Page 3 of The Guardian

Page List


Font:  

2

Gisele

“I’d whistleif I knew how to,” Vivienne remarked, pale blue eyes roving over me with approval. “You look like one of those Bond girls—a sexy smoking gun with a lot ofspunk.”

Blair giggled as she roved her dark eyes over my face, pleased with the results. “We’ve done a great job! The contouring’s superb, babe. Your ultra-defined cheekbones and nose altered your entire face. The lip trick sure makes your already plump lips have a definite edgetothem.”

Exotic. It was the first thing that emerged from my mind the moment all the finishing touches were in place. There was no trace of Gisele Weber. My eyes were heavily rimmed with kohl. The facial contouring profoundly altered my features. It sharpened them. I could easily pass as Russian or Brazilian. Long, thick fake lashes. My lids were heavily painted metallic black. The black on black made mynowblue eyes glaringly pop out. It was the first thing one would immediately notice…the first thing they’d be instantly drawn to. Sensual blue eyes. They beckoned. They seared—a glance of lust, a promise of a wild nightahead.

Yes.This is definitely the look that will get his juices flowing downsouth.

“Good luck with mission penis du jour tonight,” Blair teased as she brushed over the long voluminous tresses that stopped five inches below my shoulders. “Don’t act innocent. Men like Jared will run the other way if he senses you’re notexperienced.”

I knew him. He liked his women skilled, but I liked to refer to them as “seasoned.” I’d have expected with someone with Jared’s IQ, it’d be about a woman’s intellect. Unfortunately, that was not the case. He was wired like the rest of the hot-blooded males, letting their mini-mes dictate their choice of mate. He’d dated movie stars, models, divorcees, teachers, and lawyers, but never a college student. The youngest he had dated was a twenty-five-year-old. Two years younger than him. But somehow, he didn’t have a specific age preference for older women. He even dated a forty-year-old once. Ahotforty-year-old knockout. Nevertheless, his tastes fell along the lines of pain and pleasure and hot and the furious (Yovanna had attested to as much in the article) and the “seasoned” women preferred it to, too, or so itseemed.

Seeing that the first part of the plan was already done, the whole thing became daunting all of a sudden. A hollow knot began to form in the pit of my stomach, making me feel restless and anxious. It was silly really since I’d wanted this for so long, but now that the wheels were beginning to turn, I was a bit perplexed. As much as I thrived on positivity, this could easily become a disaster. What if he wouldn’t be able to fit? The furthest I’d gotten with a guy was second base, and I doubted fondling breasts counted, not in the league of Jared’s sexual prowess,anyway.

I evoked a soft sigh, anxiously eyeing my friends. “Did it hurt? I mean, thatfirsttime?”

Vivienne thoughtfully gazed at me before pausing, seeming as though she was recalling that specific memory to mind. “It didn’t hurt…though it was uncomfortable forabit.”

Blair snickered. “I was desperate. Desperation doesn’t hurt; I can tell youthatmuch.”

To this day, she would never confess who the mystery man was. She came back one summer and announced she lost her V-card sailing somewhere in theMediterranean.

She quickly glanced at her vanity watch before reverting her gaze back to us. “You have to go down first. Viv and I will follow in thirty minutes, give or take. We have to be mindful so people won’t recognize you. The last thing we need is for him to hear you’re Gisele. That’s all he needs to hear, and his balls willshrivel.”

We all cackled at the image she painted ofJared.

Everyone who was important in Silicon Valley was here tonight in Hank Rinaldi’s palatial home in Atherton. There were three stairways in this household—one for the servants to use, one for the family, and one for the public, merely for show (rarely used because Mrs. Rinaldi would have a heart attack if she spotted an outline of a footprint anywhere on her sleek polished marble). Taking the usual route via the second stairs, I slowly descended as I nervously skittered towards the rarely used passage leading to the garden. While I hadn’t run into any guests, I did, however, pass by a lot of the cateringfolks.

Relieved beyond comprehension, I took a moment, pausing just to recoup and recharge. My heart hammering against my chest did little to ease my tension. “Drat! Get it together,” I breathed out before resuming my steps until a voicehaltedme.

“Well, look at you,” a familiar voice came out of nowhere, blocking me from continuing down the long, mirrored corridor. The mystery person skirted my tensed figure, stopping right before my face. Dark eyes sparkled with mischief and whatever else I cared nottoname.

This wasn’t the playboy I intended to secure attention with. “Move out my way,” I gritted through my clenched teeth, earnestly trying not to show myirritation.

“Gisele?”Wyatt, Blair’s oldest brother, wickedly smirked before making a long, winding whistle, enthusiastically checking me from head to foot. “You’rewow!” he whistled again in disbelief. “Just. Fucking. Wow.” His eyes brightened with each wordspoken.

Typical reaction coming from this man. “Oh, do shut up already, Wyatt.” I’m wasting precious time conversing with him when Jared had most likely arrived. The man was never late. The party started five minutes ago, so he was out there somewhere, and I’d skin Wyatt alive if Jared was already targeted by some woman who’d want to be next on his list. Let’s face it; women used such events to snag their next trophy husband. The competition was stiff. and I’d rather not get beaten at myowngame.

“Make sure to stay out of my father’s line of sight. I don’t like to see him ascompetition.”

“Ew, that’s sick!” I gagged, sticking my tongue out and all. I recoiled at the thought of Hank Rinaldi’s slithering eyes on me. He already had three mistresses. Surely, a man could be satisfied with his miniharem.

He cheekily winked at me, appearing not appalled at his father’s indiscretions. “He won’t know who you are, so he might get a little jiggywithit.”

“That’s not funny.” Not one little bit. “How the hell did you know it’s me, anyway?” I chose dark makeup specifically to transform my features. How in the world did Wyatt figure it out? Surely, with Jared’s sharp keenness on things, he’d immediately know, too. That was not good. Knowing such a fact made my hesitation skyrocket to obscenelevels.

“Oh, honey, that perfume gave you away.” His eyes sparkled, consuming me slowly. “As you know, that night left me wanting. You’ve scarred me for life. No woman compares inmyeyes.”

My eyes bulged out as I looked around, hoping no one was using this scarcely used side entrance. “Oh, shush!Your sister will hear you, and if she finds out, I’m going to tear you limb from limb.” The breast-fondling thing? Yeah, it happened with this man. Unfortunately. It was one drunken mistake, and to this day, he wouldn’t stop pursuing me for another imprompturendezvous.

My outburst didn’t dissuade him from gazing at me strangely. “What are you doing?” his face perked up, sensing something peculiar. “You went to great lengths to transformyourself…hmmm…”

“None of your damnbusiness!”

His hand loosely took hold of my arm, as if daring me to look him straight in the eye. “I’m serious, Gi,” he murmured, slowly closing inonme.


Tags: Pamela Ann Billionaire Romance