Blasphemous (Torn #3)(17)

Racing? “Um, no, not really familiar with that. Though I know what it is, I didn’t find it all that interesting.”

“Please, I would love to see the men’s faces when you say that.” Dimitris laughed as he ushered us out the door and headed to dine at some fancy restaurant.

The men, he forgot to mention, were heart-stopping, gorgeous men. The urge to lick my suddenly dry lips from nervousness was killing me. “This is Jacques Bertrand,” Dimitris introduced me to the French champion. Jacques was tall with sexy side-stubble, longhair that ended behind his neck, but it was worn back in a band, with tawny eyes and had all the makings of an ultimate playboy.

“Good evening, ma belle,” Jacques greeted me the European way, kissing both cheeks.

I was blushing furiously, but I didn’t have time to ponder since Dimitris was on to the next lothario. “This is Luca de Medici.”

Luca was taller than Jacques by a few inches, had the most amazing chocolate eyes fringed with sooty, long lashes and a pair of killer dimples. I tensed when he kissed me the way Jacques did, but whispered something into my ear. “You smell wonderful, carina.” The Italian Casanova.

“Lastly, this is the infamous Spanish Duke, Andrès Franco.” Dimitris gestured to the dark haired man with emerald green eyes.

I was surprised that he held out his hand, briefly shook mine, but didn’t let go. “Would you like to be my companion for tonight? I’d rather talk to you than these dos locos,” Andrès drawled in a sexy accent.

God, these men! They made Bass sound so tame.

“Shut it, Franco. Emma’s going through a rough time, so you guys will look at her like a sister,” Dimitris spoke with a don’t-mess-with-me voice.

“Okay, we’ll behave. Who’s the bastard, Emma?” Andrès asked just before Jacques intruded and ushered me towards the table to join them. “What can we get for you, ma belle?”

“Sí, carina, have a drink and laugh tonight. You’ll be good as new tomorrow.” Luca smiled at me, his flirtatious self was gone.

Three hours later, the trio of aristocratic adrenaline junkies made me laugh so hard about their stupid stories that my stomach was cramping. We got to the club right around midnight, where the celebratory party was held. It felt good to laugh again.

As it turned out, Paris was just what I needed. I was ready to have a good time and dance the night away.

E

The thought of going back to Aspasia made my stomach drop. So much so that I didn’t want to step on the island any more. It was dreadful, but I knew I had made a commitment to finish the movie.

Bass… I wondered how his weekend had gone.

Right about sundown, Dimitris got me back on the island. He was persistent to take me back to the cottage, but I told him no. “Thank you for being a great man, D. I can’t express how grateful I am. I feel so much better now. Still hurting, but tolerable.” I hugged the life out of him before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I do what I can to help my friends out,” he said with a big smile on his face. “Get some rest. I heard the guys, especially Jacques, kept you late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Another wave of goodbyes and I went to the awaiting ride.

I released a long sigh as I entered my bedroom, my eyes longingly gazed at the large bed as I dropped my weekend bag on the floor. Taking my shoes off, I dropped to the bed with a soft thud. “So sleepy,” I groaned out loud, closing my eyes with a smile.

“Where were you all weekend?” Bass started yelling, momentarily confusing me.

Right, when did he get here? Why did he sound suspicious anyway? What’d he expect me to do? Stay here all weekend long and count as the time ticked by? Well, that was my plan… until Dimitris whisked me away to Paris and introduced me to the dark champions, giving me a night to remember. “Somewhere,” I finally murmured.

“Where?” Bass demanded.

Paris. “Sight-seeing.”

“Were you with him?”

Ah, here it comes, I thought with disdain. He thought I was with Carter. Funny, Carter was a baby next to those three bad boys, but why does it matter if I did or didn’t? It was obvious that he was through with me. “Think whatever you like, Bass.” I got up, ignoring where he was and left my bedroom. I was in the kitchen, drinking water when he pestered again.

“Did you f*uk him?”

I just shrugged in response to his question. Even if I was hurting this much, I couldn’t help feeling good that he was the one seeking me now.

Bass strolled closer to me, just enough to make my heart gallop faster. His eyes were like they were made out of ice—cold, haunting and dead. “Answer the question, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sure. I did. Happy?”





Chapter 7


“Love is like a war: easy to begin but very hard to stop.”



- H. L. Mencken

Bass



“Sure. I did. Happy?” Emma had the gall to finish her glass before leaving me in the kitchen and then slamming her bedroom door shut.

I was shaking with rage that I didn’t even trust myself to be near her for the rest of the night.

The next afternoon, I was thinking of ways to lash out at Emma when I heard someone approach Dimitris. “Kosta! I didn’t know you were friends with Formula One’s Jacques Bertrand and Luca de Medici?”