Enthralled: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  Her skirt was twisted to the other side and not properly fixed. Her lips were red and swollen from our lovemaking, her hair disheveled and those beautiful crystal green/gold eyes flashed at me, immobilizing me on the spot from her sheer beauty.

  She didn’t have any clue how she affected me by just one look. She had that power over me. She had that effect on most men, but she didn’t see it. I knew, though, and saw how men wanted to possess her; her beauty, her body, her beautiful heart. She was next to perfection. She was also mine.

  How did I even manage to convince myself that I could be at the same party with her and not feel this? Savagely, I cursed my stupidity. She had always possessed power over me. No one had the capacity to drive me up the wall like Sienna could. When she was still here, she was it for me and yet she still walked away. I wasn’t enough for her; never would be.

  I had to harden my resolve for my sanity’s sake. God, this is difficult! My throat ran dry as thoughts ran through scenes from a few minutes ago, vividly. How she looked lying there, waiting with desire—all for me. All mine and mine alone. Not any longer. She would eventually find someone; it wouldn’t be hard. I bet there’s already a line waiting.

  The idea of another man possessing her brought ferocious feelings out of me. It was jealousy eating me alive. I couldn’t go there. Not that night.

  “Sienna, I’m not going to apologize for this. Seeing you again made it impossible to resist you. I remembered us being good together and I just couldn’t seem to help myself… I had to have you—”

  “So that was merely a one-time thing then?” she cut me off in a shaky voice.

  Her beautiful eyes were rimmed with unshed tears. How I wanted to possess that woman. My heart ached. I hated seeing her hurt, but I couldn’t let her get to me. I barely survived when she left the last time. I couldn’t go there again.

  Steeling my resolve, I answered, “Yes, it is… it was. I’m with Brooke—” She didn’t even let me finish before she started yelling.

  “That’s fucking convenient! You had sex with me without a second thought to your girlfriend and now, after you’ve gotten what you wanted, you’re in a relationship again!” her voice screeched. Sienna was beside herself.

  Man, she looked even hotter when she was furious. I wanted to take her again, right against the wall. I’m going crazy, I knew I was, but I truly wanted to reach out and kiss those pouty, swollen lips of hers senseless, for the last time. Just a little taste of her once more before walking away. I hate feeling like this. This uncontrollable passion I have with her. I feel powerless against it. I have to get out of here—fast—before I start kissing her and fucking up more. Leave, now!

  I had to calm myself before responding to her accusing tone. “I didn’t use you. I asked you if it was okay before things got way too heated and you told me it was fine,” I countered. I wanted to be friends with her, but it was impossible for me. That was asking too much of myself, however I didn’t want any hard feelings, either. “Hey, we’ll talk this over when we’re sober and calmed down. I’ll come see you in a couple of days. How about we—” She held her hands up in exasperation.

  “You know what?! This was a stupid mistake! I thought for a second there that… that you might feel something… or it meant that you still… you know what? It doesn’t matter what I think! Let’s forget this ever happened, ‘kay? Please, don’t try to contact me because I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again!” she said with finality before she walked out the door.

  Out of my life.

  Again.

  Hell, Sienna!!!

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sienna

  London, present

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t leave you too long, did I?” A concerned look was etched on his face as he waited for me to respond to his question.

  “No, it’s fine. Stop worrying, Blake.” I smiled at him. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a worrywart sometimes?”

  Sipping his coffee as he gazed at me, Blake waited a beat before speaking. “Yes, you’ve often told me.”

  “It’s true. You’ve got to channel stress into something productive like boxing, perhaps?” I teased him.

  “Sure, as long as you join me because then we can kick ass together,” he jested back. Uh, not a good idea! I might just get turned on watching him; sweaty and full of angst.

  “No thanks, I let out my frustration through dancing.” I gave him a smug look. “Anyhow, what the hell happened between you and Camille?” I asked, using my casual tone. I was curious. I was always curious when it came to his girlfriends. Sometimes he was forthcoming with the dirt and sometimes he was tight-lipped.

