Silent Whisper Read Online Free Page A

matter after my parents had died.
    So Dominic had taken me to a later Mass, never batting an eye when Father O’Neal had given him ‘the look’ and shook his head ever so slightly as we greeted him in the vestibule afterwards.
    My thoughts were interrupted when my phone rang.
    “Karlie,” his voice greeted, and my heart immediately skipped a beat. “I want you to put on the new red dress that I bought for you. We’re going out tonight to celebrate.”
    “Celebrate? Can I ask just what it is we’re celebrating?” I asked with a giggle since it had only been several hours since we had last talked.
    “My birthday,” he said. “I turn thirty tomorrow and I want you with me to celebrate it tonight. Just the two of us.”
    “But, I mean what about—”
    “No argument, mio amore bello. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
    And that was “Accessible me.”
    “Accessible Me” found it nearly impossible to say no to him. Loving his spontaneity, irked that he had never even told me when his birthday was, forgiving him when he spoke those little chunks of Italian to me that totally melted my heart.
    And that was starting to be a big problem for me. That was not how this was supposed to be. This was not what I had signed up for—or so I had thought.

c h a p t e r 3
    I sat across from Dominic in the dimly lit restaurant, watching how the lit candle on our table flickered romantically, making his dark features even more dangerously sexy.
    “So,” I said, my chin resting on my hand as I gazed over at him. “If I would’ve known your birthday was coming up, I would’ve bought you a present, surprised you with something,” I finished. “But then again, it would really just be me buying you something with your own damn money I guess.”
    He stopped sipping his glass of red Merlot to peer over at me, quirking a brow in confusion.
    “Is there something you want to tell me, Karlie? Are you upset for some reason?”
    “No, well yeah, I guess there is,” I replied, now placing my hands in my lap. “I don’t like this arrangement anymore. I feel like I’m living in some vacuum. No, it’s more than that, I feel like I’m playing some major part in a sick play and I’ve forgotten my lines and I don’t even care if I remember them anymore,” I blurted, my face flushing with embarrassment because I knew damn well that I was babbling like an idiot.
    He was silent.
    Watching me, his eyes narrowed just a bit as if he were trying to interpret my sudden mood change and idiotic diatribe.
    “It’s not enough,” I sighed. “I want more.”
    I saw his face relax just a bit, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He leaned in closer, his eyes searching mine.
    “Baby,” he breathed, “If you need more of an allowance all you have to do is ask. I can’t read minds.”
    I looked up abruptly, bringing my hands back to the table. “It’s not the fucking money, for Christ’s sake. I want—no, I need to be a part of something. I want to earn my money the right way. I don’t want to continue being a paid… whore. I’m twenty years old and when I look forward, I just don’t see my future.”
    His hand reached across the table and covered mine. “Don’t ever again refer to yourself as a whore, do I make myself clear?”
    He squeezed my hand ever so slightly for a response. I couldn’t look at him. I simply nodded my head.
    “Because I’ve never, ever treated you like a whore, have I? I provide for you, I protect you, I take good care of you and I treat you well. What more can I give to you that I haven’t already?”
    “I need some self-respect,” I replied. “And that? That is simply something that only I can give to myself. I don’t feel good about what I’m doing, what I’m allowing you to do,” I said softly. “It’s not right, and you know it.”
    He looked down at his steepled hands, and was silent for a moment. When he looked back up, I could see the emotion in his eyes.
    “It’s because I never tell you that