Read Whisper (The Voice trilogy Book 1) for Free Online Page B

contempt and jealousy. The others pick up on her gossip and he quickly becomes the subject of the tables’ idle chatter; who he was last pictured with on Page Six, or the gossip rags. His name volleys across the table like a ball, back and forth they giggle and wonder at his most recent carnal activities. Gossip and conjecture is all I am hearing, so I turn to Olivia for respite. She reads me like a book and pulls me into a conversation about home. 
    My life has been nothing but change and upheaval for so many years. I have become numb to the daily mess of it all. Being here with Olivia is supposed to serve as a distraction, but it is always looming in the back of my mind. I have no one left. Just as Olivia is embarking on this amazing journey with a new husband and extended family, I am alone. Color me green, because I am envious.
     
                                    *** 
     
    Olivia is surrounded by two scantily clad police officers and a gaggle of squealing women. Her face flaming with embarrassment and amusement, I catch her eye and motion that I’m going to step out. The room is too hot, smells of sex, leather and expensive perfume, crowded with overheated women. I walk through the double doors into the foyer of the suite that sits atop our hotel and go into the kitchen for a glass of water. The water is cool and crisp, taming my wild thirst, coating my throat. I am a buzz from the day’s activities and decide to take a walk. I stumble to the door on the tragically high heels that Liv wanted me to wear and decide to leave them behind. I prefer bare feet, my feet don’t like to be trapped, and I am more comfortable being that much closer to the ground, thank you. I walk out into the hall and wait for the elevator. 
    I sway to the tune stuck in my head as the elevator glides toward the ground floor. The doors open to none other than every woman’s favorite topic of conversation this evening, Rhys, in all of his arrogant, electric perfection. He is headed out the side door towards the patio where we first spoke. He doesn’t see me as I follow him outside, my bare feet not betraying a sound. I silently pad behind him until he stops at the end of the patio, he swirls his drink in the heavy crystal glass and takes a sip. He looks lost in thought and totally unaware of my prying eyes. I watch the muscles in his back move under his crisp shirt as he takes another drink, his back straight with a perfect ass to anchor a pair of powerful legs. He is all business. His crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled over sculpted forearms, his hair is rumpled and his collar loose.  I feel myself heating from within, the sight of him mingles with the gossip of the day and I remind myself to keep it together.
    “Do you always linger in the dark?” Rhys turns and locks me in his sights. Fuck! I didn’t think this through!  He closes the distance between us in two long strides and comes to a stop inches away from my face. He bends down coming eye to eye with me and takes a deep breath. A low groan rumbles in the back of his throat. He closes his eyes for a moment and pulls back, standing straight, looking down upon me like the imposing man that he is. “Why aren’t you upstairs?”
    “Strippers are not really my thing.” I have never enjoyed the thought of some strange man waving his junk in my face, call me a prude but, no.  “What are you doing here?” volleying his question.
    “S omething that had to be taken care of.”
    “What’s her name?” I ask coyly, peeking out from under my lashes. I feel the rush of blood all over my body, releasing my inner flirt. She is bad when she wants to be.
    “Her name is work,” he returns flatly. Oh, excuse me, Mr. Grump. He can be so cold, his mood flips on a dime. His face is stern and offers nothing. Feeling the need to divert his attention and douse my rising temperature I reach for his crystal glass.
    “What are we drinking?” I ask bringing the glass