Wild for You Read Online Free Page A

she could visit here more often, but even though she's eighty-three years young, the long plane ride over is tough on her. We usually Skype on Sundays, but it's not the same as being able to pop in and visit her."
    "Do your parents live in Argentina, too?"
    "No, but we're not close anyway. My mom left us when I was little. She ran off with my dad's best friend."
    He regarded her with a pensive look. "That must have been rough on you."
    Marisol shrugged. "I was little. Papi remarried a woman who didn't want kids either, like my loving mom didn't." She made a wry face to cover up how much it hurt her to admit. She'd been lucky to have a loving grandmother raise her. "My brother witnessed most of their fights and would have been shipped off to boarding school if Abuelita hadn't intervened and taken us in." She noticed he was staring at her as if trying to figure her out. "I know it sounds like I had a tragic childhood, but it wasn't like that."
    "I didn't think so." The corners of Clay's firm mouth twitched. "You're too cheerful for someone who had."
    "That's my natural disposition. Anyway, I was too young to notice all the bad stuff going on. Papi lives in Spain now with his new trophy wife and I'm embarrassed to tell you that my dear Mama's taste in men has turned cougarish," she said with a pained expression.
    Marisol refrained from revealing that after she'd broken up with her ex-fiancé, her indiscreet mom had chased after him. It was way too much information. She later learned they'd had a brief fling, too. That's when she stopped communicating with her toxic mom and life improved. "Now that I've aired my family's dirty laundry, tell me about yours."
    Clay looked about to say something when the doorbell rang.
    "Ha, saved by the bell," Marisol said, as she put the salad bowl in the center of the table. Clay answered the door and shoved a few extra dollars into the pizza delivery man's hand. He returned with the large carton and set it on the end of the table.
    Marisol peeked inside. "Looks delish. I'm famished, let's eat."
    She served Clay a slice and helped herself to another. As she chewed, she noticed him watching her lips beneath hooded lids and when his midnight eyes met hers, a warm flush spread through her making her breath quicken. She looked away from his seductive eyes and busied herself filling their salad bowls.
    "Where do you live?" she asked.
    "In this building, actually."
    He lived in her building? Why hadn't she noticed him before?
    "My apartment is one of the perks of the job. I live on the ninth floor and the view is amazing," he said, gesturing toward the balcony overlooking a pristine lake surrounded by massive banyan trees and royal palms.
    "I love living here. My brother and I own this apartment and another one in the building."
    "You must be close. Do you see him often?"
    "No, Marcos lives in Naples now."
    Clay gave her a quizzical look. "So which brother lives in Miami?"
    "I only have one brother." Marisol's face heated with embarrassment when he cocked a thick eyebrow and waited for an explanation. "Oops, I told you a little white lie when I said I had a brother who lived here."
    "You seem to have a penchant for telling little white lies, sunshine," he said, his cool black eyes assessing her.
    "I usually tell the truth. No really, I do," she insisted when she saw his doubtful expression. "I only tell white lies when I absolutely have to. Don't look at me that way, Blackthorne. I knew next to nothing about you. A girl can't be too careful," she said, serving them another slice of pizza.
    "Damn right," he said forcefully. "But now that you know I'm not the bad guy, you can start telling the truth."
    She made a wry face. "Eh, now you sound like Marcos and I don't mean it as a compliment."
    "Thanks."
    "Don't get me wrong," she said, smiling at his gruff tone as she refilled their wineglasses. "I love my brother, but he still bosses me around even though I'm twenty-nine. When I was studying at the