Blindfolded Innocence Book 1 Alessandra Torre Read Online Free

  "I'm not sure what you lot have been told well-nigh me, but I'm non nearly as bad every bit they make me out to be." His deliciously deep voice carried a little bit of ego.

I'thou certain y'all are exactly as bad as they make y'all out to be….

Brad De Luca is used to getting whatever and whomever he wants. The premier divorce attorney in town, he's a playboy who'south bedded one-half the city—including his own clients. And when the newest intern at his firm poses a challenge, his seductive prowess goes into overdrive.

Pre-law educatee Julia Campbell is fresh off a failed date and happy with her new independence. Fifty-fifty if she weren't warned abroad from Brad at every turn, she'd know he was bad news. The last thing she needs is a human being who could destroy her job prospects, not to mention her innocence. But earlier she knows it, the incorrigible charmer has her under his spell. His deviant tastes plunge her deep into a forbidden world of sexual exploration…but her heart may not survive the autumn.

Blindfolded Innocence

Alessandra Torre

www.spice-books.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Joey,

my best friend and soul mate. I love y'all forever.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter I

Chapter Two

Chapter 3

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Affiliate Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter 10

Chapter Eleven

Affiliate Twelve

Affiliate Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Affiliate Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Affiliate Xx-2

Chapter 20-Three

Chapter Xx-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Affiliate Xx-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-9

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-Ane

Affiliate Thirty-2

Chapter Xxx-Three

Prologue

I knelt on the floor, a pillow underneath my knees. Blindfolded, I listened intently, waiting for a sign of what was to come. Only the hum of the hotel air conditioner met my ears. Seconds passed, then a minute. Finally, I heard the door open and then click close. Footsteps, muted on the carpeting, behind me. I felt, rather than heard, a male presence laissez passer past my side and come to stand in front of me. Close, so close. I leaned astern slightly. The sound of a zipper being drawn down filled the silent room.

I

Iv months before

I decided to break off my date on a Midweek night at 2:twenty a.m. I was drunk past the point of walking a directly line, merely not yet to the indicate of slurring my speech. Drunk wasn't the best mind-set up to be in to make a life-altering decision, just a sparse drape had finally been ripped away and a truth that I had evaded for the past two years now stood forepart and center in the center of my head, waving its arms and screaming.

Luke was non the 1 for me.

I met Luke equally a sophomore in college. At the fourth dimension I was emotionally vulnerable, recently dumped by the first "beloved of my life" two weeks afterward he took my virginity. That asshole ditched poor deflowered me to run off with a seventeen-year-old blonde, pinkish-toenailed California princess. Luke was different—quiet, brooding, a sensitive soul who seemed absolutely terrified of me. I was bubbly, cute and determined to go over my heartbreak the college style—partying myself into oblivion. I hunted Luke down the way a lioness would a caught baby antelope, making my sole occupation getting him to fall completely and hopelessly in dearest with me—which he did, putting me on a pedestal and worshipping daily at my whim.

I demanded a proposal inside six months, which he gave me willingly—I think—and we began to programme a life together. This life plan was hampered slightly past the fact that Luke was a dreamer with high goals only little follow-through. He enjoyed spending time with me, and not much else. He worked in construction—not in a direction capacity, as I had originally thought, but as a laborer. My bubbly persona started to turn into more of a nagging mother part. Information technology wasn't long before my subconscious started poking me with a sharp, pointy stick. I ignored the abrasive pokes for twelve months, then my subconscious had enough of waiting.

It is weird the things that enter your caput during a breakup. I sat on my bed with Luke sitting side by side to me, and I wondered why I had never purchased a chair for my bedroom. I had a desk and the typical bedside table, but no chair. A chair would have made the situation easier. Sitting next to Luke on the bed was too intimate—his hurting was too close—and I knew I would have to fight to go along from reaching over to condolement him.

I stood up, wobbled slightly and turned to face him. I took a deep breath and delivered the bad news. I think my dramatic breakdown oral communication was hampered slightly by the fact that we were both boozer, only I tried my best to be compassionate, coherent and firm. I accomplished at least two of those objectives.

