Seduced By The Bachelor

Thankful her cover was still intact, Tatiyana wore a grateful smile. Following the attendant, her heart drumming inside her chest, she hoped her hair and makeup were still perfect. Normally, Tatiyana wore sweats when she traveled, but this morning she’d gone all out. Fake eyelashes, lush curls that flowed down her back, gold accessories to complement her Chanel outfit and peep-toe sandals. Markos Morretti had a penchant for model-types, with long hair and slim figures, and since Tatiyana wanted to catch his eye, she had to look her best.

“Here we are,” the attendant said, gesturing to the aircraft. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to meet Mr. Morretti...”

“Thanks for everything.” Anxious to meet her attorney “boyfriend” for the first time, Tatiyana waved and marched onto the gleaming Boeing 738 as if she owned it.

“Morning,” greeted the flight attendant, giving her the once-over, his interest evident in his toothy grin. “Right this way, Ms. Washington. Let me show you to your seat...”

Tatiyana expelled a nervous breath. She could do this. Had to do this. Her family was depending on her. Lying went against everything she believed in, but what choice did she have? Her sister was depressed, and she was scared of losing her forever.

Her gaze landed on Markos Morretti, and she stopped abruptly, couldn’t move. Tatiyana heard a gasp fall from her lips and slammed her mouth shut. He was a living, breathing men’s ad, and seeing him in the flesh was a shock to her system. Blood surged to her girly parts, warming her body with desire, and her heartbeat roared in her ears.

In her haste to meet him, Tatiyana tripped over her feet. To avoid falling headfirst into his lap, she braced her hands against the wall and straightened her wobbly knees. Tatiyana gathered herself, then adjusted her clothes. To her relief, the other first-class passengers were too busy on their electronic devices to notice her blunder, and Markos—the devastating piece of eye candy—had his eyes closed, earphones in and a pensive expression on his face. He wasn’t paying her any attention, but he would. Men always did when she turned on the charm, and Tatiyana was looking forward to seducing the Italian bachelor. He had smooth, olive skin, chiseled features and thick lips. Lips made for kissing and sucking and exploring between her legs—

“Here you go.” The flight attendant gestured to the window seat with a nod. “If you need anything, push your call button and I’ll be here in a flash.”

Stepping over Markos’s long, outstretched legs, Tatiyana swung her tote bag toward him, hoping to wake him, but he didn’t move. How was she supposed to seduce him when he didn’t even know she was alive? What if he slept the entire flight? Then what?

Sitting in her seat, she was impressed by how spacious and attractive the cabin was. Tatiyana had never flown first-class, and had had to use some of the money in her savings to afford the pricey ticket. Her gaze landed on Markos again—for the second time in minutes—and her mouth dried. Tatiyana smelled perfume on his clothes, a charming blend of fruits and spices, and wondered if everything she’d read online about his dating life was true.

The pilot came on the intercom, warmly greeting passengers to Flight 74, but Tatiyana was so distracted by Markos’s presence that she couldn’t concentrate on what the pilot was saying. Tatiyana couldn’t remember ever being this attracted to a guy, this taken with anyone, and fanned her face to cool down her overheated body.

Studying his profile, she heard Lena’s words in her ear and smiled to herself. Her mother was right; Markos did look like a movie star. Weeks ago, Lena and Jantel had gone to his swanky, downtown law firm, but the meeting had been a waste of time. Markos refused to help, insisted the mayor would never cheat on his fiancée and promptly kicked them out of his office. To add insult to injury, his receptionist had handed them a three-hundred-dollar invoice on their way out the door. Tatiyana didn’t learn about the meeting until she’d returned from a road trip with her friends days later. No matter. Tatiyana knew what to do, and this time she’d be calling the shots, not the slick-talking attorney with the bedroom eyes.

Tatiyana buckled her seat belt and crossed her legs. She hated flying, and hoped a flight attendant would be around soon with a complimentary glass of champagne. Her first-class ticket had cost more than her montly mortgage payment, and Tatiyana planned to get her money’s worth. She was going to have seconds and thirds of everything, especially dessert, and smirked when she remembered the conversation she’d had with her mom at dinner last night. “Eat your belly full,” Lena had advised, adjusting her crooked, auburn wig. “Hell, at that price, the airline should give you a doggie bag and a bottle of Sangria!”

