Captivated By You (Twisted Love #1)
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Authors: Wanitta Praks
Captivated By You
Twisted Love Book One
WANITTA PRAKS
Romance with Emotion
Copyright © 2015 by Wanitta Praks
All Rights Reserved
This book is rated R18. It contains coarse languages and explicit love scenes that are unsuitable for minor. Discretion is advised.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book was self-published by the author Wanitta Praks. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without agreement and written permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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Captivated By You
Twisted Love Book One
WANITTA PRAKS
Romance with Emotion
PROLOGUE
“Girls, girls, all this talking about summer work is really boring me. Let’s talk about boys,” I announced while sipping my wine. And when three pairs of eyes stared back at me blankly, I could only shrug my shoulder. “What? Can’t a girl have some fun?”
“Kimmy, your idea of fun is to seduce a guy, then leave him high and dry. Am I right?” Joanna accused me.
“Hey, hey, a girl can flirt, but that doesn’t mean any guy can get under her skirt,” I retorted.
“You just like to mess with people’s lives, like the puppet master you are,” Amelia commented, shaking her head.
“I so don’t,” I chided, smiling at my friends Amelia, Joanna, and Theresa, who were busy drinking and eating their meals.
We were out celebrating our end-of-year exam at Italiano, a restaurant in town, and their conversation about their proposed work over the summer holiday really did bore me so much that I had to say something just to change the topic. And now they were all pressuring me into admitting I was the puppet master who enjoyed controlling men, all due to my playful nature.
“Don’t argue with us. We know you, Kimmy,” they all chorused, shutting me off.
I couldn’t negate that last comment. I was always seen out and about with a different guy each month. But that didn’t mean they owned my heart nor my body. It was what I called my game of date selection.
How would I know who my future spouse was if I didn’t go out on dates? Amelia liked to blame it on my playful nature. As for me, I thought this trait could be attributed to my birthright. My father was a highly established businessperson, owning almost half the malls and properties in New Zealand. I always thought this was an important aspect of my life, finding the right man comparable to my status. But unluckily, the end of my journey to finding the right man seemed light-years away. Then again, I was only nineteen and still in college. A long way to go before settling down and finding a suitable man to meet my father’s approval.
“And how is Simon?” I changed the topic again.
Amelia looked a little troubled. She put down her fork and took a sip of water.
Something was up.
“Amelia, what’s wrong?” I immediately asked.
“I haven’t heard back from Simon yet,” she commented.
I thought it was just plain lies.
“Look at me.” I couldn’t help myself and pulled her face to meet mine. It was always like this. This compassionate and justice-seeking nature of mine always unleashed whenever one of my friends was in trouble. “Tell me, did he do something to you?”
“No, of course not.” She shook her head, making me drop my hands.
“Then what is it?” I asked again. By this time, the whole table was quiet. Joanna and Theresa were both looking at us.
“Yeah, what is it, Amelia?” Joanna echoed my thought again.
“Guys, it’s nothing. I’m just relieved our exams are over,” she said and then proceeded to fork another mouthful of spaghetti into her mouth.
I wasn’t one to be fooled. I’d known Amelia for two years now and this was the behavior she usually exhibited if something troubled her. While the other two went back to their food and laughed merrily over some joke, I focused all my attention on Amelia.
“Simon hasn’t been calling you?” I whispered to her so the other two didn’t overhear our conversation.
“He’s busy, Kimmy.” She sighed, as if not wanting to pursue the subject any further.
Abruptly, a chair was pulled out, and my focused shattered, shifting to Joanna who only beamed her bright smile at me.
“Sorry, got to dash to the loo. Too much water,” she said before heading off.
“I’ll come too,” Theresa said before they both went off in the direction of the ladies’ room.
I turned my attention back to Amelia.
“When was the last time he contacted you?” I asked immediately, no longer concealing my voice. In the far distance, I could hear Joanna and Theresa laughing about something.
“Do we have to go through this, Kimmy? We’ve just finished our exams. Let’s just eat, talk, and have fun.”
