Forty Shades of Pearl Read Online Free

beautiful city in the world.”
    He’s biting his lower lip with his gaze set on my face, and it’s sending a jolt of electricity though my body. “You’ve never been?”
    “No, I’m ashamed to say, I haven’t,” I reply. “But I intend to.”
    “Don’t be ashamed. You’re lucky you have something wonderful to look forward to. Like, if there’s a great book you haven’t read – a classic. It’s a happy thought to know something wonderful is in stall for you. Waiting with open arms to welcome you.”
    I smile. “That’s a refreshing way of looking at it. Funny you should like classics. Me, too. I love Russian novels and I adore old movies and re-runs of 50’s and 60’s T.V sitcom shows like, I Love Lucy, Bewitched and I Dream of Jeanie .” I realize how dumb that sounds. “Silly really. I love old songs too, especially from the 70’s. And you’re a lover of classic cars?”
    “They’ve been tried and tested. Loved too. You know what you’re getting. You’re sure to be rewarded with quality.” His green eyes now look flecked with tiger-gold. Is he flirting with me? My stomach is fluttering again – when he said those words, ‘tried and tested’ it churned. Does he think older women are ‘tried and tested’ too?
    “Fifth Avenue and?” I ask, immediately realizing I sound like a stalker.
    “Fifth and Sixty Second. I wanted to have a green view. A view to Central Park – and more importantly – a good place for my dog.”
    “You have a dog?”
    “Rex. But he’s still in Paris. He’s at my parents’ house for the moment until I bring him here. My whole life,” he says with a smile, “is designed around Rex. I made sure the apartment here had a spacious roof-terrace, too. It even has trees and a patch of lawn up there. Ready for a life of comfort. Me? I’d be happy with a dark little cave somewhere, but only the best for Monsieur Rex.”
    I laugh. “What kind of dog is he?”
    “A black Labrador. All black, except he wears a smart white cravat on his chest. One of the advantages of France is that you can take your dog anywhere. To restaurants, even. Especially, black Labs. President Mitterrand had a black Labrador and ever since then, they’ve been very respected creatures in my country.”
    My eyes widen. “Seriously? You can even go to smart restaurants with your dog?”
    “I usually call ahead to be polite. I book the table and then add, ‘Oh yes, just one thing, do you mind if I bring my dog along, you know, he’s just a typical Black Labrador —’ They always say yes. But I’ll tell you a secret—”
    He leans forward and, oh so slightly, rests his hand on my knee. It starts to quiver, goose bumps shimmer along my thighs, my arms.
    “What’s the secret?” I ask, my voice sounding like a small child’s.
    “He’s not pure Labrador. I think he’s got a little Pit-Bull in him. He has a wide face and compact thigh muscles that feel as if they’re made of rock. He’s the sweetest dog that ever lived. The sweetest, the gentlest. You know Pit-Bulls were originally bred to be nannies? To be guardians to babies and young children – to watch over them?”
    “No, really? You’re kidding me.”
    “I’m serious. A whole lot of vintage photographs have been discovered from the Victorian age. American Pit-Bull Terriers were used as baby-sitters. Unfair they’ve been given a bad rap and their loving natures abused. In France, they were forced to be sterilized some years back, but my Rex has some Pit-Bull genes in his blood, I’m sure. They were never considered dangerous in the olden days.”
    Don Gaire Oose….dangerous…his accent is so alluring. “That’s fascinating,” I say. “I never knew that. I’m crazy about dogs. I had one as a little girl. She was a Husky.”
    “Huskies are beautiful.”
    “Mine – she was called Zelda, she had one blue eye and one golden eye. She was a real stunner. But she’d run off whenever she could. They’re real escape