Page 34 of Pandora's Pleasure
I took a deep breath. “Why are you here?”
She turned to look at me. “Let’s talk over there.”
Following her into the corner, I tried not to watch her hips sway. My boyfriend’s ex, no less, sashaying around like the Queen of England. She pulled a chair out and sat with the same assured style.
“You know whose table this is?” I plopped down beside her.
“Damien won’t mind.”
“What if he comes back?”
She scooped some icing off the cupcake and brought the spoon to her mouth, eating with a sensuality usually reserved for other pursuits. “How have you been?”
A part of my brain advised me to take notes.
“Dr. Rhodes, friends don’t swoop in for the kill when they see a weakness.”
She tutted. “I’m going to stop you right there, Pandora. Never reveal a chink in your armor. First rule of war.”
“Is that what this is?”
“You know how breathtaking you are. You can’t pass a mirror without being reminded.” She looked me up and down. “But your parents still have you dressed up like a debutante. Imagine when you’re finally allowed to choose your own gowns. “
“I chose this.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “No, you didn’t.”
Bitch.I hated how her guesses were always right. “I never opened the box,” I admitted. “If you’re wondering.”
She let out a thoughtful sigh.
My fingers tightened around my clutch purse, and I saw her glance at it.
“I’m not here for Damien.”
“Then who?”
“You.”
Picking up the profiterole, I munched on the round end, making an erotic noise while doing so. The chocolate pastry was delicious.
“Love your style.” She gestured to the waiter.
When he arrived at our table, Rhodes ordered four shots of Patrón.
I waited until the server wandered off. “Hope one of those tequila shots isn’t for me.”
“If you insist on keeping the necklace, you’ll need a stiff drink.” She licked her spoon, her tongue dancing on metal again. “How shockable are you?”
“In what respect?”
“I’m going to show you something.” She set the spoon down on her plate and fished around inside her purse, withdrawing her phone. After swiping to the left a few times, she placed it on her lap and covered it with her palm as the waiter dropped off the four shots.
He looked flustered, which was typical male behavior around Rhodes, I imagined.
After the server left, she leaned in to show me the screen. “Take a peek.”
My breath caught as I stared at the image of a naked woman with her hands tied behind her back, red silk ribbon binding her wrists together.
