Taming the Heiress Read Online Free Page B

having
my mother stare my almost-date down is pretty awkward
nonetheless.
    "I like your styling," she finally offers
with a merciful smile, and Francesca smiles gratefully while I
breathe a sigh of relief. She might not know it, but a compliment
like that from my mother means a lot .
    "Thank you, Mrs. Hunter," Francesca says,
smiling a little awkwardly. "You look beautiful today. Are you
wearing Cartier?"
    My mother's hand flutters to her neck, where
a thick necklace encrusted with jewels is resting. "Indeed I am,"
she says, looking intrigued. "You have a good eye."
    Francesca blushes with pleasure and it makes
me weirdly happy to see these two connecting like they just did. My
good mood might have come too soon though, because my mother has a
new slew of questions for us, starting with one I very well can't
answer.
    "So!" she says enthusiastically, looking
around, probably to check if there's a photographer around that she
should pay attention to. Finding no one of importance, she focuses
back on us. "Did you enjoy the movie?"
    Francesca flushes in such a deep shade of
pink it's almost purple and I actually have to bite back a laugh.
My comments, however, come out uncensored.
    "Loved it, Mom," I say enthusiastically. "I
think Francesca liked it even more than I did though! Every time I
looked at her, she was flushed and fanning herself. Especially
during the sex parts."
    Francesca looks like she wishes the earth
would open underneath her and swallow her whole, but not before she
smacks me silly. And it makes me weirdly happy to get a rouse out
of her.
    My mother looks quite shell-shocked as well,
but pretty soon, her expression is replaced by a pleasant smile.
"Yes, the love scene were very artistic, weren't they?" she says
dreamily.
    Let me tell you, I caught a glimpse of the
sex scenes while I was playing with Francesca, and nothing about
seeing your mother's bare breasts jumping up and down on a big
movie screen screams artistic to me.
    But I can't resist the opportunity to
torment my little sex kitten even more.
    "Indeed," I say with a somber nod.
"Francesca is quite artistic, that's probably why she got so into
them. I could swear I caught her panting at one point."
    My mother laughs pleasantly, the sound of
which is cut short as her name is called by a slew of
photographers. She excuses herself politely and I'm left alone with
a steaming date by my side.
    "Wasn't that fun?" I ask with a smirk on my
face, finally turning to look her in the eye.
    And what I see surprises me, because
Francesca's eyes are filled to the brim with hot tears of
humiliation.
     
    Before I can react, her hand hits my face
with a loud 'smack' and she turns around and storms off, while I
stand there, the sound of her slap resonating in my ears and a
burning sensation spreading through my cheek.
    "Trouble in paradise, Kaiden?" a
photographer shouts at me, and of course, I realize they got it all
on their cameras.
    How's that for a hot story?

Chapter 8
FRANCESCA
    I don't think I can eat another scoop of ice
cream for the rest of my life.
    For the past week, all I've been doing is
being cooped up in the apartment, eating junk food when my tummy
aches get too bad. Basically, I've been existing on Ben &
Jerry's Cookie Dough, and a box of donuts Emmalee brought to my
place a few days ago, worried about me.
    The donuts are all that is left now, since I
can't fathom eating another spoon of ice cream, and since they're
so old they've gotten moldy, I'd rather not risk it.
    At that point, I realize I can't stay in my
apartment for ever.
    Never mind the fact I've been told that by
Emma, my housekeeper, my brother and both my parents. I needed the
time to heal, because the past week has been nothing but a shit
storm of blog posts, tabloid articles and general terrible
gossip.
    It started with Kaiden's damn interview. And
then someone took a photo of me arriving at his place, which was
just perfect, because it kicked off further speculation.
    Of course, it