall (of Avon books). I can’t imagine not having you lovely ladies in my life and feel incredibly blessed to call you my friends. I appreciate your encouragement, your unwavering support and your honesty.
Next time we meet at BP for lunch, it’s on me! :)
“I’ve wanted to meet you for years, and it looks like today is my lucky day!”
Like a genie in a bottle, a voluptuous woman in a gold strapless dress appeared at Rafael Morretti’s side, flashing a seductive smile. He had been searching the tent for his friend Stefano Via, but couldn’t find the gregarious stockbroker anywhere. Stefano and his bride-to-be, Cassandra Knight, had rented the lavish countryside villa, near Venice, Italy, for their week-long wedding celebration. And the three-hundred-plus guests inside the satin-draped tent were partying like there was no tomorrow. Conversation was loud and boisterous, the live band was whipping the fashionably dressed crowd into a frenzy, and the mood was energetic and festive.
“I spotted you the moment you arrived.” A girlish giggle fell from between her thin, peach lips. “Being over six feet tall, and drop-dead gorgeous makes you kinda hard to miss.”
Raising an eyebrow, Rafael regarded his female admirer closely. The blue-eyed temptress didn’t seem to care about sending the wrong impression or offending the other guests. In fact, she was determined to violate his personal space, and to rub her body against his. Damn, he thought, searching the tent for an escape route. Now I know how a waitress feels during happy hour!
“I’m a huge fan of your work, and I have every magazine you’ve ever been featured in.”
Rafael raised his glass to his mouth and tasted his Dom Perignon. The blonde was staring at him with adoration, as if he was a rock star and she was his number one fan. But Rafael wasn’t moved by her sultry tone or her provocative pout. Her blatant come-on was a turnoff. Call him old-fashioned, but he didn’t like the aggressive, take-charge types. He preferred classy, refined women who carried themselves with grace and dignity. A huge fan of my work? he thought, puzzled by her words. Can’t say I’ve ever heard that line before. I hope she doesn’t think I’m Emilio.
His younger brothers, Demetri and Nicco, teased him mercilessly about his resemblance to their famous, cousin—race-car driving sensation Emilio Morretti. And although Rafael didn’t see the physical similarities, he suspected that’s who the giggly blonde thought he was. “I’m sorry, miss, but I think you have me confused with someone else.” He peeled her fingers off his forearm and forced a smile. “I don’t know you, and I’m certain you don’t know me.”
She batted her fake eyelashes. “I know exactly who you are and I can prove it.”
“Okay,” he said, deciding to call her bluff. “Who am I?”
“You’re Rafael Morretti, heir to the Morretti Incorporated empire, and according to Business Weekly, one of the most brilliant minds of the twenty-first century.” Moving closer, until they were touching, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You turned thirty-six back in August, but in my opinion you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”