Intercepted By Love: Part Four Part 20

Chapter 1.

"I'm not afraid of j.a.panese girls." Twenty-seven-year-old Teo Alexiou blinked in disbelief at his grandmother's onscreen image.

Oba-chan grinned toothily through the chat window. "Then why haven't you dated any?"

"Haven't gotten around to it. Too busy enjoying the women of the world."

"Last I looked, j.a.pan's still part of the world," Oba-chan said in her matter of fact voice, the one she'd used on Teo whenever he was too stubborn to pick up his toys or refused to wash his hands before dinner.

Teo wiped his fingers through his short-cropped hair. "Take a number. I'm still working my way through Europe and Latin America."

It wasn't that he had anything against j.a.panese women. After all, he was part j.a.panese, thanks to Oba-chan, but knowing his grandmother, any dalliance with a j.a.panese woman would carry expectations-expectations a young, single, swinging motorcycle racer was unprepared to fulfill.

"You're taking too long," Oba-chan said. "I'm not getting any younger. Do you think it makes me happy to see you with all those party girls? Two or three on each arm. It shames me that your father didn't instill more honor into you."

Why would his father, a Greek billionaire, waste his time instilling honor and respect when the world was full of jets, yachts, and continents of s.e.xy women?

Teo felt like reminding granny that she was the one who'd raised his father. She couldn't fix him from his playboy ways. Was it any surprise Teo's Filipina mother left him with his grandmother and joined a convent?

Being traumatized at such a young age, try three, made Teo a crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.d. If it wasn't for Oba-chan and racing, he would have joined the ranks of the drug addled billionaire boys' clubs.

"What do you want me to do?" He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Oba-chan had an uncanny way of extracting her pound of flesh from anything he promised.

Her catlike grin elongated as she stroked her cheek with one long fingernail. "My eightieth birthday's coming up. Your father's thinking of surprising me with a gala party at one of his properties. I prefer Beverly Hills over Paris. It's going to be sw.a.n.k."

Sweat erupted under Teo's collar, and he swallowed hard. She was setting him up. No doubt. The longer her prefaces, the bigger the deal. That woman was seriously scary. How would she know what his father was planning?

"I can go to a party, no problem," Teo said. He made a show of glancing at his watch and yawned. "It's getting late here. I have a race tomorrow."

"I know." Oba-chan leaned into the webcam, making her face take the shape of a wide-eyed guppy. "Move your camera around. I want to see your bed. Is it occupied?"

He swung his front-facing camera at his empty bed. What did she think? That he'd distract himself the night before a race? Hadn't she taught him to quiet his mind and meditate? Preserve his concentration?

One micro-second was all it took to wipe out and crash. Of course after the race, all bets were off and his bed became a revolving door.

"Good boy, you're redeemable," Oba-chan said. "As I was saying, my birthday party is in three months. My challenge, should you be brave enough to accept, is for you to bring a girlfriend."

Teo's stomach took a flying loop. Girlfriend was not in his vocabulary. Hook-up, vacation fling, one-nighter, friends with benefits, groupie, yes, groupies were the best, they even came in pairs or triplets.

"A date to your party? Piece of cake." Teo put on his most charming grandson smile.

"Not just any date, a relations.h.i.+p. From now until my birthday, you're to find and hold onto a real girlfriend. Got it?"

"Yeah, well, sure. How do you define a real relations.h.i.+p?" p.r.i.c.kly heat wiggled under his skin like the feet of a million centipedes. Even though he was only one-quarter j.a.panese, he still respected his elders and wanted to please his grandmother.

"I have my ways," Oba-chan deadpanned. "I'll know if it's not real. Don't cross me. Three months. Think you can stick to one woman?"

He heard the sound of knuckles cracking, something his grandmother always did before applying the belt of correction back in the days when she brought him up. What she was asking him was impossible given his sport.

"I'm on the road, a different race circuit every two weeks. Qatar, Australia, Malaysia, Argentina."

Oba-chan wagged her finger. "You have all this technology and oodles of cash. Surely you can afford to fly her to your races. I think you're scared."

No way. He liked women he could take or leave, but he wasn't afraid. He just didn't have the time or energy to invest in a relations.h.i.+p.

"I can afford a lot of things," he said. "Sticking to one woman isn't something I want."

"It's because of your mother, isn't it?" Oba-chan's nostrils flared. "You have to remember, she didn't leave you, she left your father."

Same difference. She'd left both of them, except Papa hadn't cared. Teo's heart twisted with that old, familiar pain. He didn't want to be disrespectful, but the conversation was over. He'd agree and deal with it later.

"I'll do it." He puffed up his lips. "Only until your birthday, then I'm breaking it off."

"Fair enough. I expect you to ... how do you kids say it these days ... to 'hook up' with someone right away."

"Hai, Oba-chan!" He saluted her. "Anything else?"

"Nope, she doesn't even have to be j.a.panese. Sayonara."

Amy Suzuki dipped her manicured fingertips in Tabasco sauce. How the heck was she going to land an acting job if she kept chewing her nails to the bone?

"Yow, that looks lethal," Peter, her roommate, said. "It's the same principle with cat repellant, except it won't work if you actually like hot, spicy food."