Luke turned out to have a streak of stalker in him. Despite all the poking and prodding that he had needed to bathe, residual a checkbook and prove upwards for work, it turned out he needed little or no encouragement to spend every waking moment trying to convince me to come back to him. In retrospect, maybe I should accept spent less effort trying to get him to autumn in dear with me. I might accept overshot that objective.

Subsequently ii weeks of avoiding my dwelling, piece of work and anyplace I had frequented during the past 2 years, I decided to leave my crappy flat and even crappier job and kickoff fresh. It was skillful timing. Intern season was starting.

2

My internship at Clarke, De Luca & Broward began on a Monday morning at 8:00 a.one thousand. I sat in the Human being Resources offices with viii other interns and waited for my chaser assignment. Our internships would last for one semester. During that time nosotros would be assigned to an attorney and, for the most part, would be their personal bowwow for the next ten weeks.

I had heard the stories. Liz Renfield, one of the junior partners, once fabricated an intern cover her gynecology appointment. The intern had to sit in the cold stirrups and undergo a total test simply and so Renfield could make a deposition and continue her birth command uninterrupted. Hugo Clarke was patently the dream assignment. He was known to take interns nether his wing and pretty much guaranteed them a salaried position later graduation. Brad De Luca was a skirt chaser, Robert Handler a drunk, and Kent Broward drowned interns in work. At that place were a few new attorneys that hadn't notwithstanding built up reputations, simply I was certain that they would have them shortly plenty.

"Miss Campbell," the throaty-voiced receptionist barked, waving her hand, beckoning me. I stood, smoothed my brim and strode to the front. I was nervous, simply tried to appear calm and nerveless. I came to a end in front of her and waited. "Y'all will be assisting Attorney Kent Broward," she stated. "After orientation, written report to his office, fourth flooring." She dismissed me by turning back to her stack of forms and calling the next victim, Jennifer Hutchinson. I turned and walked back to my seat, passing Jennifer on the way. She gave me a tight, nervous grin, which I returned.

I sat downward on the plastic-wrapped seat and exhaled, releasing the breath that I had not been aware I was holding. Attorney Kent Broward. I could accept gotten worse. Broward worked long hours and expected his interns to do the same, just at least I would get practiced, solid training. If I impressed Broward, I should take no problem getting a stiff recommendation for police school. Word

was that Broward was tough, but not unreasonable, and off-white. I heard Jennifer'southward consignment called out in the background. She received Liz Renfield. Tough break.

Orientation passed slowly, a boring drone of questionnaires, forms and informational videos on topics such as equal opportunity and sexual harassment in the workplace. We had a catered dejeuner in an empty conference room—cold ham-and-turkey sandwiches with fries. I munched on a Frito and listened to the idle chat. The conversation seemed to center around drinks afterwards piece of work and where everyone wanted to become.

"Hops Grill. Julia, that work for y'all?" Trevor, a lanky redhead, leaned toward me as he asked the question.

I shrugged noncommittally. "Hops works for me, if Broward lets me out in time," I said. I didn't expect to make many happy-hour events, at least not for the next 10 weeks. I could probably cross off whatsoever social events, period, until my internship was over.

"I'one thousand sure Broward volition let yous off early today. Information technology is the kickoff solar day, later on all." The optimism came from Todd Appleton, a handsome, athletic type, as he stared into my eyes from across the table.

I smiled at him, trying not to stare at his perfect smiling. Hmm...that view will help the next few months pass quickly. "Maybe. Who'd you get?"

"De Luca," he responded breezily. "Should exist fine. The guy apparently parties more he works."

I glanced at Jennifer. She was typing furiously into her phone, probably updating her boyfriend on her mean solar day. "Jennifer, you going for drinks?" She glanced up, nodded and resumed her texting.