“We are eating”—I held up my own plate of spaghetti to show her—“and talking; about your boyfriend. And the other two are laughing. Hence, they’re having fun. So talk.”
“Oh, Kimmy,” she laughed and shook her head.
I felt much happier at that point to see her smile. But I didn’t give up. I urged her on.
“It’s been three week since I last talked to Simon.”
“Three weeks!” I gaped. “Are you kidding me? All my previous boyfriends didn’t even give me two hours of peace before they rang my damn phone. I almost give in to my urges to smash that damn phone into smithereens sometimes. Have you tried texting him? Calling him?”
“Don’t give me that look of disbelief. I called him before coming here. He said he’s busy. He’s taking his bar exam after all. He needs to study. I don’t want to interrupt him.”
“So what? As his girlfriend, you have the right to interrupt him. I say go see him tomorrow.”
“That was my intention.”
“So what did he say when you called him?”
Amelia was quiet again. She was pushing her food around in her plate with her fork again.
“Amelia! What is it?” I drummed when she refused to answer me.
“Hey… hey, what are you two talking about?”
I looked up to see the other two back in their seats and staring at me. I knew Amelia wouldn’t like her problem advertised to the other two since she wasn’t that close to them, so I let the subject go.
“No. Nothing.” I pretended to wave aside the subject, deciding to dig deeper at a later time. “Oh hey, I heard there’s a new club called Moonlight. We should definitely go clubbing there tonight. What do you think, Joanna, Theresa?”
“I’m all for it,” Theresa said, agreeing on the spot.
“Joanna?”
“All in. It’s been ages since I busted my moves on the dance floor.”
“Amelia?” I asked, looking at my friend.
“Sure, why not?” she said after a long moment.
Not knowing she’d fallen into my trap, I smiled mischievously as we all headed out to Moonlight.
***
Out on the dance floor, the music was loud. Theresa and Joanna were already out shaking their booties. Amelia wanted to join them too, but I held her back and gave her a cocktail.
“We need to talk. Like right now.”
“Okay. I’m all yours.”
I smiled.
“So…” I got into the mood of things, ready to fire my questions. “Tell me—”
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” someone said next to my ear. I turned a sour face toward that someone for interrupting my concentration.
It was a man. Who was clearly drunk.
Someone should definitely kick him out of the club.
“No, thank you,” I said before turning to my friend again.
“Oh, come on. Just one drink. Want do you say?” He continued to bug me.
“I said no. Now bugger off,” I told him in a heated tone. But clearly, he didn’t get the message as he took liberty with my bare skin and touched my arm.
“Oh, come on. Don’t play coy. With that dress on, you’re just begging me to fuck you, right?” he whispered into my ear.
I turned red. Sultry chestnut hair, curled to flirt around my shoulders, and wearing a deep, rich red sleeveless dress, I was a goddess on the dance floor. I couldn’t complain when he said I was begging to be fucked. I really did dress to impress. Although, to be fucked was not my intention.
I tore his fingers off my arm, disgusted at the way he degraded me. I pushed him off the stool, pleased when his butt hit the floor with a big thump.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” I warned him. “Get away from me, you disgusting toad, or you’ll be sorry.”
I wasn’t kidding when I said he’d be sorry. If Papa knew I’d been manhandled by any man, they’d be sure to never get a job in their life. Coming from an influential family with connections, I made sure no man had the liberty to touch me if I didn’t wish it.
“Who’s a fucking toad, you bitch.” He didn’t heed my warning and swore at me.
“I’m talking to you, you gutless bastard. Clearly, you don’t understand the human language. So get out of my sight.”
“What if I say no?”
“No?” I hissed. “How about this?” I threw my cocktail into his face. “Now go!”
His face brewed an evil storm. “You fucking bitch.”
He pulled me up close and glared at me. His foul breath threw me off. His touch sent a wave of revulsion through my body.
“I said don’t touch me,” I yelled, peeling away at his fingers.