Fond memories came to mind, filling her heart with love. Her mother was bossy, and always had to have the last word, but she was the glue that held their family together, and Tatiyana adored her, faults and all. Suffering from postpartum depression, Jantel couldn’t care for her daughter, Allie, so she’d moved her sister and niece into her house. A week later, her mom came to visit and never left. Lena ensured everything ran smoothly at home and doted on her only grandchild. Pounding the pavement for work, Tatiyana could attend interviews, knowing Jantel and Allie were in good hands. Her friend, Daphne Kostopoulos, owned a staffing agency, and gave her hours every week. Tatiyana missed her lucrative position at Pinnacle Microsystems, and was anxious to find another one, but first, she had make nice with Markos Morretti—the attorney who’d swindled her mom out of three hundred dollars—and persuade him to help her kid sister.

Within minutes, the plane was at cruising altitude, flying high above the clouds. Watching Markos on the sly, Tatiyana considered introducing herself, but sensed it wasn’t the right time. He opened his briefcase, took out a leather-bound notebook and flipped it open. Pen in hand, he wrote furiously, only stopping to tell the flight attendant what he wanted to drink. “I’ll have a coffee with a double shot of Bailey’s, two sugars and a dash of espresso.”

Sensing this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, Tatiyana spoke up. “I’ll have the same, but with a double shot of espresso.”

Markos glanced to the right, staring intently at her. Tatiyana wanted to introduce herself, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. Remembering what was at stake, she conquered her nerves and offered her hand in greeting. “Hi,” she said, wearing her brightest, most dazzling smile. “I’m Tatiyana Washington.”

He nodded but didn’t speak. Jerk, she thought, put off by his cold demeanor. Markos gave her a blank look, making her feel small and insignificant, and Tatiyana wished her happy-go-lucky self hadn’t introduced herself first. Sensing some reserve in his manner, she toned down her excitement and spoke in a softer, quieter voice. “And you are—” she prompted.

“Working,” he snapped.

Embarrassed, her cheeks flushed with heat, she forced an apologetic smile onto her lips. “Not a problem. Sorry for bothering you—”

“Thanks.” Returning to his document, he picked up his fancy diamond pen and resumed writing, scowling as if she was a pesky fly he couldn’t get rid of.

Shocked by his rudeness, Tatiyana realized she’d never disliked anyone more than the curt divorce attorney, and made up her mind to get even with him before Flight 74 landed in Tampa. Deciding to play it cool, Tatiyana slipped on her sunglasses and settled back into her seat, pretending Markos didn’t exist. It didn’t work. She couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, watching him on the sly as he typed, and when their arms inadvertently touched and desire exploded inside her, Tatiyana feared she didn’t stand a chance against Markos Morretti.

Chapter 2 (#ulink_b7aee201-bff3-56f2-a87b-1fa2fa199013)

Markos Morretti glanced around the first-class cabin, searching for an empty seat, but couldn’t find one anywhere. Dannazione, he thought, dragging a hand through his short, black hair. I’m screwed. He had motions to read and depositions to write, but everything about his seatmate was a distraction. Her floral fragrance, her bubbly, effervescent vibe, how she danced around in her seat to the music playing in her pink earbuds, her pretty, melodious voice.

Staggered by her beauty, all Markos could do was stare. She was stunning, well-put together in a white shorts set, bejeweled sandals, and a gold ankle bracelet that drew his gaze to her silky, brown legs. Her outfit screamed, “Look at Me,” and Markos did. He couldn’t stop undressing her with his eyes. He had an erection growing inside his boxer briefs, and the dark-skinned beauty was the reason why. What’s wrong with me? Why am I sweating a woman who looks like trouble? Who’s probably broken hearts in every state?

Markos felt guilty for snapping at her, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. It wasn’t Tatiyana’s fault he had a heavy caseload and an incompetent paralegal. The motion was riddled with spelling mistakes, and he had no choice but to revise the document Izzy had written. He made a mental note to have a stern talk with her when he returned to LA on Monday. He’d hired her as a favor to her mother but regretted it the first time Izzy Braunstein waltzed into his office an hour late, complaining about her boneheaded boyfriend.

Telling himself not to worry about it, Markos shook off his negative thoughts. His job was challenging, fast-paced and stressful at times, but he was a damn good attorney, and he was proud of his winning record. He spent his days meeting with potential and existing clients, drafting court documents, consulting with his staff and going to court. Although Markos loved his job, he needed a break. His brothers and cousins were en route to the Oasis Spa and Resort as well, and he was looking forward to their guys-only weekend.

