Passionate Persuasion (Entangled Indulgence) Read Online Free PDF Page A

patrons—a man of distinguished grey temples and expensive designer suit—leaving Kiara, for the moment, alone.
    She returned to the bar, handed the bartender her untouched glass of wine and said, “Take this and give me another bourbon.”
    He did, but before she could hand him her cash, someone else beat her to it. A black-clad arm reached past her, giving the bartender a credit card. “Another one of those for me,” said Alex-effing-Drake. “And put them both on my tab.”
    Kiara glared up at him. She was wearing lower heels tonight, and she’d forgotten he was so tall. “High handedness isn’t going to earn your way back into my good graces,” she said.
    He put his elbow on the bar top, laced his fingers, and crossed one foot over his standing leg, the absolute picture of ease and innocence. “I hear from the rumor mill that we are ‘all good.’ So why can’t I buy you a drink?”
    “Oh my gawd,” she said, once she picked her jaw back up. “Are you serious? I barely had time to get over here and order a drink.”
    His mouth curved in a sexy, conspiratorial smile. “Someone was anxious to run over and get my take on the matter.”
    Kiara rolled her eyes. “Was it that lady wearing the fascinator, like she’s going to a royal wedding?”
    “Is that what you call those birds’ nest things women wear perched on their heads? Then yes.”
    She pressed her lips together over a smile of her own. “That’s not nice.”
    “But it’s true.” He picked up both their drinks and handed her one. It was completely unfair how good he looked in a suit, the stark black of his coat and white of his shirt making his eyes look bluer, the lines of his face more sculpted. He was handsome, but it was more—it was always—how comfortable he was in his own skin that made him so sexy.
    “Thanks for being so nice about the drink throwing debacle,” she said.
    Something about that seemed to amuse him. “Yeah, well, since I kicked off the debacle with my bad behavior, being nice is the least I could do.”
    “Yes, but—” she started, but he straightened from his pretend slouch on the bar, bringing him into dangerous proximity. Dangerous for her pulse rate, anyway.
    “Hey,” he said, sort of looming over her, but in a good way. A way she didn’t want to admit she liked. “Is the gossip wrong? Are we not good?”
    “Well,” she said, with a deep swallow that he followed with his gaze, which made her heart beat even faster. “If that’s what everyone is saying, it must be true.”
    “Okay.” He shifted his weight back without really moving, but it changed his whole vibe to something both close and comfortable. “Then let’s stop trying to outdo each other with the apologies.”
    The gallery where the reception was being held was a big, drafty place, but they stood in a little warm bubble of intimacy. A pianist at the baby grand in the corner was playing something more elevator than Elgar, but it wasn’t enough to cover the thump of her heart.
    “I don’t know what else to say.” She meant other than “I’m sorry,” but it came out way more general than that. More specific to that moment and the horrible, wonderful, eighteen-again way he made her feel.
    “Say, ‘Thank you for the drink, Alex.’”
    The smile in his voice prodded one to her own lips, and she risked a look up at him. “Thank you for the drink, Alex,” she said, and took another sip.
    His gaze dropped to her mouth, long enough for her to notice. Long enough for her to know he wanted her to notice. She bit her lip to ease the lingering tingle that was half alcohol and half the impact of his attention.
    “You’re not playing tonight?” he asked.
    “What?” she asked, with a guilty start, because she’d been flirting with him and she knew it.
    But he didn’t sound like he was accusing her of playing games. He pointed to the pianist tucked out of the way. “No chamber quartet?”
    “Oh. No. There’s a big preview benefit dinner