SeductiveIntent Read Online Free PDF Page B

and eventually assume a role as full-fledged mistress, with car and
apartment and credit line all in her name. The friend would benefit of course.
Sarah would benefit. Even Brendan would benefit, she had said in her note since
she’d be sleeping with him just as much as she’d be sleeping with his friend
and whoever else she happened to take a fancy to on her own time.
    But he was so “sweet” and so “innocent” despite his skill in
bed that she just couldn’t find it in her to dupe him. And then when he started
talking marriage, the friend had pushed her to accept, obviously an even better
set-up. But she couldn’t. So she left.
    And the biggest favor dear little Sarah had ever done him
was to leave him that note. Whatever innocence he had left in him was long gone
after that.
     
    “You better go find out who she is, just in case, pal.”
    “Yeah,” Brendan agreed with a laugh. “It’s kind of my duty
seeing as how I’m brother of the bride.”
    “I’d try, but if you got your eye on her, I got no chance.”
    “You got to work on your confidence, buddy.”
    “Just stating a fact.”
    The mystery woman was wandering to the edge of the patio, as
if mysteriously being corralled off for his benefit. Perfect.
    “See you later.” Brendan approached the woman, who turned in
his direction at the last minute. Blue. Her eyes were a deep blue-green,
slanted up a little at the ends, which gave her an exotic look. Her skin was
golden, not with a tan, but suggesting a drop or two of Mediterranean blood in
her background.
    “Hi.” Always a good way to start. She gazed back at him
without returning the greeting, so he added, “You looked a little lost there so
I thought I’d volunteer my services.”
    “To do what?”
    Her voice was low and smoky. But oddly familiar.
    “Show you around. Are you a friend of the bride’s or the
groom’s?”
    “Neither,” she said, without further explanation.
    “Maybe friend isn’t quite the right word.”
    “If you want to know who I am, Mr. Beckett, just ask me.”
    “Ah, so you know me.”
    “Who doesn’t know the handsome Brendan Beckett?”
    “I’m flattered.”
    “You flatter easily.”
    He was taken up short. Not that he never got the brush-off
from women, it was just…well, no, it was that. He never got the brush-off from
women. At least not in recent memory since he’d passed puberty anyway.
    “Ouch,” he said with a laugh.
    “You wound easily too.”
    If this was the brush-off—and he was starting to feel as if
it might be—at least she wasn’t moving away. On the contrary, the girl seemed
rooted to the spot, just on the edge of the patio, staring only at him as
people passed by.
    “Any chance I can change your bad opinion of me?” he asked.
    “Who said I had a bad opinion of you?”
    “You like easily flattered, easily wounded guys?”
    “Ones that look like you, I guess.”
    Now that was more like it. He moved a little closer, leaning
his head down toward her. She had a fresh, lemony scent about her. “The
feeling’s mutual. Think of what beautiful children we’d have.”
    Okay, he admitted it. That was corny. But since he always
carefully used a condom in any encounter, it wasn’t as if he actually meant it.
And most girls seemed to like it.
    Not this one, though. “Does that line actually work?”
    He shrugged. “Sometimes. I usually only use it when I’ve had
too much champagne and only—and this is the important part—only at a wedding.”
Without being too obvious his eyes dipped slightly to take in her cleavage. He
swallowed, hard. When he looked back at her face, the smirk said she had noticed
his detour. Hell, he was only human. “Sometimes I don’t need a line at all.”
    “No? So what do you do? Just ask a girl to go to bed with
you?”
    He said nothing, smiling. She really was gorgeous, but her
flirting technique was a little odd.
    “Why don’t you try that with me?”
    “I’m sensing a trap here.”
    “Easily