Jane, the Human Resources receptionist, a petite white-haired adult female, who would have seemed motherly if not for her piercing stare and gravelly smoker's voice, strode into the room. "Okay, interns, let'southward move!" she commanded, clapping her hands. "Report to your attorneys and bring all of your things with you!" She clapped her hands once again and began herding usa out. Todd defenseless upward with me on the way out and held the door for me, pressing his paw gently on my back to guide me through the door. I tried not to grin, but felt a flush hit my face. I headed for the stairs and prepared myself for the fourth flooring, and Broward.

Broward was in his forties, tall and baldheaded—shaved baldheaded, in an obvious attempt to hide a receding hairline. He looked similar a runner, thin and in shape. He had his jacket on and was seated behind his desk when I came in. He stood every bit I entered and came around the desk-bound to milkshake my paw. "Julia." He beamed, pumping my hand. "Nice to run into you." I liked him immediately. He seemed intelligent, approachable and trustworthy. Plus, it appeared he had excellent taste in interns. Looking effectually, he grabbed a set up of keys and a stack of files. "Come with me. I'll show y'all your function and start y'all working."

* * *

Four hours after, I paused in my typing and leaned back in my chair. I stretched my artillery and legs and rolled my caput, trying to go the kinks out of my neck. I looked around my office, taking my first real appraisal of the space. Information technology was a nice office, more I had expected as an intern. Night woods-paneled walls, costly cream carpet and expensive, heavy piece of furniture—the room had a definite masculine sense, a cigar bar–type feel. I didn't listen. Girlie, flowery and pink don't exactly inspire fear in the courtroom.

My desk was filled with legal briefs, all covered with Broward's handwritten notes. They all needed to exist summarized and to have his notes implemented. I sighed. Long nights were going to be the norm, generally filled with menial piece of work that would do nothing to farther my work experience. Welcome to the globe of internship. I leaned back over the desk and started in once more.

An hr later, there was a soft knock on my door and Todd Appleton stuck his gorgeous blond caput in. "We're heading out for drinks," he said. "Nevertheless room for you, if you're interested." He looked carefree and relaxed, happily washed for the solar day, his necktie already loosened.

"I remember I'll exist here awhile," I said from behind the stack of briefs. "But thanks for checking."

His gaze traveled from my total desk to the crammed paper-thin file box on the side of my desk. His smiling faded slightly. "All right...I'll take a rain check." He tapped his hand on the door frame twice and and so left, endmost the door backside him.

I rubbed my optics and focused again on Britley 5. Russell Backdrop, an exciting legal battle regarding a dispute over h2o rights on a condominium project. Thrilling. At to the lowest degree Broward was still there as well. I could hear him on the phone, his seat creaking occasionally when he stood up, usually to pace. I bet a track had been worn on his plush carpet from the abiding pacing. My stomach growled. The next twenty-four hours I would know to pack a dinner. Damn Todd and the other interns, with their light workloads and happy-hr drinks. I grumbled a little longer and then tried to refocus my heed.

At 10:00 p.m. Broward knocked on my role door and entered. Tie undone, shirt rumpled, he looked at my wearied face with a gentle smile. "Come on, Julia. Let'south go. You've put in a good beginning 24-hour interval."

I smiled at him wearily. I was and then hungry I was ready to start chewing on a Post-it note; I was certain my butt had officially fused to the leather seat, and my hands were cramping from the nonstop typing. I wanted to come across as a road-hardened legal warrior, but I was also tired to keep upwards the facade. As well, he looked tired besides.

"All right, dominate," I said, grabbing my jacket and shrugging into it. "I won't argue with you, seeing it's my first day." I picked upwardly my purse and followed him down the hall, waving to the tranquillity, round, Hispanic housekeeper who waited at the entrance to Broward'southward role armed with disinfectant and a trash bag. She smiled at me and waited until nosotros passed before scurrying into the office.

"I'll walk you to your car," Broward said—a statement rather than a question. "You lot don't need to be in the parking garage lonely." I nodded my thanks and tried to walk without stumbling.

