Passionate Persuasion (Entangled Indulgence) Read Online Free Page A

little crazy now, in a juvenile, I want all the candy sort of way, to think that Kiara 1.0 was still inside that cool composed woman in the photo.
    Alex hadn’t heard Greg approaching until he heard his appreciative “Whoa” from over his shoulder. “Why did you break up with her again?”
    Because a lot of reasons, but he summed it all up with, “Because I was an idiot, obviously.”
    His friend’s hand came down on his shoulder in a comforting, fraternal slap. “Well, that’s no news to me. What are you going to do now?”
    That was a good question.
    He couldn’t pursue her after this. It would be dickish, even for him. He’d send an apology in email, and she’d read it or she wouldn’t. He could only hope that when she did run into him again—Port Calypso wasn’t so big that he could be sure that would never happen—it wasn’t with a sharp object.
    “I guess it’s her next move,” Alex said, still staring at the computer screen.
    “Dude,” said Greg. “You’d better hope her next move isn’t to cut off your balls.”

Chapter Three
    “I can castrate a bull, you know.”
    Sophie Russell, Kiara’s best friend since forever, put a well manicured hand on hers. “Ki, sweetie, we’ve talked about how you shouldn’t say things like that outside of Christmas dinners around your family table or what have you.” The press of fingers became a condescending pat. “Now have a martini and you’ll feel better.”
    Kiara didn’t want a martini. She wanted a bourbon. She wanted a lot of bourbon, but they were at a reception celebrating the announcement of the new arts season—symphony, theater, and gallery exhibits—and that meant it was a working night for her, even if Magdalena, her cello, was at home.
    “White wine,” she told the young man behind the cash bar. He reminded her of the bartender at Alex’s pub, which made her stomach drop in embarrassment—would she ever not feel six years old when she remembered her awful behavior?
    “I can’t believe I threw a drink,” she said, for about the hundredth time. And that was just the times she’d said it aloud.
    “Honey, he deserved it.” Sophie pulled enough cash for her drink out of her evening bag. “He broke your heart.”
    “Eight years ago, and that’s not the point.” She laid her elbows on the bar and sagged onto them. “I’m so over him.”
    “Yes,” said Sophie. “I can tell that by the way he was able to make you so mad.”
    Kiara caught herself slumping and heard her sixth-grade cello teacher’s voice in her head, telling her to stand up straight. So she did. “It’s just the way he broke up with me. No explanation. No closure .”
    “Hmmm,” said Sophie, checking her texts. “Maybe he was just a womanizing jerk who didn’t deserve you?”
    “Isn’t college when you’re supposed to be a womanizer?” Kiara asked, rhetorically, then gestured to Sophie. “Or a man-izer, as the case may be? It’s just so weird, because he treated me really well while we were dating. Then… pfft. We should just be friends.”
    “Some friend—still toying with your feelings eight years later.”
    Kiara self-consciously touched the crystal-tipped hairpins holding up her updo. “I overreacted. I shouldn’t have behaved like a tacky reality TV person. The Real Housewife Hicks from Kansas. Not…” She gestured to herself, made up and dressed up in a chic little black dress that she’d gotten in a vintage clothing boutique in Paris. She liked to imagine it came from the wardrobe of an Audrey Hepburn movie. Maybe it had, maybe it hadn’t, but it made her feel strong and confident when she had to appear out from behind her cello.
    But her point was, “Girls who are maybe sharing a wardrobe with Audrey Hepburn do not throw drinks at people.”
    The bartender had been about to give her the glass of wine, but he pulled it back to eye her suspiciously. Kiara narrowed her gaze at him, and he handed it over with a just-kidding smile.