Yours for the Night Read Online Free PDF

have a made-from-scratch meal ready when her hubby got home, a clean house, perfect kids, such a lady, but ooh, once the bedroom door closed, she’d morph into a whore for him, keeping their sex life spicy. He’d never stray. That was her fantasy. Isabel hadn’t said a word. A flush heated Marianna’s face. “I was just kidding.” She tried to smile it away. Then she dove on the next thing that came into her mind. “How about a little exhibitionism?” She shrugged. “Not so much being totally out there, but the possibility of being caught, doing it in risky places.” Like playing naughty out in the deep woods where you think you’re the only hikers around. Except you’re not. Oh yeah, she’d had that fantasy with her imaginary Prince Charming. “Or vice versa, walking in on someone, they don’t see me, and I watch.” She’d had that fantasy with her dream man, too, sitting out on their hotel balcony and looking straight into someone else’s room to catch them. Or an office building. An apartment house. Somewhere they could watch, and get naughty themselves.
    Isabel made a few notes on her tablet. “Very interesting. Risky places and voyeurism are universal fantasies. I’m sure we’ll easily find several matches.”
    Marianna shivered. “You mean I’m hired?”
    “We don’t hire you, we don’t pay you, we simply match you, with the client 26
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    taking care of the matching fee. I’ve got a few more questions, about your personal preferences as to age of your escort, et cetera, but I believe everything will work out. I’ll supervise your first few matches personally.”
    Oh God. She’d just committed herself.
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    4

    THREE DAYS LATER, TWO OF WHICH SHE’D SPENT IN “TRAINING” AT
    Courtesans—she’d found it quite fascinating—Marianna surveyed herself in her vanity mirror.
    “You must be crazy,” she whispered.
    “You’ll be great.” Jewel popped her head around the bathroom doorjamb from where she’d been primping. “But if you do freak out, I’ll be there to talk you down.”
    “Sure, I’ll be just peachy,” Marianna muttered. She was scared spitless, but at the same time her panties were damp.
    A Saturday night party. In the city. A limousine would pick them up in half an hour. She’d read her date’s profile a hundred million times since Isabel sent it to her yesterday. Brock Ransom—the name sounded fake. He was midfifties, 165
    pounds, five-eleven, unmarried. Yeah, right.
    She gazed at his photo. At least she didn’t recognize him. And she had told Isabel she liked older men. “He’s not exactly Mr. America.” Or Prince Charming.
    “You can’t judge someone by the package they come in. While looks get a second glance, what’s really attractive is up here.” Jewel tapped her temple. Marianna hoped so. While she was given his picture, he did not get hers. The agency protected their courtesans’ anonymity. Isabel had even armed Marianna with a cell phone, paid for by Courtesans, so that her true name, phone number, or location would never appear anywhere for a client to track her down. It was her choice as to whether she used her real name.
    “If you’re not attracted, don’t do anything.” Jewel paired her words with a shrug.
    To match his height, Marianna had chosen black suede pumps with a twoinch heel. Short and flared, her sparkly black cocktail dress flirted with the lace of her thigh-high stockings as she twirled in front of the mirror.
    “You look perfect,” Jewel reinforced.
    Marianna was sure she couldn’t have done this on her own. She’d never even get into the limo. But Jewel wasn’t going to let her cry off, she knew. “I like your red velvet.”
    The dress was strapless, a plunging cowl neckline gracefully draping Jewel’s 28
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    ample breasts. Tight around her waist and butt, the velvet fell in sinuous lines to her matching high-heeled sandals. Jewel’s glossy black