Jasmine frowned, what did anything he said to her revolve around her brother Zayn?

The little hairs on the nape of her neck rose. "I'm afraid I do not understand. What about him?"

"Trying to seduce you into my bed was my form of revenge against your so called brother. Women in our country–in my society, especially the ones that have been well bred and come from high standing families, are expected to stay pure and marry into their husbands family untainted. You see, he seduced my virgin sister and broke her heart in the process. Her reputation is now ruined because of him. He soiled her," he snarls, "he slept with her and left her pregnant."

She placed an unsteady arm over her knotted stomach. "Surely you're mistaken!"

He smiled grittily, "I'm afraid not. He goes around seducing women whenever it strikes his fancy."

Jasmine inhaled sharply. It was true her brother was a player. However he wasn't the type to make false promises. Most girls knew the deal when they involved themselves with him. As far as she understood both sides feelings were mutual regarding the one night stand arrangement. But slipping up and getting a girl pregnant? There had to be a mistake. Zayn would never do such a thing. He was always, always careful. He valued his bachelor lifestyle above eating and breathing. He wouldn't be stupid and slip like what Cristiano was describing.

She refused to believe him. He must be lying or his sister was lying to him.

Jasmine quickly regained some of her composure. "I don't know your sister. Furthermore, making empty promises in exchange for sex does not sound like my brother. Whatever happened between them must have been consensual. It's obvious she was not forced," she inquired with a lifted eyebrow, "or she would be saying otherwise. Perhaps some of us hold on to our virtues a little more strongly than others."

"He seduced her, coerced her! She knows better! We are Italian! We believe in bringing up a baby within a secure family unit. She wouldn't have willing slept with him–

Jasmine holds up her hand to stop him. "That's where the true test lies. Eve tempted Adam to eat with her from the forbidden tree. Although he was instructed to eat freely from all the other trees in the garden expect one. Your sister had a choice like any other knowing the consequences. Some of us abstain from weakness no matter how tempting it may be."

"You side with him?" He was practically seething with rage, his body language changing instantly. Standing erect, hands at his sides and slightly behind him, Cristiano looked like a wolf ready to pounce.

The hot headed Italian man she witnessed was back. But somehow she knew he wouldn't hurt her.

"No," shaking her head in denial and staying calm, "women flock around Zayn, they are naturally attracted to him–that I will not deny. If what you're saying is true and they were intimate. . . I'm assuming from all this, your sister fell in love with him hoping he'd have a change of heart and shackle him into marriage once they slept together?"

Cristiano could only regard her with stone cold eyes.

"I believe your sister conjured a fantasy in her head and ended vastly disappointed with the outcome. She should not have given herself to someone that way and at the same time I do not approve of my brother's actions. However, I think they are both at fault and she made a grave mistake."

"Yes, a mistake that has cost her her virtue and any chance of a future with another. He must do right by her! She is carrying his unborn child!"

"What if the child she carries is someone else's? Can she be sure? Do you really know your sister? Everybody has secrets. Just because she is your sibling doesn't mean she's innocent of curbing the truth to suit her needs." Jasmine states. It was difficult for her to comprehend what was the truth and what was the lie.

The realization of the unknown claim that her brother had a child on the way finally sank in. Her bones ached to the point of pain. She refused to believe it. It just couldn't be true. This whole thing didn't sound like Zayn.

People lie, patterns don't.

"A paternity test will prove it." He declares.

"Yes, but it cannot be done until the child is born. Furthermore, I will not be blamed nor will I be used for the irresponsible choices they've made. I understand your resentment and anger but it does not give you the right to use me, taunt me with messages to reach Zayn and satisfy your greed. Two wrongs doesn't make it right. Saying those wretched things to me with a hidden motive is unforgivable and I will never forget it!" She added bitterly.

Cristiano grimaced and shifted uncomfortably, his ridged stance deflating like a balloon. "I realize it was one of the lowest moments of my life and I was wrong in insulting you as I did, I thought–"

He acted all calm and charming one second and the next he looks like he's going to tear everything in his way apart and now he expected her to believe he felt a semblance of guilt after what he planned? Jasmine wanted to scream. Can he not see how sick and degrading he made her feel? Did he honestly think a simple 'sorry' would fix it all and make her forget?

"Lowest moments?" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "Did you honestly believe your sorry plan would work and I'd easily fall into your bed like you're accustomed to? You feel angry and hurt because of what happened to your sister? I cannot fathom how you would have allowed yourself to ruin me in the same manner you claim my brother left your sister, and not live with a guilty conscious for the rest of your life! I have my own moral values I believe in and follow. You had no right to pursue someone like me! It's pathetic, immature, and despicable of you!"

"You are right I was not thinking. . . Ah never mind," he said in a low, heavy voice. "What a bloody mess–I'm truly sorry about all of this Yasmina. You are a lady–a respectable one, and I believed if I had you–

"You wouldn't have gotten very far. I have high standards and require love and a marriage proposal before I would allow any man to touch me." Jasmine informs him quietly, while a blush involuntarily coats her over heated cheeks. She clears her throat in embarrassment. "Like I said earlier, some of us abstain from weakness no matter how tempting it may be."

