Free Enticed (Dark Passions) by Sarah Bailey Page B

out from under hers. “No, Jen. That man screams trouble.” I smoothed my hands down the skirt of my dress, using the
repetitive motion to soothe my nerves and gain some control back into my
demeanor. “I need to get out of here,” I said, scrambling to my feet and
grabbing my black velvet clutch purse off the bar.
     
        
“You are not chickening out of this one,” Jen said, latching onto my arm
and pulling me back onto the stool. “Listen,” she whispered conspiratorially in
my ear. “That man has ‘your type’ written all over him. At least the old you.
Remember fearless, impulsive, wild little Mel? The girl who took risks. Studied
art history ‘cause she loved it, not because it would land her a safe job. Dated
the bad boy, even though he would probably break her heart.”
     
        
I pulled out of her grasp, and averted my gaze, fixing my eyes on the Exit sign.
“You mean irresponsible Mel who couldn’t hold a relationship together for
longer than three months? Reckless Mel who held out her heart on a platter,
offering it up to be smashed to pieces by boys who couldn’t commit?” I could
feel my whole body start to tremble.
     
        
“Hey,” she said softly, draping her arm over my shoulders and pulling me close.
“Playing it safe with Mr. Dull as Dishwater didn’t exactly work out either, now
did it?” I gave her a weak, sardonic smile.
     
        
Stroking my shoulder, she said, “At the very least, bad boy over there looks
like he’d be adventurous in bed. You need that. You deserve that after
putting up with two years of ‘I only do missionary’ man.”
     
         
Tina and Silvia broke off their conversation and turned to see what all the
commotion was about. “Girls, you ‘bout ready for another round?” Tina asked,
leaning over to get a better look at us.
     
        
“Yes,” Jen said, almost icily, not taking her eyes off of me. “Mel was just
saying it was about time for another drink.”
     
        
I raised my eyebrow and pointed at my Old Cuban. “I’ve barely even finished
this one,” I said. “And I’m drunk. I think I’m going to take off before things
get sloppy.”
     
        
My eyes once again fixed on the Exit sign, I stood up and started rushing
blindly toward it, only to find myself up against a strong, muscular chest. An
intoxicating woodsy scent filled my nostrils, and strong hands were wrapped
around my waist, keeping me from sliding to the floor. I looked up at the face
of the man holding me. It was him . His brilliant green eyes were
twinkling with mischief, and his look was so knowing, so probing, I felt stripped
bare. My heart was racing, and I could feel the heat coming off his chest,
making me dizzy with desire. I had to resist the impulse to bury my face into
the crook of his neck. I immediately hardened my gaze to block him from seeing
into the depths of me. Then I took a step back and tried pulling out of his
grasp. He was reluctant to let me go, but when my stare turned icy, he relented
and released his grip. “I have to go,” I said to him, under my breath, but he
heard it.
     
        
With him still blocking my path, I could feel his eyes searching for mine
again, willing me to look up at him. I took a deep breath, stood up to my full
height of 5 foot 8 inches, and tilted up my head to look him squarely in the
eye. He was easily 6 foot 2 and towered over me. “What’s the rush?” he asked in
a casual but husky tone that once again made my insides flutter with dangerous pleasure.
     
        
“Yeah, what’s the rush?” Jen piped up, giving me a hard, critical look. “We
just got here.” She gave Mystery Man a winning smile and said, “There’s a seat
free right here beside Melanie. Please do join us.”
     
        
“Melanie,” he said, giving me a sinfully sexy smile and holding out his hand.
“I’m Bradley.” I offered up a tentative half-smile and reluctantly stretched
out my hand. The moment his