"Who's going to be there again?" Amy wiped her fingers with a napkin and cinched up her mesh swimming bag. Cras.h.i.+ng a pool party held by one of the biggest directors in Hollywood called for subtlety. Of course it helped that Peter was one of the lackeys, or as he called himself, a PA, or personal a.s.sistant. More like personal a.s.s-kisser, but hey, at least he knew the gatekeepers at Amanda Silver's pool party.

Peter snapped a towel at her. "All the most influential directors and agents, not to mention the Queen Bee herself."

Amanda was as old as Hollywood, but a nod from her could mean a bit part in a miniseries, or a stint on a cable network drama, a decent start.

"Sure this is going to work?" Amy tugged her bikini straps in place. "I need to land a part soon or I'm on the streets."

Peter quirked a flamboyant eyebrow. "Did I hear you right? You're finally going to let me pimp you?"

"Stop it!" She slapped him playfully. Peter, her best friend, was always joking around, especially since he'd covered her rent since graduation. Rent she was determined to pay back.

Amy's stomach curled with anxiety. Her parents weren't happy she hadn't landed a job, as if anyone other than engineers and business students had jobs lined up directly out of college. It was either find a "real" acting gig, or go back home and live under their thumb. Cutting off funds was a sure way to add pressure.

"Waterproof mascara coming up." Peter waved the wand in her face.

Amy obediently leaned over the kitchen counter and let him deftly apply the lash lengthening strokes. She should be counted lucky to have a roomie interested in cosmetology, although here, in Los Angeles, men were always perfecting their makeup skills on anyone who'd let them.

"While we wait for that to dry, let's do the moisturizer." Peter squeezed a dollop on his fingertip and dabbed it over her face. "You've such pretty, porcelain skin. Don't want to ruin it."

"I'll stay under the umbrellas," Amy said. Where other actresses sported the tans needed to portray beach girls, Amy was of j.a.panese descent and the roles she tried for required paler geisha-like skin.

"Not with the sunscreen I'm about to apply." Peter bent under the counter and pulled out a supersized container of SPF gadzillion sunblock.

For the next forty minutes, Peter covered Amy from head to toe with sunscreen, then finished with her foundation, eye shadow, and lip gloss.

"Ta dum! The ultimate natural look, makeup without looking made up," he proclaimed with a loud smack, kissing his own palm. "You're fit to be the next princess on Game of Thrones."

"Only if they write in a j.a.panese one," Amy grumbled, flipping her sungla.s.ses over her eyes.

The movie industry these days were no longer interested in martial arts films, preferring epic fantasies which unfortunately were populated by Caucasian fairies, elves, hobbits, dwarves, and wizards.

Peter grabbed her hand and twirled her around. "You're going to be a star. I know it. Let's get our a.s.ses to the party and wow them."

[end of excerpt]

To read on, please pick up Roaring Hot today!.

Also by Rach.e.l.le Ayala.

Michal's Window.

Roaring Hot!

The Remingtons: Leap, Laugh, Love Chance for Love.

Broken Build Hidden Under Her Heart Knowing Vera.

Sanchez Sisters Taming Romeo Claiming Carlos.

Jewells in Love.

Whole Latte Love Sports Romances.

Played by Love Playing the Rookie Playing Without Rules Intercepted by Love Christmas Novellas.

A Father for Christmas Christmas Flirt Christmas Stray Non-Fiction.

Romance In A Month 366 Ways to Know Your Character.

Acknowledgments.

Intercepted by Love was designed from the start to be a serial novel delivered in parts. I had a lot of fun preparing the cliffhanger and structuring the story this way. Of course, my beta readers and fellow writers in my Romance In A Month writer's group helped me with early feedback and comments to hone this story for the hopefully surprising cliffhangers.

Many thanks to: Jessica Ca.s.sidy, Amber McCallister, Sarah Miles, Debbie Rosa, Sharon Coady, Marie Smith, Keli Morgan, Tope Awofeso, Racquel Reck, Rebecca Austin, Terri Merkel, Corrisa Palfrey, and Dana Anderson for their awesome feedback as well as guidance while I was writing Cade and Andie's stories. Their comments and remarks helped me know whether I was. .h.i.tting the right note or not. I'd also like to thank Kimberly Dawn for proofreading.

Thanks also my high school football team who instilled in me a great love and respect for athletes. We were the Banning Pilots, All City Champions, and I'm proud to have been one of the team managers and friends with the wonderful guys on our team.

I will especially miss my friends, Joe Montijo (#10), Leroy Irvin (#23), and Ronnie Settles (#37), who have pa.s.sed on way too early. This story is dedicated to them, although all characters and events inside are purely fictional. Thanks guys for being the heroes we looked up to, and being humble and down to earth. Go Pilots!

About the Author.

Rach.e.l.le Ayala is a bestselling author of dramatic romantic suspense and humorous, s.e.xy contemporary romances. Her heroines are feisty and her heroes hot. She writes emotionally challenging stories but believes in the power of love and hope.

Rach.e.l.le is the founder of an online writing group, Romance in a Month, an active member of the California Writer's Club, Fremont Chapter, and a volunteer for the World Literary Cafe. She is a very happy woman and lives in California with her husband. She has won awards in multicultural and historical romance.

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