Wild for You Read Online Free Page B

University of Miami, he was doing his residency there. Abuelita Coqui told him to keep an eye on me and he took his job too seriously."
    "Must have been a dream job for him," Clay said with a snort.
    Marisol chuckled. "He used to grumble about my constant partying at night, but he had no idea I was really going to beauty school. I kept it a secret."
    He gave her a curious look. "Why?"
    "He wouldn't have approved of me opening a salon in Miami and living here all alone. After I got my BA in business and a beautician's license on the side, I had already inherited part of my grandfather's trust fund, so I started my business."
    "Just like that? You make it sound easy."
    "It wasn't. First I went back to Buenos Aires and got an apprenticeship at a top beauty salon working on models and telenovela actors. That's where I met Gabe."
    "Who's Gabe?" He put his wine glass on the table and regarded her with expectant eyes.
    "My ex-fiancé who is an actor. When Marcos found out we were engaged, he had Gabe investigated. Abuelita was in on everything, I'm sure of it. Even my mom got in on the act." In more ways than one , she thought with distaste. "Anyway, I didn't believe the negative report my brother showed me, so I kept dating Gabe until I realized Marcos was right about him."
    "Good thing you didn't marry him," Clay said, digging into the salad with a shake of his head.
    "Amen to that. I found out he was a real snake. But when I joined Marcos to live in Naples, I realized I had to move. Even though he's a busy obstetrician, his need to watch over me is a real pain in my patootie."
    Clay responded with a short laugh. "That bad?"
    "Yeah, that bad." She rolled her eyes. "I love my brother, but Marcos thinks all guys are players like he is."
    "If I had a little sister as cute as you, I'd probably be worse than your brother," he said and looked like he meant it.
    "You're not gaining any points by admitting it," she said, discouraging his chauvinism. "Argentine men can be possessive of the women in their lives, especially their sisters. I wish he would find a woman to monopolize his attention and give me a break."
    The phone rang, interrupting their conversation. Marisol answered and listened for a few moments, then slammed down the receiver and dashed to the door.
    Clay was beside her in a flash. "What is it?"
    She opened the door and pointed to a small, wrapped parcel lying on the floor. "Look."
    Clay bolted down the hall toward the elevator, scanned both sides of the hallway and then returned looking annoyed.
    "Whoever dropped this off is long gone. Next time let me check the door first," he said curtly. He carried the package to the table with Marisol in tow. "I'll call and alert Alan to check for an intruder. In the meantime, open the package."
    Marisol stood beside Clay as he made the call and when he hung up, she said, "I don't want to."
    Clay handed her the package. "Aren't you curious about what's inside?"
    She gingerly held it as if there was a bomb inside. "I guess... but if I open it now, it'll ruin our evening."
    "Then I'll do it," he said decisively, reaching for the package.
    "No, let me." Marisol held on to it, not wanting to appear like a scared ninny. "I'm not going to wimp out now," she said with more guts than she felt as she tore open the package and looked inside, gasping when she parted the black tissue paper and found red satin-covered handcuffs and a dog collar inside.
    She gulped and looked into Clay's keen eyes with despair. "Now's he's getting kinky." An eerie sensation crawled over her skin when she saw the card nestled inside the box.
    "Let me read it," Clay said, reaching for the card. "You look too spooked."
    Marisol squared her shoulders and put some starch in her spine. "No, I will," she said bravely, but her blood ran cold as she read the menacing message out loud:
    I'm going to strip you naked and put the cuffs and doggy collar on you. You. Are. MINE.
    Marisol dropped the note as if it were in