Read Mated To The Dragon Of Manhattan (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) for Free Online Page B

business trip-type thing soon, and I know Truman will want to talk to him about your situation, and I'm not even going to lie...I totally want to be there."
     
    I nodded and said okay. "And do me a favor, will you? If you can put in a few good words about me not seeming like a spy, because I'm not , please do."
     
    She smiled. "Of course I will. Though I might throw in a few things about you missing Rolando Feathers pretty desperately, too."
     
    I fought a grin. "All right. Get out."
     
    That night, pretty surprisingly, I slept like a baby, despite having taken my long evening nap earlier. And also, despite still not knowing what had happened to me. Or exactly why Lord Truman was holding me prisoner.
     
    The next morning, I resolved to get answers. Brianna had told me that Lord Truman would be coming by with brunch around ten, and I was showered, dressed, and completely ready by five minutes before. Most of the new clothes Brianna had left for me fit perfectly, and I'd chosen to wear a scoop-neck fuchsia top, white shorts, and wedge-heeled tan-and-white sandals. I'd carefully styled my long, dark hair into loose waves, and I'd even applied a little makeup, which I was glad I'd happened to have in my purse. I put on some thin, gold bangle bracelets and dangly gold earrings that Brianna had put in with my new clothes. After all, I figured that maintaining dignity as a prisoner probably included trying to look one's best at all times.
     
    When a knock sounded at the door, my heartbeat began accelerating, and I had to force myself to wait a few seconds before opening it. But then I realized I couldn't open the door. Because I was locked in the apartment. A little irritated, I decided the best I could do was call out for Lord Truman to come in, and so I did.
     
    He opened the door and stepped into the foyer, where I was standing with my arms crossed over my chest, stifling a little huff of displeasure. But once I saw him, all my irritation kind of melted away. His thick, dark hair was rakishly tousled, and a hank of it fell over his forehead. He wasn't wearing the head-to-toe black, military-style uniform he'd been wearing the previous day; now he was wearing jeans that hung low on his slim hips and a white Oxford shirt open at the collar, which revealed a tantalizing glimpse of his bare, broad, chiseled chest. The effect was more than a little dazzling.
     
    He gave me a little half-smile, further accelerating my heartbeat. "Good morning, Miss Morgan."
     
    I struggled to find my voice. "Good morning, Lord Stone. But, please...call me Brette."
     
    His half-smile got a little bigger. "All right, Brette, and thank you. And please call me Truman."
     
    Brianna had been right that I'd be quickly moving into Truman, no Lord territory.
     
    There was a little silence while we looked at each other, and I broke it by clearing my throat.
     
    "I would have opened the door for you, but I was unable to. Being that I'm still a prisoner here, apparently. Even though I don't know why."
     
    Truman's butterfly-inducing grin faded, making me wish I hadn't said what I had. Because I wanted to see his handsome grin all day. Though I was still a little irritated at being held captive, unable to even open my own door.
     
    But then, a fraction of his little grin returned.
     
    "I think we should talk. I'll explain some things that might help make all this make sense. Now, how would you like to join me for a rooftop brunch? I have a rooftop garden just above my apartment, which is just one floor up from here, and it has one of the best views of the city. So, what do you say?"
     
    I nodded, feeling as if I could get lost in his charcoal gray eyes. "All right. I'll have brunch with you."
     
    His grin got a lot bigger.
     
    "Wonderful. Thank you. We can head up to the rooftop right now if you'd like." He lowered his voice, his gray eyes twinkling. "And Rolando Feathers never even has to know about this."
     
    A rush of heat instantly rose to my