Enthralled: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  “Do you trust me?” Indeed, I did. I nodded and went to my room to get changed.

  Why was he being so intense about the whole Kyle thing? It was absolutely uncanny. I wasn’t sure if I liked him being that way toward me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Showered and ready to go, I gave myself a once over in the full-length mirror that hung on my bathroom door. I wore a powder blue, cotton dress that was fitted tightly around my torso and flared nicely at the bottom, sitting two inches above my knees. I accented the dress with mustard-colored, wedge espadrilles and hastily placed my naturally wavy, dark hair in a loose bun, evoking simplicity while still achieving a sexy look.

  I applied tinted moisturizer, pink gloss and just enough mascara to bring out my bright green eyes with a burst of gold popping out of them. It was one of my best features. Even if I felt like death inside, I needed to look at least presentable. It was part of the coping mechanism I learned when I was ten years old—always look put together.

  My golden-brown skin could be credited to my Brazilian/Caucasian mixed heritage. Spritzing my signature Coco Mademoiselle, I grabbed my tan Botkier tote and headed toward where Blake was patiently waiting for me.

  I found him in the kitchen on the phone. He turned around and gave me a swift examination before ending the call. “Ready?” he politely asked, as he stayed rooted to his spot.

  “Yep.”

  “To breakfast, milady.” He held out his arm to link with mine.

  I smiled stupidly at him as we walked out the door and straight to the elevator. “Figured anything out yet?” I questioned, referring to ‘his plan of action’.

  “Sorted as promised, but it’s a surprise…” He looked impish and smug so I nudged him.

  As we emerged from the elevator, we headed toward the main entrance. “You have got to be joking! Why does it have to be a surprise? I hate surprises!” I exclaimed. I did hate surprises because surprises were horrible, every single time. So, I was a tad skeptical about that one.

  “You did agree to trust me; remember, poppet?” he asked, gazing at me with a playful smile as the sunshine accentuated his beautifully sculpted features, making him look annoyingly sexy as we hit the sidewalk.

  A few women who passed by stared openly at him. A harried woman stopped, halting in her tracks, awed, and just ogled—previous destination long forgotten as she was rooted to the cement sidewalk. Yeah, yeah he was hot. So what? I wanted to snap that woman out of her trance.

  Don’t get me wrong; I adored Blake. I thought he was smart, articulate, funny, crazy talented and had a heart of gold, which was reserved for those he trusted, but it could be exhausting to be his friend. Lucy had the same problem. We were the only women that Blake was friends with so we were constantly hounded for trivial information. Anything, to help them out, they’d say. “Right, if Blake really wanted a woman, he’d pursue her relentlessly, not the other way around,” had been the reply out of Lucy’s very owns lips.

  I went to a Fashion School, majoring in Fashion Marketing, and of course, the women there asked me about him after he picked me up from school once. He was parked on the curb and leaning on his sexy car looking absolutely delicious; that alone drove questions from six—SIX!—adult, grown women who had their panties twisted. The girlfriends I brought from school to party with us a few times brought hysterics into the mix at their first glance. Like “OMG, have you SEEN that ASS?” or “HOLY FUCK! He’s GORGEOUS!” or “Shit, Sienna, can you hook me up?” There was more, but I don’t want to elaborate any longer; it was taxing on my precious sanity. Blake, of course, never hooked-up with any of them because they weren’t lingerie model material.

  Glancing at him, I shrugged. “Yeah, right,” I said, thinking that the surprise better not suck or I was going back to my bed to wallow, sleep and then wallow some more.

  Jet-lag, thoughts of Kyle… what else?

  Kyle… did he know I’d left home? Home was Los Angeles for me and where Kyle was. My best friend, my protector… my first love, my first everything—before he totally broke my heart almost a month ago when I got that call.

  Kyle and I had practically grown up together. He lived a few houses down from me. We were each other’s strength ever since we were seven years of age and we’d never grown apart, until I left for school in London. After a few months, he started being distant and talked to me over the phone only very reluctantly, and when he did, he was extremely nonchalant. I explained away his attitude with viable reasons such as he missed me or he couldn’t stand having me so far away from him and all. I had ignored the warning signs all too easily.