By this stage, I was aware many eyes in the club were on me. But I didn’t care. This bastard needed to be taught a lesson. But before I could pick up Amelia’s drink and toss another dose of cocktail venom at him, he had his palms up in the air. And I felt it before I saw it, that hand advancing towards me. And I knew I couldn’t escape.
It was too fast. I closed my eyes, waiting for that palm to slice my cheek, to feel the sting, whatever it was—something at least—but… there was nothing.
I opened my eyes and saw black. No, it was someone standing in front of me, wearing a black suit. I tilted up my head and saw ink-black hair. It was someone coming to my rescue. And it wasn’t until that someone spoke that I realized I was holding my breath.
“The lady said not to touch her,” that person spoke, his commanding tone vibrating off his back.
At that point, I felt my knees weakening. That voice, it did something to me. And the next thing I knew, toad face bastard ran off like the little rat he was and deep baritone voice man turned towards me.
I froze, suspended in time. My breath caught in my throat and my arms became limp. He was a beautiful man. Large deep-grey eyes, the color of a brewing storm, straight-set eyebrows, inky black hair slicked back in a fashionable style, long Roman nose and a mouth made only for kissing. I swallowed while my heart continued to thump in that odd crescendo, about to explode.
I wanted him to talk again. I wanted to hear his voice again so I could wake up from this delirious state. But it was my friend Amelia’s voice that got through to me.
“Kimmy, are you all right?” she asked.
“Huh?” I turned my attention to Amelia, and it was a moment I deeply regretted. It was only for a split second, but by the time I regained my equilibrium, Mr. Baritone-voice had already disappeared.
“Kimmy?” Amelia shook me awake again when she saw my eyes searching for that man in the black suit. But he was gone. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said absentmindedly.
“Kimmy!” Amelia shouted at me again.
“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. Now where were we? Oh yes, we were talking about Simon, right?”
“I don’t want to talk about Simon. Come on. Let’s go dance. It’s safer than hanging out here.”
She dragged me out to the middle of the dance floor, where we found Theresa and Joanna. They didn’t witness the disturbing event previously, so both didn’t notice my troubled state.
We were dancing. My body was shaking, my legs were moving, but I was like a rigid doll, moving along to the beat of “Pound the Alarm” by Nicki Minaj, without a soul and purpose to my step. My head was too preoccupied with the man with grey eyes.
Who was he? He clearly wasn’t a college student, judging from the way he was dressed. He could be from overseas, having a business meeting here. He did sound Australian. But it was damned eleven o’clock at night already, and if he clearly wanted to entertain his clients, then shouldn’t he pick a club that wasn’t ninety percent populated with students?
My mind went around and around in an endless loop.
Why am I thinking about this stranger when I only saw him for less than five minutes? Why am I so captivated by him?
I didn’t want to think about him anymore. It wasn’t like I’d be seeing him again. And just like that, I relaxed, closed my eyes, and moved my body as a new song began, “Disturbia” by Rihanna.
“What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel like this? I’m going crazy now,” I lip-synced, closing my eyes. “Your mind’s in disturbia. It’s like the darkness is the light. Disturbia. Am I scaring you tonight? Disturbia. Ain’t used to what you like. Dis—”
I opened my eyes at that moment and sucked in my breath. Right there, staring right back at me with the same intensity, was the man with grey eyes.
My heart pumped, my throat ran dry, and at that moment, I begged the universe for him to speak again. But the distance between where he sat in his private booth and the dance floor where I danced were light-years away.
How do I show him I’m interested in him?
Remain eye contact. Don’t ever waver. Look him straight in the eye. Flirt with him. Toss your hair about. Dance seductively around your friend. And no matter what, remain eye contact at all times.
I did all of the above, tossing my hair, flirting with my eyes, looking at him beneath my lashes while constantly keeping eye contact with him.
He was gripping his flute of champagne very tightly. His lips pressed into a firm sexy line. And his eyes remained focused on me. Did he feel that attraction too?