  Twirling his coffee cup, he studied it with the utmost concentration before he spoke. “As I said before, she wanted to move in with me. She was getting demanding, jealous and paranoid. It was nothing permanent and she knew it, still she pushed. So, I had no choice except to let her go.”

  “I really believed you guys were going to last longer than two months. I mean, you looked perfect together. Are you okay, though? I know for a fact that break-ups are nasty and never easy.” I continued on when I didn’t get a reply, “So, she was jealous, huh? Were you entertaining and catering to your other girlfriends, Blake?” I gave him a you’re-such-a naughty-boy look because he surely was.

  His throaty laugh filled the air. “Oh, Sienna, sometimes you’re just too adorable. To answer your question, no, I wasn’t getting my groove on and screwing other women. Honestly, she was jealous of my relationship with you. She thought we spent a lot of time together and that I was crazy about you. I assured her that we were friends, nothing more, and the mere fact that you were with Kyle didn’t convince her troubled mind. Cam was convinced that once Kyle was out of the equation that I would step in and have you all to myself.” Leaning back and still playing with his coffee cup, his eyes were steady and pensive while studying my reaction.

  I laughed—hard—and almost ran out of air. That’s the funniest story I’ve heard, I thought. Was Camille high on drugs? Had she looked in the mirror lately? She was stunning. Where did she cook up ideas like that? Blake didn’t go for women like me. If he’d wanted to, he had plenty of chances over the last eight months, but he’d never tried anything that would imply that he was interested at all. So, she was being silly over nothing.

  “Finding my story funny, Sienna?” He was still watching me intently, his voice steady and calm. He could be so intense sometimes that it made my heart skitter.

  “Yes, I mean, come on! That was stupid of her! Why would she be jealous of me? Look at her and look at me. She’s like the epitome of perfection. Besides, the idea of us? We’ll never work. I mean, we like the same things, but we’re different. You’re like mega rich and soon you’ll be running the world with just a bat of your eyelashes and I’ll be, you know, the same. Normal.” My voice got small in the end. I bit my bottom lip until all the blood drained. The idea of Blake—us—bothered me. We were worlds apart. Everyone could see that. So why do I wish that weren’t true?

  He was still and unmoving, his lips in a straight line, pensive. What’s he thinking now?

  However, he didn’t have the chance to make a reply to my tirade because our food arrived and we fell silent as we worked on our plates, lost in thought. The food was excellent and I was happy to oblige my grumbling stomach.

  “Mmm, this is definitely divine,” I said as I bit into a piece of bacon, savoring every taste as I closed my eyes.

  “Certainly looks like it,” Blake murmured, locking his eyes on me as he took a bite of his toast.

  Shrugging, I set aside my dish after I’d devoured every bite with pure gusto. I worked on my coffee next; I needed something to do besides looking at his magnetizing eyes. Uncomfortable was not the word I would use to describe it. Breathless would possibly be fitting, though.

  After what seemed like five minutes, he threw down a hundred pounds on the table and asked, “Ready?”

  “Not reall
y, but guess I have to see what’s in store now, don’t I?” I stood up and pretended to be petulant.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see, my impatient one.”

  S

  “Notting Hill?”

  “Yes, our next stop to your easing-up-the-pain strategy.” Blake smirked when he said easing. Ha. I would rather forget that embarrassing incident in the car right before breakfast.

  He parked the car, got out and opened the car door for me. I smiled. “Hummingbird Bakery?” I gleefully asked.

  “As you wish, milady,” he said with a little bow. That gesture put me in mild hysterics. He had a good sense of humor. That was why we were friends. We could act silly and have fun; it was easy.

  Grabbing my hand and pulling me next to him, we strolled along, passing clothing boutiques and antique places. Notting Hill was a gem. They had a lot of funky, trendy stores and just about any knick-knack you could ever imagine. It was awesome!