  Wanting to bridge the wedge between us, I decided to surprise him. I had a two-week window in between semesters so I could easily visit him, but before I booked the ticket, he called me.

  I was the one surprised.

  That call had shattered everything that I’d believed Kyle and I had along with my belief that we were invincible. He told me that he’d met someone else and he had been seeing her for a month. He justified his actions by stating that it was too difficult without me there and he was lonely.

  Lonely?!

  Two years of being together, not to mention that we’d been best friends since the age of seven, thrown out the window because he was lonely?! What a cruel joke.

  Of course, Luce, Chad and Blake consoled me and all three begged me to forgo my trip to Los Angeles. They’d argued that he wasn’t worth it and I might just end up regretting the decision. However, I held my ground and still managed to book that blasted airline ticket.

  I wasn’t a coward and I needed to see it for myself. To hear him say it—I needed him to tell me that it was over.

  Guiding me to the parked Black One 77 Aston Martin on the curb, Blake opened the door and let me in. The heady perfume of leather and Blake’s signature aroma annihilated my nostrils, making my stomach churn; I love his smell.

  Opening his door, he slid onto the black leather seat next to me, pulled out his aviator shades and started the engine, pulling into traffic toward Piccadilly. Some of his hair fell on the side, looking like a sinfully sleek rock god, in control and dominating.

  What’s with Italian men and glorious hair, anyway? Even if he was only half Italian—he’d certainly had the coloring and the hair thing going on. I couldn’t help my thoughts sometimes. My reaction toward him came naturally. He was simply too damn sexy.

  “Did you sleep at all last night?” I asked, looking at him to see his facial expression.

  He smirked. “No, not really.”

  I frowned at his answer. “But… why? You could’ve confronted me in the morning, Blake. Why the need to show up that late?” I was nursing my ego, pride and my heart, but I certainly was not suicidal.

  Blake exhaled deeply, his voice dark. “I needed to see with my very own eyes that you were not crying into oblivion or drowning in alcohol. I was worried. It didn’t help that you were alone in the flat and I reprimanded Lucy for leaving you in the state that you were in, even if she argued that you wanted to go straight to bed.” He looked so serious and started to get angry again.

  “It’s not Lucy’s fault that I showed up unannounced a week earlier than arranged, and besides, they had planned a trip to Turkey. I wasn’t about to have her stay back here because I had my heart broken. That’s ludicrous! She was worried, but I convinced her to leave me alone. I needed to be left alone last night and I thought, deep down, she knew that it was what I needed.” Blake looked pensive and seemed not to buy my argument.

  I tugged at his shirt. “Blake, you can’t seriously be mad at Lucy. She didn’t do anything wrong,” I was adamant that he believe me. I wasn’t going to let him be mad at Lucy and he knew it, too. He was merely trying to drive me insane. They were my friends and they meant a lot. They’d become like family.

  Taking my hand and linking his fingers with mine, he placed both of our hands on his thigh before he spoke. “I hate seeing you hurt, Sienna. You’re one of my best friends; I cann
ot endure you being shattered and vulnerable. You’ve always had this easy going, happy attitude about you, and after you got that call, you’ve changed. I know you’re hurt, poppet, but let me help you ease some of the pain? You’re not alone in this. If the situation were reversed, you would do exactly the same thing for me. Let me take care of you until you’re better.”

  Surprised and astonished by his speech, I gathered my dumbfounded brain to make a response. How lucky am I to have a friend like Blake? He didn’t talk much about his family, but from what I had gathered from Toby, to those he let in, he’d be their friend for life. A sort of ‘til-death-do-us-part type of loyalty.

  Blake sounded too serious and I needed to lighten up the mood. Quirking my left eyebrow at him, I asked, “Ease some of my pain, Knightly? Wonder how easily you can manage that! Tell me where and when and I’ll show up, milord.” I wore a seductive smile as I batted my lashes at him, going for the full effect. Yeah, sucker!

