Quit Playing Games (English)

Lara quickly got to know him, not because his father described him so much that it was impossible for her not to recognize him, but because even though he stands behind the crowd he dominates the crowd who’s waiting for the newly arrived passengers at Manila City International Airport. He was over six feet tall, with a muscular body and blessed with a gentle face that resembled an angel who fell from heaven. At a glance you can immediately tell that he was the type of man who was envied by other men, and women were willing to fight for.

As if on cue, he looked at her. He stared at her for a moment, long enough for the shiver to roll in her chest. Every part of her brain and sanity reminded her that this man is dangerous and will only bring her pain. He nodded, as if he knew the effect he had on her and parted with the people in front of him, walking towards her.

She couldn't help but stare at him, the way he wore his pants exposed his narrow hips and long legs, the way his black leather jacket rode smoothly over his powerful shoulders, and the startling contrast of his throat rising strong and tanned against the open collar of his white shirt. As he approached, she also clearly saw the shape of his mouth and jaw, his mustache and beard beginning to grow, showing the stubbornness of his head mentioned by his father.

When he approached them, he asked in a voice as sinfully seductive as the rest of him, “So you beat the odds and made it back in one piece. How was the trip?

"It's tiring." Rocco replied, feeling pain and tiredness in the tone of his voice. Painkillers and even the luxury of first-class air travel have not been enough to alleviate the discomfort he felt. “Very long. But as you can see, I have a guardian angel beside me.” He reached over his shoulder, reached out her hand and squeezed it affectionately. “Lara, my dear, I am pleased to introduce you to my son, Christian. And this, Chris, is my nurse, Lara Torres. I don't know what would have happened to me without her.”

Again, Christian Imperial stares at her, touring the length of her in insolent appraisal. Behind his gaze and beautiful eyes can be seen a certain arrogance. He was not a man willing to humble himself, she thought. "Glad to meet you, Lara Torres," he said.

Even though the dress she was wearing was enough to cover her entire body, she felt like she was naked in the way he stared. His eyes were the problem, she thought dizzily. It was brown like his father, as she expected, they added an arresting final touch to a face already possessed of more than its rightful share of dark beauty.

She swallowed before being able to reply, "Nice to meet you too."

His gentle face and beautiful smile cause weakness to her knees. For heaven's sake, what's happening to her? She was twenty-seven years old, and if not exactly the most sexually experienced woman in the world, she was also not innocent in that matter. She knew well enough that outward appearance didn’t matter. A man’s good character was of greatest importance, and from the stories his father told her, it is sad that Christian Imperial was a man with no respect for others.

The behavior he showed in talking to his father Rocco Imperial caused her to lose her attraction for him. He did not even bother to hug his father, so that by simply tapping his shoulder or holding his hand, the old man could at least feel that he had a child whom he could count on and was ready to support him in time of need. Instead he ordered a porter to carry their luggage carried by a flight attendant. "Well, since we've already had enough introductions and greetings, let's get out of here," he marched towards the exit, leaving Lara to follow Rocco.

Only when they arrived at the waiting Mercedes did he betray a hint of compassion. "Don't," he ordered as she helped her patient get out of the wheelchair and with surprising tenderness, he lifted his father in his arms, carefully laid him in the backseat and covered his feet with a blanket. "You didn't have to do that," Rocco snapped, unable to hide the pain he was feeling.

When Christian noticed this he immediately said, “Apparently I did. Or do you prefer me to just stand up and not help and just watch you fall in the ground?”

"I would love to be able to stand on my own two feet without the help of others."

“Then you should have taken better care of yourself while you were away — or else had the good sense to stay home in the first place, instead of deciding you had to see Alaska before you die.”

Lara wanted to kick the man in front of her, but had no power to do so instead she just stared at him. “Accidents happen, Mr. Imperial.”

"You’re right. Especially to globe-trotting eighty-six-year-old men."

“It is not his fault if the ship ran aground and he was the only passenger injured. Everything should also be considered, and given his age, your father’s done amazingly well. At the right time, and with adequate follow-up physical therapy, he will definitely recover.”

"And what if not?"

"Then I guess you're going to have to step up to the plate and start acting like a proper son."

His eyes twinkle with attractive long lashes. “Nurse and family counselor all rolled into one,” he drawled. "How lucky is that?"

"Well, you did ask."

"And you told me." He tipped the porter, he left to return the borrowed wheelchair to the airport, then slammed closed the car trunk and opened the front passenger door. "Hop in. Let’s just continue this conversation later.”