We got on the elevator. Muted music filled the car. I tried to think of something moderately intelligent to say.

Broward broke the silence. "I buried you in files today. I didn't give y'all a proper introduction to the office. Tomorrow I will give you a bout and the basic background data on everything that y'all volition need. Week subsequently next I will exist in Fort Lauderdale, then I want to get you lot as acclimated and cocky-sufficient as possible."

"Sounds great," I said. Give thanks God, a week of normal hours. I gestured to the ten-year-old gray Toyota Camry, my mom'south old car, now one of two cars in the parking lot, the other a shiny black Lexus, which I assumed was his. "This is mine," I said a flake unnecessarily. "Cheers for walking me." I awkwardly stuck out my mitt and he shook it.

"See y'all tomorrow, Ms. Campbell." Broward smiled and released my mitt.

"Practiced nighttime, Mr. Broward." I nodded, and headed for my auto.

Iii

Vi in the morn came style too freaking early on. The day earlier, I had bounded out of bed, excited about my internship, simply today it took two snooze cycles before I lifted my caput. My warning still sounding, I fumbled to plough it off simply as pounding started on the wall beside my bed. "It's off!" I shouted. Zack, my stoner of a roommate, stopped beating on the wall, probably already halfway back to slumber. He'd had friends over till past iii:00 a.thousand., and they had made no effort to be tranquillity. I had no doubt there would be plenty of fights in the upcoming months over our slumber routines.

After breakfast and a shower, I grabbed a blue sweater-apparel out of the closet and pulled it over my head, cinching a brown belt effectually my waist. Grabbing small fake diamond stud earrings and a purse, I surveyed my shoe options. All sexy and over three inches alpine. Seeing long hours ahead, I realized I would need to purchase some shoes that emphasized comfort over fashion. For at present, I grabbed some gorgeous leather-and-gold stilettos and slid them on.

I arrived at the function at vii:30 a.m. Pulling open the heavy teak doors, I entered the vestibule, nodding to Dorothy, the aboriginal receptionist. "Proficient morning time, Miss Campbell," she said creakily. "Here late last night?�

� Her bemused expression had no trace of pity.

"Not too late," I replied breezily. She grinned at me, her wrinkles accentuated by the motion.

"Accept a good solar day," I heard her phone call as I pressed the door to the stairs and headed for the fourth floor.

The fourth floor—or power floor, as the staff referred to it—was divided into three different wings, one for each partner. Each partner had two secretaries, 2 paralegals and ane intern. Brad De Luca was the exception, with four secretaries and three paralegals. I remembered from orientation that his caseload was double that of any other attorney, including the other two partners. Broward's secretaries were Sheila and Beverly, neither of whom, judging by their empty desks, arrived till 8:00 a.m.

Broward was already in his role, phone to his ear, when I passed his airtight door. I waved at him through the glass and entered my office. Setting my handbag by the door, I switched my prison cell to Silent and then started in on the pile stacked on my desk-bound. I was halfway through the first brief when Broward appeared in the doorway.

"Expert morning," he said distractedly.

"Good morning."

"Did you brand coffee?" His question acquired me to look up from my estimator.

"Coffee?" I stalled. Is that part of my duties?

"Yep, the kitchen with the coffeepot is on the third flooring. I'm distressing I didn't requite y'all the proper bout, but I thought they might have covered that in orientation." A telephone began ringing in his part, and he glanced back at me with agitation.

"Yes, I'll get it now." I stood quickly and smoothed down my dress. He disappeared, and I heard him reply his phone a few seconds later.

Java. Okay, I tin can do this. Are Trevor and Todd brewing freaking coffee?

I found the 3rd-floor kitchen without too much trouble and stared at the circuitous stainless steel coffeepot. I came from a noncoffee family. I had never desired to attach myself to a caffeine habit, and had treated coffee the aforementioned mode I treated cigarettes, drugs and—until I was nineteen—sexual activity. I stayed away from them, and they stayed away from me. Therefore, my coffee education rivaled that of a newborn.

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