Dirty Read Free Page A

think that's why I like Thai food
so much. All you need is a bowl and your hands." He watched her
unlock her little compact. "This is adorable. Will I fit inside or
shall I ride on the hood?"
    "If you get stuck I have a shoe horn in my
purse," she said. "Or I can just shove you in the trunk."
    "The things I do for my art," he said as he
eased his bulk into the passenger seat.
    It took only a few minutes to reach the
producer's house, which had been designed by an architect famous
for his Art Deco aesthetic. Marielle was stopped at the entrance to
the drive by a studio security guard smiled at Raven before opening
the gates.
    "If you need anything at the house, just let
me or the guard know," Marielle said as she parked by the
glass-walled front entrance. "Also, if you want in-house security,
I'm sure Vanessa can arrange that as well."
    "You mean you'll arrange it and let her take
the credit," he said as he walked with her to unlock the front
door.
    "Making the director look good is my job.
That way when she pisses off everyone they'll have reasons to
forgive her." She stepped inside, switched on the lights and took a
moment to appreciate the two-story crystal chandelier hanging over
the front foyer. "Holy cow. Major sparkly."
    "Most of these places are." Raven strolled
into the great room on the left, where an enormous buffet of
gourmet food sat waiting. "I hope you're hungry, Fairchild. Or you
have a thousand plastic bags, and a very large dog."
    Raven kept up the friendly banter as they
dined together, which allowed most of the knot in Marielle's
stomach to dissipate. If his charm was an act, she decided while
they tidied up together, it was world-class. Paired with his wry
sense of humor and fabulous looks made James Raven practically
irresistible.
    "Well, Fairchild," he said as they left the
kitchen for the living room, which had one long mirrored wall that
reflected everything. "Are you finally ready to become my sex
slave?"
    "That's why they pay me the medium bucks."
The joke didn't make her feel any less nervous as she sat down on
the sofa and opened the script. Raven staring at her wasn't
helping, either. "Where do you want to start?"
    "Let's warm up with Melanie's preliminary
protest on page 34." He studied her face. "You already look
worried. Why?"
    "I can't act," she said. "Not even a little
bit. So be prepared for me to suck." She felt her cheeks flush. "I
mean, to read terribly."
    He gave her a lazy smile. "Just feed me the
lines, Fairchild. Start at the top of the page."
    Marielle looked at the script, took a deep
breath and began to read. "I don't know why you've brought me here,
Maestro. I'm a street performer. I don't belong in your world."
    "Our world, darling." Raven's voice went low
and deep. His expression shifted from easy and open to dark and
brooding. "Music is our home, our country, our universe, and our
prison. We can never escape it. I brought you here to show you
that."
    "How? By making me perform for you?" Marielle
read. "I can never match your expertise, no matter what I
play."
    Raven's eyes darkened as they bored into
hers. "You have it wrong, Melanie. You're here for me to play."
    She swallowed and shook her head. "Isn't it
enough that I already worship you? Do you have to rub my face in it
by showing me how much better you are?"
    "My darling, you are the instrument." Raven
frowned and shook his head. "No, that's not it. What is it?"
    "The line is 'You are the instrument, my
little slut,'" she read from the script. "Wow. He just calls her
that, right to her face?"
    "Aside from being a control freak and a
genius, Maestro is a dominant," Raven said. "He recognizes
Melanie's inherent passivity."
    Marielle felt confused, both by the concept
of a woman wanting a man to dominate her and Raven's evident
intimate knowledge of the subject. "So that makes her a slut?"
    "A slut for him, yes." He smiled a little.
"Some experts believe we're all either dominant or submissive
personalities. That we're doomed