Tangled Temptations novel Chapter 317

Brett lowered his gaze to his pale hands. Oblivious to his distraction, she wrapped her arm around his as they left the cemetery. Donny was following behind, umbrella in hand, and a thoughtful look on his face.

The statement Brett had made the previous night, about Miss Olea being dull, could have been interpreted in a different light. Maybe she wasn't actually dull, but merely paled in comparison to something or someone better.

On their way back, Brett asked the driver to take Miss Orlena's car. Full of chatter, Orlena showed no signs of being fazed by the previous night's events. Donny and the driver, were noticeably amused by Brett's unusual tolerance for Orlena's incessant talking.

Midway, Brett received a call from a college friend from Peterborough, inviting him to an afternoon gathering. After a few words, Brett cast a glance at Orlena. Chuckling, he said, "You guys did this on purpose, didn't you? I'm a lone wolf, and you intentionally put me in a situation where I need to bring a date. Are you trying to make my life difficult?"

He ended the call after some lighthearted banter, then turned his attention to Orlena. "Do you want to grab some dinner with me?" he asked. Orlena hesitated, wondering if she would be surrounded by a group of older men. Brett added, "There's a goodie bag for you if you come." That sealed the deal for Orlena.

Back at the hotel, Brett changed his attire. He swapped his formal white shirt and black trousers for a more relaxed look, with two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular arms.

They left the black Lotus sports car behind and headed to a private members-only club, so hidden that only a select few knew of its existence. Although the Horigans were wealthy, they weren't part of this circle, so Orlena had never been to a place like this.

The manager, not daring to make prolonged eye contact with Brett, showed them to their private room with a simple, "Enjoy your evening, Mr. Brett."

Once inside, Brett lit a cigarette, looking like he frequented the place. A respectable looking man approached with a glass of red wine in hand. "Brett, you're a tough man to pin down," he said, then turned towards Orlena with a sly smile. "And who's this young lady? Very prim and proper."

Brett coolly let out a puff of smoke. "She's a someone from my family," he said, but the man was unconvinced. After all, most men at these gatherings usually brought their mistresses, and though Brett had never married, it was common knowledge that he had a few ladies in his life.

As the evening progressed, the men and women in the room started to get a sense of the relationship between Brett and Orlena. When Brett excused himself to use the restroom, Orlena followed, like a puppy trailing its master.

"Brett," she whispered, standing next to him. "It seems like everyone is a bit afraid of you." Brett turned off the golden faucet and lit another cigarette. As he pondered her words, he realized how true they were. While these were his old friends, it was clear that they all wanted to bask in his success.

At that moment, the sound of a man and woman in the throes of passion echoed from the bathroom stalls. Orlena, though naive, understood what was happening. The man and woman were definitely not husband and wife. If they were, they wouldn't have been so desperate, especially not in a public restroom.

Suddenly, it dawned on Orlena. The men in the room had brought their mistresses along, while Brett had brought her. The realization left her feeling disappointed and out of place. Her eyes were reddening, glaring at Brett.

Brett continued to puff on his cigar. His usually refined face was now displaying a trace of the inscrutable depth that was characteristic of mature men.

Orlena was so angry that she kicked him. She had always thought Brett was a man of integrity.

Holding his cigar, Brett gently grasped her wrist and lowered his voice. "Why are you taking out your anger on me over those people behind the wall?"

She continued to stare at him. He obviously knew. But... the place where he was holding her wrist was making her feel all tingly.

Brett put out his cigar, ready to take her away.

Just then, the people inside finished their business. The speed at which they pulled up their pants was terrifyingly fast. They were already coming out, whispering, "Let's hit the bar after the party. This was hardly enough."