"I do not do love, tesoro. I don't do commitment. I believe these things only exist in novels and the movies."

He was delusional. Who didn't believe in love? Jasmine internally scoffed. Love is a strong emotion and a precious one. Everyone is capable to it if only a person opened themselves to the raw emotion.

They were exact opposites in that aspect. For she saw what true love was between her parents Julien and Annie, and if one was around them you couldn't help but envy the passion and love they shared. Another prime example was her sister and her new husband. Their storybook romance is what people wish for and are only so fortunate to find.

"What about the woman you are with?" She inquired with a note of surprise remembering her with eyebrows raised. "Surely you–"

Cristiano shook his head. "It's complicated. An arrangement formed by our families years ago." He explained. "I'm expected to wed her, but I on the other hand, have different plans."

Jasmine stared at him wide eyed and couldn't believe his admission. The woman was his soon to be bride? He's complicated, she thought. This man standing before her was not someone who did sappy poems and hearts. Cristiano could be ruthless, yes, even cruel. He had that look in his eye. A heartless man whose main interest, even more than seducing women or adding to his pile of money, was destroying her brother–a man driven by his hunger for revenge. A very dangerous combination Jasmine didn't want to have any involvement with.

"You weren't even on my list of potential suitors," she replied haughtily eyeing him up and down, "and for your information love exists in all of us. Perhaps, you haven't found the right person to share it with."

He stared at her with wonder. Standing there wickedly handsome in his suit, devilish sharp features and those dark eyes appearing so lonely and miserable. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to feel disgusted by him. But all Jasmine felt drawn to him and it was unexplainable. He frightened her too much. He was too male. He was too dangerous for her. The wrong kind of man she should consider or even engage the thought of involving herself with in anyway. If she was ever going to have a relationship with any male, it should be a mild, unthreatening guy who wouldn't make demands, make her feel uncomfortable, and didn't insult her at their first meeting.

"You're positive I wasn't on that list?" The playful Cristiano was back as he lifted a fine dark eyebrow. He was looking her from the tip of her black stilettos and slowly raising his gaze all over her until he reached her eyes again. An arrogant, scoundrels half-smile broke over his face that seemed to say, I don't believe you.

Jasmine shook her head, not in anger or disappointment but how easily he switches from one emotion to the next. "You are positively unbelievable."

"And you're quite a woman."

She couldn't fight the pink blush flooding her cheeks. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Russo."

He took a step closer, and for a second she was certain he would kiss her. He was near enough that she could see the dark bristles of hair lining his firm jaw. She held her breath ready to fight him. Instead he reached for her hand, never breaking eye contact. Her breath hitched, watching him with wide eyed wonder as he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back like a well mannered gentleman.

His gaze seared into her soul.

"Accept my apology, Yasmina. I stand before you as a man, needing no more than your forgiveness and your friendship. Forgive me for all the horrible things I said. You deserve better than how I treated you. It was childish of me to act in such a low manner." He slid his cheek back and forth against her hand. His eyes still locked with Jasmine's, he kisses her palm and each finger.

The sweet sensations of his kisses zapped directly towards her middle, amazed at how the simple brush of his lips could make her tingle in so many places. Jasmine was hit by a vivid image of Cristiano and herself in bed together, her hair floating in a brown golden cloud across the tanned skin of his chest, while his legs twined intimately around hers. The picture set her pulse racing and her skin with heat again.

How was it possible she was attracted to this man? How?

She forced the intrusive picture away, struggling to speak coolly. "You're good with words, Mr. Russo, I'll give you that much." She was rather proud of the sophisticated way she managed to toss out that comment, trying to tug her hand free from his large warm one.

"Have dinner with me." He invited, in a husky sensual tone, his eyes half lidded watching her closely.

Jasmine was quickly learning Italian men were very insistent, stubborn, felt the need to control everything, and weren't afraid to express what's on their mind. And most importantly they are very touchy feely. Cristiano, on both occasions of meeting, was always touching her as though it was a form of communication.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I can't accept." She refused, not being able to tear her gaze away from his ruthless handsome face.

"Reconsider." His slow smile was packed with compelling male charm. He stared at her, searching her eyes before he tugged her forward until her chest nearly touched his, their faces only inches apart. "I promise to behave as a gentleman should."

"You should be ashamed of yourself." She says stiffening her body. "You are engaged remember? How would your fiancée feel if you asked another woman out? Are we only objects for your sexual pleasure?"

Before she could react and catching her by surprise, his free arm circled her waist as the other held strongly to hers in a vice grip. "Personally I prefer to make love to a woman, not simply to perform séxually. It is necessary for both partners to feel some measure of liking and affection. I believe we would have been exceptionally compatible had I hid my intentions from you." He admits softly, his brown eyes darkening. "I saw it in your eyes, Yasmina."