  He flashed his magnetic smile as he swiftly parked the car and killed the engine, giving me his undivided attention. “Are we frisky today, my sweet?” he drawled, brushing subtle strokes on my arm that still held his right hand. Ha, I see how you’re going to play this. Two can play that game.

  “¿Cuánto me quieres, papi?” How much do you want me, papi? I purred at him, knowing full well he spoke fluent Spanish amongst other languages. Papi meant daddy, but it was widely used as an endearment in other Spanish-speaking countries, mostly in a sexual situation.

  I leaned over him, inhaling his smell as I whispered seductively, “Te deseo, papi—dentro de mí.” I want you, papi—inside me. Pulling back, I bit my lip and gazed at him through my lashes for the full-effect.

  His chiseled jaw dropped while the air crackled, heavy with arousal. I felt him hold my hand tighter. He swallowed hard and groaned. Okay. I kind of over did that, but I couldn’t help teasing him. I just wanted to see if he would take the bait and he had.

  I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was simply too intense; I had to figure out a way to diffuse the weird situation I had gotten myself into. Laughing always seemed to work.

  “I’m sorry; I got carried away. I couldn’t help teasing you. The opportunity was there and I just had to grab it!” I smiled at him with pure innocence.

  He laughed his throaty, sexy laugh, too. “Woman, you almost gave me a heart attack! That was some sexy stuff you just pulled. You’re lucky I didn’t take the bait and have my wicked way with you!” With a sexy wink, he opened his door to get out of the car.

  He went to my side, opened the door and offered his hand to help me out. Chivalry’s always alive and kicking with Blake and Toby. I was lucky to have found Lucy as my flat mate and to have made very good friends with those two caring men, Blake especially.

  “Did you make a reservation?”

  “Don’t worry about anything. I got it handled,” Blake said reassuringly. I nodded. I was sure he had. I mean, did men like him need reservations, anyway?

  “Mr. Knightly, how lovely it is to see you again. How is your grandfather?” questioned the maître d', a middle-aged man wearing a suit and thick glasses, as he ushered us to our table.

  “He’s lovely, thank you.” Blake responded casually, placing his hand on my back as we headed to our table.

  “Here we are! Let me know if there is anything that I can do for you, Mr. Knightly. Good to see you again. Enjoy,” he said enthusiastically, looking at Blake and then me.

  “Thank you, Gerard.” Gerard gave a light nod, smiled toward me and stealthily left our table.

  I knew his granddad came here often with him. Blake adored his grandfather. He had taken him in when Blake was ten years old, after both of his parents had tragically died in an avalanche in the Swiss Alps while skiing on their wedding anniversary. I met his grandfather, William, once during my visit to Blake’s flat in Mayfair when his grandfather decided to give him a surprise visit. He was charming and engaging. From the affectionate way they interacted, I knew they loved each other deeply. I was happy for Blake because, even though tragedy had struck him, he still had a loving family member to care for and support him unconditionally, unlike me.

  “I’ll have Eggs Benedict and a cappuccino, please.” I didn’t need to look over the menu. I knew what I wanted.

  “A woman with a hearty appetite. I like that.” I snorted and laughed. Ha! I’m sure you do.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  He raised a brow, curious and waiting. “And?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just—you know—you only date models or ones that look it and I bet those types hardly eat or, if they do, simply nibble at their food. I’m sure,” I said sarcastically. Why does he date only women that look like that? I hadn’t pegged him to be a shallow man, but then again, I supposed his libido made the decisions. I truly was curious and wanted to know the truth, however I didn’t have the nerve to actually voice that question out loud.

  “I do not!”

  I shrugged, not wanting to argue.

  After the waiter had come and taken our order, Blake had to go outside to take a business call. I was left to my own devices, so I pulled out my phone and texted Jen. I let her know that I had gotten back okay, that she shouldn’t worry about me and I would call her as soon as I got a chance. She was a good friend from back home and was one of the people in my support system. She was there with me when I saw Kyle with his new girlfriend. Thinking about that made my stomach churn and burn with acid.

