Read Bedded by the Italian Playboy for Free Online

said aloud. “He’d chuck you out faster than last week’s
rubbish.”
    With
a frown she stood up, moved through to the second room—bigger, in fact, than her entire flat—and over to the bar area just off to
the side of the huge dining table. The concealed mini-fridge was stocked full.
Water, of course, in little glass bottles that were icy cold. About a half
dozen different juices with fruits Rachel didn’t even recognize. And then there
were mini chocolate bars, also cold and so rich she’d almost moaned when she
tried one.
    Dominic
had urged her to. “Everything here is for your own use,” he’d said. “And it
would please me to see you use it.”
    “Why?”
she’d asked.
    “To
ease my guilt perhaps?” he’d said. “Or maybe just to make you smile.”
    She’d
shivered at those words, a combination of heat and ice-cold fingers travelling
over her body. Not just because of his words but because it seemed as though
Dominic felt in her debt and that could only be a good thing, right? She’d
accepted his offer to stay in the hotel and even his offer to replace her
clothes, all with a demure shake of her head and protestations he cut off as
soon as they formed. He’d sent a woman, call me Lucinda, to her suite and
Rachel had explained the whole situation to her. The older woman had gasped,
sighed and then made an extensive list of all the things Rachel might need for
her stay in the city. Rachel had looked the list over, halved it and then
passed it back. That was over an hour ago and now it was just a question of
waiting for those things to arrive.
    “They’ll
be here before bed time,” Lucinda had said.
    She
didn’t doubt the woman’s word. Likely they’d arrive any moment and then she
could shower away the grime of the
London
pavement and dress in something other than her now ruined outfit.
    “What
then?” she wondered aloud as she poured herself another glass of ice water.
“What will happen then?”
    The mission.
    Rachel
nodded inwardly as she took a sip of the water. She would start the mission and
she’d start it feeling nervy and excited and, weirdly, kind of fine. Her
headache, at least, was gone. Her palms were feeling much better after she
rubbed some cream into them. Physically she was all good, ready to get started,
and to do that she needed to see Dominic again, but more than that, she needed
other people to see her with him. It
was all good and well picking his pocket but pointless if someone stopped her
when she headed off to his office to help herself to his cash!
    It
was all about building the right persona.
    Playing
the game.
    Working
the angles.
    Rachel
played back her conversation with Dominic and marveled, as if from a distance,
at the lies she’d told. In the end, though, it had been far easier than she’d
imagined because, while she sat in the amazing suite whilst the doctor checked
her over and fed her painkillers, at last the feelings of outrage that Penny
and Lyra spoke of so often had come to her also. There she was surrounded by
extravagance. A bed so soft she practically sank into it. Fabrics that probably
cost more per square inch than most normal people made in a week. And all the
while, just a few miles down the road people—people she knew—lived in abject
poverty. Families couldn’t afford to eat, to pay their bills, to put the
heating on. They literally lived hand to mouth. And here, in this plush hotel,
the rich could look at golden walls and see the light sparkling off crystal
chandeliers.
    It
was unfair.
    It
was immoral.
    Dominic
Rimeria had billions of pounds in his various bank accounts. Billions! Of
course she should take some of that money from him. It was a miniscule amount
that she needed in the grand scheme of things. He wouldn’t even notice it and
yet it would make such a difference to so many people’s lives. She could do
this! She would do this! And if her
stomach rolled and her hands shook and she found herself unable to look into
his eyes