  We made our way to Hummingbird Bakery that made these delicious, mouth-watering cupcakes. Each perfect bite was sheer bliss. Still holding hands, he guided me inside the shop. We had found the bakery simply by walking around on a Sunday afternoon and we’d both fallen in love with it; each liking to indulge our sweet tooth. So, once in a while, we would come here to indulge. Though, on special occasions—like when it was that time of the month for me—he brought me a box of cupcakes to cheer me up. How thoughtful was that?

  Ogling those beautifully decorated, earth-shattering pieces of ambrosia with yearning eyes, my mouth salivated. Blake ordered red-velvet and chocolate chip cupcakes to be eaten outside on the patio as well as a dozen more to take home. Oh, yum! You see how intuitive he is? Ha!

  “Let me pay for this one,” I demanded. He gave me a shut-the-hell-up look.

  I huffed and turned around as he paid for the cupcakes. It was always like that with Blake and Toby. They would get offended if you offered to pay. Some men would gladly appreciate the offer. Some men expected women to pay half of everything, but those two still believed that they had to take care of the ladies. They felt insulted if I asked.

  I found a table for two and waited for my cupcakes to arrive. Sitting, I basked in the warmth of the sunshine hitting my face. Life isn’t so bad when you have cupcakes, I mused.

  “Here we are!” he announced as he placed two of my favorite cupcakes in front of me and cut the cupcakes in quarters. We had a ritual because we both loved these flavors, we agreed to a compromise, eating them half and half. It was kind of cute.

  He took a piece of red-velvet and fed me. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes and savored the flavor. I was a passionate person, especially when it came to food.

  “Mmm, yes!” I purred in satisfaction.

  He laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t be mad for long.” He gave me his god-like smile again, placing his Ray-Ban sunglasses atop his wavy hair. I looked away. He looked too tempting and when he smiled like that, I had this urge to stare and worship him. It was very disconcerting to feel that way sometimes and it caught me off guard.

  He was a great friend and a flirt, but a great friend nonetheless. So, when he acted a certain way—holding my hand and smiling at me like I was the only person in the world that mattered—it confused the shit out of me.

  My phone beeped so I took it out of my purse and checked the message.

  Kyle.

  Heart thudding, I opened the message.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  From: Kyle Matthews

  Subject: Miss you

  I went over to Jen’s to check if u were there last night and found out u went back to London. Why? Did u leave ’coz of me? Wanted to speak to you. WE HAVE TO TALK about what happened. About us. Call me. Seeing u again made me realize how much u mean to me, Sienna.

  I’ll be waiting for your call.

  I miss u,

  Kyle

  Shit. How do I reply to that? He sounded guilty as hell. Well, he should be after he treated me crassly with no thought to my feelings. He just took what he wanted and my feelings, again, were pushed aside.

  “Sienna, what is it?” I turned off the screen, slid my phone back into my purse and sighed heavily. “Kyle… he wants to talk.”

  “Are you going to?” He looked at me, pensive, unreadable.

  “No, I’m not giving that jerk the satisfaction,” I said with decisiveness and a clear voice. I had made up my mind. As much as it killed me to admit, I was still hurting.

  What hurt more was the fact that he dated her a month before breaking it off with me. He didn’t even have the decency to end things before saddling himself up to someone else. To put icing on the cake, he had sex with me and still went back to her. Now he had decided that he wanted to talk? The nerve!

  “What’s up next?” I asked, studying his unreadable expression. He grabbed my hand and played with the inside of my palm with his middle finger; in slow, agonizing, fever-inducing, rhythmic circles.

  He was touching me a lot today. He never used to, I mean, apart from the usual greeting of kisses, hugs and nudges here and there; nothing as personal as this, though. I was afraid to ask him about it, so I pretended it didn’t bother me, as if we did this all the time.

  “It’s a surprise, poppet. I’m sure you will figure it out soon enough.” Getting up and hooking my left arm around his, we strolled back to where his car was parked.

  Walking at a leisurely pace, my thoughts raced back to Kyle. Was it cold of me not to bother replying to his email? We had been through a lot and I considered him family. My mom died giving birth to me and my dad died when I was seven. From what I could recall of my dad, he was a loving man, giving, and he adored me. He used to talk about Mom all the time and how they had loved me from the moment they discovered she was pregnant.

