Enraptured Read Online Free PDF

drift. And going by the other woman’s stifled
gasp, it was clear she did.
    Sympathy for Sharlene and the life she must share with this
man softened any ill will toward her. Brandy could only hope the nasty displeasure
stamped into every hard crevice on Calvin’s face wouldn’t see his wife harmed.
But his focus wasn’t on his wife. It was all on her.
    A pulse beat into life at his temple, his hands curling into
fists. “Listen to me, you little—”
    “I believe we have a meeting early next week,” Blaine said
in an undertone that somehow oozed authority right along with the threat of
reprisal.
    Calvin pulled himself together, at least outwardly. He all
but bowed to the alpha when he nodded stiffly and said, “I’ll be there.”
    Blaine looked anything but appeased. “See that you are.”
When he took her arm once again and escorted her away from the pair of
piranhas, he murmured, “Are you okay?”
    She looked up at his taut face. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with
worse.”
    Calvin had seen to that.
    Blaine’s eyes narrowed, dangerously assessing. “Your job?”
    She shivered, aware that Blaine was far more lethal than
anything Calvin could muster. But she didn’t answer, didn’t feel the need to
explain herself or her chosen career. Except her silence seemed answer enough.
    His mouth tightened. “You know you don’t need to do what you’re
doing. Not anymore.”
    She inhaled sharply. He didn’t need to say the words, didn’t
need to tell her he’d look after her. But why did he think being his mistress
would be so much better? She’d still be getting paid for sex, the only
difference being that it would be singular instead of plural.
    And then what?
    Nothing. She’d be right back to square one again the moment
he’d had enough of her.
    No. She couldn’t rely on anyone but herself. She’d already
learned that the hard way.
    As though knowing he’d pushed her far enough, Blaine changed
tactics and asked, “Would you care to dance?”
    The dance floor was empty, but sensing Sharlene’s and Calvin’s
eyes still boring into her back, she knew she needed to fight fire with fire.
Screw them. Let them watch. She wasn’t going to make excuses. She loved sex,
loved her job. She wasn’t going to let another person’s judgments make her feel
inferior or ashamed in any way.
    When were men like Calvin going to realize they paid their
unhappy wives a whole hell of a lot more than any call girl to satisfy their
needs?
    She lifted her chin. Better to stay than run scared. “I’d
love to.”
    His eyes glinted with satisfaction and something else,
something not quite definable when he smiled and she stepped into his arms. Her
belly fluttered. Sometimes she could swear she glimpsed more than lust in
Blaine’s stare, something deeper, especially of late. It was those times she
had to remind herself she was a call girl and that men rarely saw beyond that
label.
    No matter that Blaine thought he wanted a longer-term
arrangement, she’d still be nothing more than a paid mistress. She wasn’t
girlfriend material. She’d gone into the business with her eyes wide open,
aware of what she was getting into.
    She’d made her bed…
    A slow melody started up, but Brandy scarcely noticed. She
was too attuned to Blaine and his strong feelings for her. His interest was the
last thing she needed, especially knowing this would be their last night
together. Yet somehow it didn’t stop the glow from spreading inside.
    Just remember you’re nothing more to him than his whore
or his mistress. Revel in the time spent with him while you can.
    She pushed away all reservation and instead concentrated on
following Blaine’s lead. He was a fabulous dancer. While she’d had enough
lessons to make her passable in any given situation, she knew with Blaine in
charge they moved fluidly across the floor, his big, adept hand on the bared
skin of her back, her skirts swishing.
    And all the while dozens of admiring eyes followed