Bella Rosa Proposals: Star-Crossed Sweethearts. Barbara McMahon
attractive women, only seem to earn accolades when their looks are diminished.”
“You want more recognition in the industry?”
“Of course I do. But ultimately I want what that represents.”
“Respect.”
“Exactly. That’s what I want from my peers in the industry.”
“You don’t think you have it now?” he asked in disbelief. “I’m betting most actors would give their eye-teeth to be you or to have the chance to work with you. You’re one of the hottest properties on the planet, Atlanta. Plunk you in the lead role and, no matter what the movie is about, it’s destined to become a blockbuster and rake in millions if not billions of dollars worldwide.”
“That’s not a commentary on my talent. It only means that fans like the way I look and they’ve gobbled up all of the poor-little-rich-girl stories Zeke planted in the media over the years. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had. At one point the money was enough to keep me happy and make me feel safe.”
“Safe? That’s an odd word choice.”
“Um, you know, secure. Financially speaking.” Despite the hasty clarification, he didn’t think that was really what Atlanta meant. Since he’d just bared his soul, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that she was still holding back. She was saying, “I’ve got more money than I can spend in this lifetime, assuming Zeke’s palimony suit doesn’t leave me in the poorhouse.”
“The guy is suing you for palimony?” he asked incredulously.
She rattled off a monthly sum that left Angelo staggered. “He claims he neglected other business opportunities in order to put my career first.”
“He’s also claiming you did the horizontal mambo with his son and half the men in Hollywood. We both know the guy is delusional.”
“Thank you.”
“For what? For paying attention? I may not have known you long, Atlanta, but it’s plain to me the kind of person you are…and the kind of person you aren’t.”
She swallowed and shrugged. “That’s neither here nor there. Getting back to my point, despite being moneymakers, only a couple of my movies received positive reviews. The majority were panned.”
“To hell with the critics.” Angelo fumed on her behalf. He’d endured similar armchair analyses from so-called experts over the years. “What do they know?”
She sighed. “They know good acting, and so do I. I’m capable of it, too. I just haven’t found the right vehicle to stretch my talent. With Zeke, it became increasingly clear over the past few years that I never would. Every time I wanted to so much as read a script from a little-known screenwriter or got wind of a project that didn’t require me to show my cleavage, he vetoed it.”
“Is that why you finally left him?”
“I’d had enough,” she said softly.
“Good for you.”
“When I first met Zeke, I thought he was my savior, but it turned out I’d merely traded one male keeper for another.”
“How so?”
She blinked as if just realizing what she’d said. He doubted she knew how haunted or sad she looked. It was her expression that kept him from pushing when she said, “We’ll save that for another day. Do you realize it’s nearly midnight?”
He stood and came around the table, where he offered her his hand. “Tomorrow then.”
“Excuse me?” she asked as she rose to her feet.
“Tomorrow is another day. We can pick up where we left off. We could do dinner again.”
“Angelo—”
“You don’t have to tell me any deep, dark secrets. But if you do, you can trust me not to share anything I learn with another person.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it. “You’ll find me a good listener, Atlanta. Every bit as good as you were tonight when I bared my soul.”
“Then maybe you’ll take a bit of advice. You’re here to see your father, Angelo. You can’t keep avoiding him by spending all of your time with me.”
“You’re the only reason this trip is tolerable.” When Atlanta opened her mouth to protest, he added, “Don’t worry about Luca. My father and I will have our talk. A family gathering is planned. I’ll see him then and get to meet the rest of the clan.” He couldn’t quite keep the dread from his tone.
“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as all that.”
“Maybe not.” He smiled. “You and I will skip out early. I see no point in staying for more than a few introductions and some small talk.”
That had Atlanta blinking. “You’re asking me to come with you?”
“I could use an ally.”
“It’s a family party, Angelo.”
“They’re strangers,” he corrected. “The only thing we have in common is DNA.”
He thought of Isabella and guilt nipped. The description didn’t seem fair. His sister was kind, interesting and spirited. He liked her, admired her. The fragile bond he already felt went beyond the Casali blue eyes and a blunt chin. Under other circumstances…
But the circumstances couldn’t be changed, which meant he was left to make the best of them.
“There’s no need to give me your answer right now. You can think about it. As for tomorrow, I’ll call early in the day, so you can figure out what our plans will be and what I should wear.”
She tipped her head to one side. “You want me to tell you what to wear?”
“No. I just want to be with you. But if that’s what it takes…”
He pulled her tight against him and kissed her with more passion than was wise. Was he testing her or testing himself? She sighed her consent as their lips parted. A moment later, however, her tone was no breathy whisper when she added, “We need to get one thing straight.”
“And that is?” He ran his knuckles down the sides of her ribcage before resting his hands on her waist and was pleased when he felt her tremble.
Her voice remained steady and strong when she said, “We share the decision-making. Okay?”
As he lowered his mouth to hers for the second time, he whispered, “I’ve got no problem with that.”
Atlanta was still in bed when Angelo called the following morning.
And the morning after that.
And the morning after that.
It became their habit to spend the better part of the day together and then share the evening meal. In addition to eating in, they’d dined at nearly every place in Monta Correnti. Except for Rosa and Sorella, of course.
Afterward, they talked, kissed and bade one another goodnight. It was unexpected and sweet. What was happening between them was neither friendship nor a fling. An exact definition failed her, but she knew one thing: it was becoming an exquisite kind of torture.
On this morning, Angelo’s deep voice reached through the phone like a caress.
“Did you sleep well?”
She’d barely slept at all. Again. Between Angelo’s increasingly bold kisses and her barely restrained responses to those kisses, she’d passed the better part of another night tossing and turning. While her legs had become tangled in the sheets, her mind had been free to roam. Time and again it strayed to sex…with Angelo. If the skill he’d shown with his mouth was any indication, the ultimate act would be good. Very good. At least from her perspective. But how would he