  Dad had a heart attack. No one saw it coming; it was abrupt and swift. All of a sudden, I was alone. I remember the conservator consoling and assuring me that my father was a wise man, that he had invested the insurance he got from my mother’s death shrewdly. He even added that there was more coming from my dad’s insurance policy, amongst other investments he had stocks in. My dad made sure I had a college fund on top of everything else.

  He basically thought it out accordingly, just in case he died. I received a partial amount of his Social Security money to tide me over until I turned eighteen; the legal age when I took over my own spending and could handle all my finances. At the time, though, I couldn’t have cared less about money because all I wanted was my dad back.

  My father’s sister, Christy, took me in. She had a husband, Dan, and a daughter a year older than me, Caroline. It was hell living in the Browns’ household. I was the interloper who basically ruined their neat, consistent lives.

  When I met Kyle—the boy next door—he became my solace, my protector and my friend. His mother was always kind and loving to me, baking cakes and pastries that I enjoyed through the years. I had grown to depend on Kyle, and leaving Los Angeles had torn me apart; but I had to leave home. I needed to get away; to have a new life, a second chance to erase all the memories of what I’d endured living with the Browns. As a result, he was hurt, but supportive about my decision; or so I’d thought.

  My father had indeed made sure that I was well provided for. The money I had gotten from him on my eighteenth birthday was substantial. I didn’t need to work if I didn’t want to, but I had other plans. I wanted to become successful on my own and thrive in the marketing industry.

  S

  Leaning back against the cool leather seat, I exhaled. Boy, I’m exhausted. Driving around town seriously took a toll on my jet-lagged condition. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head, the sounds of Moonlight Sonata in cello relaxing me into slumber as he squeezed my thigh.

  “Don’t drift off yet. I promise you can sleep when we get to our destination, all right?” Blake glanced at me with a hint of a smile. He took hold of my hand and placed it on his lap; overwhelming me with weird emotions.

  I turned side
ways to look at him. With his shades on, he looked like a sexy man from a car commercial, only a tad bit more good looking. He resembled Gaspard Ulliel or Christiano Ronaldo; that’s how deadly he looked. The Latin coloring and charm contributed from his Italian mother combined with when he spoke Italian… total, major turn on. His eyes were another dynamic aspect that contributed to that killer look. Blake had the most unusual eyes; midnight blue, rimmed in silver with flecks of scattered gold in the middle. When he was angry, his eyes turned almost black; making those scattered gold flecks stand out. It was like staring at the Milky Way galaxy as it sucked you in until you were lost in them. It was spellbinding and disconcerting at the same time.

  “Are you done checking me out, Sienna?” He gave me a sideways glance before diverting his eyes back to the traffic ahead. Busted.

  “Not yet, just give me a few more minutes; I’m sure by then I will have memorized all your flaws,” I quipped back. I was a tad mortified that he’d caught me staring wide-eyed at him. “Are we almost there?” I drastically needed to change the subject back to safer ground.

  “Yes, a few minutes or so then you can sleep, my sweet; just as long as you promise not to snore.” He smiled tenderly at my horrified expression.

  “Ha! I do not snore!” I pinched his leg.

  “Ow,” Blake yelped, but had his god-like smile in check—dreamy was the more appropriate term for that smile. I hated it that he had a way of disarming me with that smile.

  As promised, after a few minutes we arrived at our destination; an upscale hotel in Knightsbridge. Getting out of the sexy Aston Martin, he handed the car keys to the valet attendant and tended to me. With a hand on my back, he gently guided me to the hotel spa.

  “Aw, how you read my mind, Knightly! Thank you! Thank you!”

  “I hope this will make up for all the energy you invested with me since this morning. Come.” Like I wouldn’t forgive him? Blake held the door and we stepped inside the reception area which was a white and glass combination, giving a chic, clean-cut effect.