"You're trying to apologize and covey your intentions all over again?" She says, pushing at his chest with her free hand. "I would never have slept with you!"

"In our case now, that does not seem to be possible, no? I can feel the intense dislike coming from you and I dislike it. What I'm truly trying to say is: I find you more than attractive. Your level of sophistication and class outshines most females. I find it enchanting and very addicting on my senses. My intentions were not to insult you again, cara. I seem to have trouble keeping my thoughts to myself."

His breath brushed her cheek, sending waves of heat up and down her body.

"I'm sorry for mistreating you. But I find the more I see, the more I want." He admitted, searching her face and looking at her not as a victim or prey but as a challenging adversary.

Her gaze fell to his mouth. She licked her own lips unconsciously. Heaven help her, but even now, hating him as much as she did, she wanted to touch him and feel the strength of his muscles and the warmth of his skin. She wanted to lace her fingers through the thickness of his pitch black hair and pull him down to her, curious as how it would feel to taste the sweet hardness of his mouth. To feel his hand lift up her skirt and slowly move up her thigh and stoke her gently. The fantasy formed a sudden ache between the secret valley between her thighs.

Trembling from the fantasy and with incredible effort, she forced her body to stay still and betray nothing. What had come over her?

"Want and need are two very different things." She managed to say, keeping her eye level on his expensive black tie.

She felt his hand on her shoulder as he brushed back her hair with his fingers. Barely controlling her body's involuntary tremble at his touch, she blinked fast and retreated a step pressing her back against the wall of the small elevator. To her dismay he followed her steps and fully pressed against her where she felt every hard muscle through his suit. She sucked in her breath as a hard shiver rocked her body. Pressed against her as he was, he'd be able to feel the movement.

His tall frame blocked the light in the ceiling casting his face in shadow but it wasn't enough to hide the smug masculine smile he rewarded her with knowing the sexually charged energy between them was undeniable.

"Would you like that I needed you, Yasmina?" He murmured as leaned forward, lowering his head and touched the soft flesh of tender skin on her neck with his hot breath and soft lips. "Like an addiction to a drug where my body, my soul, cannot get enough of you?" His words were said in a scorching whisper against her skin as he placed a feather like kiss to her racing pulse. He had her cornered to a point if she moved in any way she would be pressed against his body.

Involuntarily, she closed her eyes. Yes, her body craved, licking her lips feeling the warmth of his breath and the lingering imprint of his kiss on her skin. She could smell his skin coated in his signature sweet scented cologne that made her yearn for him with a ferocity unknown to her. It was exquisite torture, making her dizzy, making her weak in the knees.

She felt his closeness and power over her and her brain hated it, even as her body longed to feel the pleasure of the flesh between a man and a woman, she was uncomfortable with the way her body reacted to him and he hadn't even kissed her yet. Fleetingly she wondered if she'd ever escape him. . . And worse, if she'd ever want to.

What the hell was wrong with her? Was she turning into one of those women who were attracted to dangerous, dark men?

Remember what he did to you. He wanted to own your body. He wanted to use you and abandon you. To make you suffer and leave you weak and broken. Remember the flowers and messages he sent to torture you.

With allowing him to touch her, she betrayed herself. All her defenses had burned to the ground. But she'd never let him see that. Never. Before she knew it, Cristiano began to trail peppered kisses along her jaw likely aiming for a kiss. She pressed her nails hard against her palms and without warning pulled her fists between them like a wedge and pushed his hard chest.

"What I need is for you to leave me alone, Mr. Russo." Addressing him formally to lessen the impact of what occurred between them and watching the desire swirl in his dark sensual eyes. "You use words as your weapon and I have never failed at anything in my life. I need one thing and one thing only–respect. No amount of flowers and no amount of words could amount to that. Nothing more, nothing less."

She stepped away from him without waiting for a reply and reached over to press the release button. The elevator powered back to life to her relief.

"Respect is earned, not given, no?" Cristiano finally spoke, close behind her. His hot breath fanned the back of her hair and it made her stiffen her spine, not at his proximity but his choice of words.

His words stung.

When has she given him a reason not to respect her? Was it that difficult for him to respect a woman with a good head on her shoulders who held herself with dignity? A woman that didn't reflect his own agenda and fall into his arms and into his bed only to be swayed by seductive words?

Jasmine was hoping he would have said, I respect you. But all he saw was a girl, a female, another conquest and she was so close to fall into his trap and prove his previous thoughts of her true.

She didn't quite look over her shoulder but shifted her head to the side. "You're right. It's earned. And you have yet to prove to me you know the meaning of the word. Believing someone requires trust and it's a privilege which is earned as well. Goodbye Mr. Russo."

The elevator doors open and she took it as her queue leaving him behind like the last time. For the last time.

"Ciao Bella." He whispers harshly, like the last time they left things, his eyes narrowing and filling with anger as she walks out the doors and swiftly turns out of sight. "Ciao."

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