Markos picked up his notebook determined to finish his work. Hired to represent the biggest pop star on the planet in her divorce, Markos knew the high-profile case could increase his popularity, and devoted all of his free time to plotting and strategizing how to win. The divorce proceedings had dragged on for eighteen long months, and he was growing tired of the case. But when he got into a heated argument with the opposing counsel in June, and the jerk threw a cup of water in his face, resulting in a courthouse brawl, Markos vowed to crush his opponent no matter the cost. His critics called him ruthless, claimed he was motivated by money, fame and power, but Markos didn’t care. He was a Morretti, and Morrettis ignored what the haters said. He gave a 100 percent to every case, regardless of his client’s net worth, and refused to let anyone outsmart him in court.

Like his thoughts, his eyes wandered to Tatiyana, instead of his notes. Tatiyana met his gaze, stared right at him. Sparks flew, proving their chemistry was real, and not a figment of his imagination. Markos felt an immediate attraction to her, a spark that couldn’t be denied, and struggled to keep his hands in his lap and off her curves. His gaze dipped from her face to her cleavage, resting at her bosom. Her animal-print scarf gave her ensemble a touch of class, but he fantasized about her naked, on his lap, riding him—

She sang in a low voice, snapping her fingers, rocking her body from side to side.

Markos plucked at his striped shirt. Dancing around in her seat, having a party for one, Tatiyana reminded him of a video vixen in a music video. Too bad she was probably high maintenance. One look at Tatiyana told Markos everything he needed to know. Skilled at reading people, he suspected she was materialistic and decided to keep his distance. Markos didn’t want what Tatiyana was offering. He was tired of women throwing themselves at him, and wished he could meet someone who didn’t want anything from him.

Still, he was intrigued and couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Excuse me.” Standing, Tatiyana stepped past him, heading up the aisle as if it were her own personal runway. Her scent overpowered his senses, sending his thoughts into overdrive. Leaning to the right, he admired her captivating strut, curious if she had a boyfriend.

His eyes flickered over her curves, cruising down her hips with deliberate intent. She strode toward the lavatory, giving him a terrific view of her from behind, tempting him to break the rules. Sweat clung to his skin, drenching the back of his short-sleeve shirt. Long after Tatiyana disappeared into the bathroom, he was thinking about her—her smoky eyes, her toned, slender shape, her mesmerizing walk, how her aura and physical beauty drew him in.

“Sir, are you finished with your lunch? I hope everything was to your liking...”

Markos straightened and regarded the flight attendant, hoping she didn’t see him ogling Tatiyana’s backside. “Yes, thanks, everything was great.”

To get his mind off Tatiyana, Markos stared out the window. The sky was clear, powder blue, and instantly calmed his mind. Hanging out with the guys was the perfect antidote for his stress. These days, all Markos did was work, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cut loose. He had an active social life, but none of the women he was dating excited him. He kept females at a distance, hadn’t gotten close to anyone since Emme left, and didn’t plan to. Thoughts of his ex-girlfriend flooded his mind, and Markos wondered if the pain in his heart would ever subside.

Someone whistled, drawing Markos’s gaze to the front of the plane. Tatiyana was back, a sight to behold with that radiant, effervescent smile. A child raced up the aisle, slamming into Tatiyana, and she rocked back onto her heels. She dropped her purse, and its contents spilled onto the floor, flying everywhere.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Markos bent and picked up the items at his feet, handing them to her. Their fingers touched, brushing ever so lightly against each other. Tatiyana thanked him, but he could see the contempt on her face and knew she had her guard up. Her eyes bored into him, leaving him feeling vulnerable, exposed, as if she could see into his soul.

After he helped her pick up her stuff, she sat down, picked up the book on her seat and flipped it open.

“Italy for Dummies?” he said, unable to hide his amusement. “Are you planning a trip to Italy in the near future?”

To his surprise, she didn’t acknowledge him or respond to his question.

“I’m Markos Morretti.”

Tatiyana stared at his outstretched hand, as if it was covered in germs, and raised her book in the air. “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Morretti, but as you can see I’m very busy.”

“I deserve that. I was rude earlier, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” she replied, vigorously nodding. “You were.”

“I’m sorry. I’m working on an important disposition, and sometimes when I get caught up in a case I lose sight of everything else.”

“Then why are you wasting your time talking to me?”

“Spending time with a vivacious woman is never a waste of time,” he said smoothly. “And I’m curious to hear about your trip to Italy.”

“Why? Do you moonlight as a travel guide when you’re not in court?”