  Fuck.

  The bitch gave me a smirk and held Kyle’s arm, looking at me with a scornful expression. I didn’t go back there to steal him from her. I just needed closure, but I’d gotten more than I had bargained for.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Saturday, Santa Monica,

  Katie’s Beach House Party

  (8 days ago)

  “What’s your choice of poison?” the über hot bartender asked, wearing only surfer shorts and a garter bowtie to complete his ultra-surfer look. Hot might be understated, more like scrumptious. Exotic with caramel eyes and a to-die-for smile accompanied by perfect teeth.

  I giggled like a schoolgirl. “Um, I’d like a lemon drop and a…” I trailed off glancing at Jen.

  “What would you like to drink, Jen?”

  “I’ll have sex on the beach, babe,” she said with a wink. I’m sure she just wants that with a little sand and soft waves. Flirt.

  He started setting up our drinks as I pulled Jen next to me. She was still looking at the bartender through her eyelashes and I knew right then and there that she had already set her sights on him.

  “Jen, we just got here, can the flirting wait? I kind of need you to stick with me tonight. I sort of need armor, or more like a shield,” I said with an antsy smile and pleading tone.

  “Doll, you can’t be seriously hung up on Kyle still, are you?” Jen asked accusingly, her brows furrowed.

  “Umm… well, I don’t know… I want to talk to him—”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? He cheated! You can’t second guess that, sweetie. He’s moved on, and from what I’ve heard, things have been getting steadily serious.”

  That did sound like a very good point.

  Steady and serious. Huh. Wow. How could he do this to me? To us?

  I wanted to scream and lash out at him, but it wouldn’t change what he’d done. I guess he didn’t want to wait; he wanted a change. I was hoping to catch him that night and talk. I didn’t try calling his phone because I wanted to see his face. I needed closure so I could bury the hatchet forever and never look back with regret. I needed a clean slate, no doubts hanging about in my semi-lucid brain.

  I knew he was going to show up; he always showed up at parties and I didn’t doubt that his ladylove would be with him, too.

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter… just hang with me for a bit, okay? I promise to take you for fro-yo tomorrow,” I said as I avoided her question. I couldn’t answer that my
self at that moment. That had always been our go-to place; second to Starbucks.

  “Here you go, ladies! Enjoy!” purred the hot-tender.

  “Thanks,” we said, synchronized.

  “Okay, I’ll stick with you for a while, but not long. I don’t want someone else snagging that nice piece of meat before I do! God, have you seen that tight body?” Jen delightfully noted, glancing back to the bartender before heading to the beach where some people we knew from high school were located.

  “I want to just drag him somewhere dark and see if those lips live up to my imagination! Do you think he’ll be into me?”

  I glanced at her like she had two horns on her head. “Have you gone mad, hon? You know you’re a knockout, right? Besides, he was totally checking you out.”

  Seriously, sometimes I thought she didn’t really know how beautiful she was. That part of Jen was the doing of a stupid, selfish ex-boyfriend who’d mentally and emotionally derided her and she totally succumbed to the douchebag’s manipulative ways because she had been blinded by love.

  In love or not, a person didn’t deserve to be treated like that. That type of abuse could take a long time to recover from. Had I known that in the beginning, I would’ve snatched her away from Tony. However, for three years she’d never said a word about any of it. From the outside, everything seemed undeniably perfect. Everyone had always thought they were perfect for each other. I did, too. I adored Tony. That’s why, when she confessed her dilemma, I took charge and let her stay with me until everything blew over and until Tony realized that she was serious about leaving him. Our senior year, she started to blossom into her own person and had been loving life ever since.

  Most men I knew had a hard time resisting Jen when she was on the prowl—there was no chance in hell her chosen man could escape. Who would really want to resist someone who resembled Heidi Klum in the looks department? Apart from Jen having killer looks, she had a sharp mind and she was currently studying at USC to be a lawyer. She’d make a killing out of that one.