Temptation's Song. Janice Sims
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be ready for it. As a result of her dedication, she had no love life to speak of. “You don’t date a sexy beast, girl, you jump his bones!”
“Throw him down and have your way with him,” Belana offered, getting into the ribbing of Elle.
“Turn him on, rip his clothes off and see if he’ll salute,” said Patrice.
“And if he salutes, see if he can go the distance,” added Belana.
Elle laughed. “Keep dreaming, guys. You know I could never come on to a man like Dominic Corelli.”
“What if he comes on to you?” Patrice asked.
Elle was stumped. Excited by the prospect, but definitely without a notion of what she would do if Dominic Corelli actually admitted he wanted to sleep with her.
“Let me enjoy the fact that he wants me in his opera,” she told them. “The idea of his wanting me in his bed is beyond me.” She laughed. “Besides, believe me, he doesn’t see me as a potential sexual conquest. He’s already laughed at my ignorance and told me he’s the devil to work for. So, don’t go dreaming up sexy scenarios in your love-starved minds!”
“Love-starved,” said Belana, offended. “I’m dating two men. And Patty is fighting off the advances of every horny actor in Hollywood.”
Patrice laughed. “You’re exaggerating a bit, my dear. I really am love-starved. I haven’t been on a date in five months. You’re representing all of us when it comes to dating.”
Belana snapped her fingers at them. “I’ve got it like that!”
Elle and Patrice laughed at her. “She’s not at all humble about it,” observed Elle.
At that instant, Paolo arrived with a food-laden tray and served their meals with a flourish. “Enjoy!”
They did. Seasoned with savory spices, the trout was baked to perfection and the risotto, made with saffron, was a delicate, appropriate accompaniment to the fish.
When they were finished they called Paolo over, gave him a nice gratuity, for which he thanked them, and sent their compliments to the chef. Paolo waved to them as they walked away.
When they were nearly out of earshot he grinned and exclaimed, “Bella!”
Chapter 3
The next day, Dominic was in the office of his spacious apartment in Milan watching the performances of the previous day’s singers on a flat-screen TV. He wanted to make sure that choosing Elle Jones for the female lead had been the right decision. Maybe he had imagined the tone of her voice? After all, by the time she came along he was so tired of auditioning singers that he’d begun to pray to be delivered from the task. He could have latched onto any competent singer.
A competent singer wasn’t all he needed for this role. He needed a star, someone the audience would be instantly enamored with and continue to love from opening night to closing night.
When he got to Elle Jones’s performance and saw her walk onto the stage, he felt his stomach muscles painfully constrict. It was a reaction he’d stopped having at the sight of a beautiful woman when he was in his teens. The feeling was a mixture of anticipation and excitement with a bit of sexual desire thrown in.
He was glad he had not been watching her yesterday when she had sung for him. He would have had this same reaction before she had even opened her mouth, and who knew? His decision to hire her could have been based on sexual desire.
He was only human.
On the screen, she began to sing, and the expression on her face was sublime. It was obvious she loved the song and it was also clear that she wasn’t performing for him, but was singing to heaven. His mother had told him that her own best performances were not sung for an audience in an opera house, but a heavenly audience: God and his angels. She imagined that she was entertaining angels and it gave a certain quality to her voice that she was never able to duplicate when she wasn’t in that mind-set during a performance.
It was a feeling, according to his mother, that was hard to explain. But she said she had felt closer to heaven during those times than she had ever felt while sitting in a church.
Dominic believed her because when he was creating music he also felt more connected with God, the universe or whatever a person thought of as a higher power.
Could Elle Jones be a believer?
He smiled the entire time she was singing, and then he used the remote to stop the DVD player. Yes, Elle Jones had been the right choice, but there was something about her that made him wary. She was so young, only twenty-five, and inexperienced. Plus, there was the fact that he was wildly attracted to her. That could pose a problem. He made it a rule to never get personally involved with colleagues or staff. It could get messy. Artists were notoriously emotional creatures. His own personality could get volatile at times, especially when he was trying to bring his work to life on the stage. Would he be able to work with Elle Jones every day without growing evermore attracted to her? Also, the fact that she was attracted to him hadn’t escaped his notice. She had trembled at his touch, after all. Was she worth the effort?
He watched her performance one more time.
Yes, she was.
A couple of nights later, an unsuspecting Dominic got another dose of Elle Jones.
It was Saturday night and he was out on the town with his cousin, Gianni Romano. Gianni was the only son of his tia Maria, his father’s youngest sister. Of his father’s three sisters, Tia Maria had been the only one who hadn’t turned a cold shoulder to his new African-American bride when he’d brought her home to meet the family. Subsequently Tia Maria and Dominic’s mother, Natalie, had become best friends. The other sisters had come around eventually, but by then Dominic and Gianni had already forged a strong bond, as he and his mother spent a lot of time visiting Tia Maria. The women had encouraged the first cousins’ friendship because they wanted them to be close. Later, Tia Maria would give birth to a daughter, Dona Maria, and Natalie would give birth to two daughters, Ana and Sophia.
He and Gianni, who worked in the fashion industry alongside Dominic’s father, Carlo, had dined and were talking about their family when Dominic’s cell phone rang.
Gianni had been in the middle of telling him about his toddler’s new skill at launching himself like a daredevil off furniture, the greater the height the better. Dominic gazed down at the number on his cell phone’s display, saw that it was the police and quickly answered.
An officer said that they had a young American woman in custody and she had given them his number as someone who could vouch for her.
“What is the young woman’s name?” Dominic asked.
“Elle Jones,” said the officer.
“Exactly what is she charged with?” Dominic asked, astonished.
“Striking a police officer,” was the answer.
Before hanging up, Dominic asked for the address of the police station, assured the officer he did know Elle Jones and that he would be there as soon as possible.
Regarding Gianni across the table, he frowned. “Elle Jones is in jail for hitting a cop.” Dominic had told him all about Elle over dinner
Gianni laughed. “I like her already.”
“I’d better get over there before she takes the entire police station hostage,” joked Dominic, shaking his head.
The cousins rose and Dominic placed enough money on the table to cover their bill plus a generous tip. “Tell Francesca hello for me and buy little Gianni a helmet. He’ll soon graduate to trying to jump off the roof.”
“God forbid,” said Gianni. “Let me know how Signorina Jones fares.”
In front of the restaurant Gianni went to his Jaguar and Dominic to his Range Rover, where he sat behind the wheel for a moment,