But all that money couldn’t give me Faith Mortimer, a damaged heiress with secrets of her own. I found her irresistible two years ago, and would’ve laid my empire at her feet…until she betrayed me.
Now she barges into my office, offering marriage, ostensibly to help me fulfill the conditions of my father’s hateful deal. Although I toss her out, I’m curious. Once I realize how desperate she is, I make a counteroffer that leaves her vulnerable and defenseless.
However, I never counted on my own machinations leaving me exposed in return…and both our hearts are going to break before this is over…
A small lamp in the living room’s on, and I frown. Did Blake forget to turn it off? I take a bottle of water and walk over, then stop.
He’s stretched out on the couch, tablet in hand, a finger of scotch on the table in front of him. All he’s got on are the loose black pants from earlier and a pair of glasses. The effect is devastating, all the more because he doesn’t mean it to be—a perfect combination of lickable body and amazing brain. His torso is totally bare, his shoulders broad, chest thick. His abs are ridged with clear definition even in repose, and his arms are lean and muscled and eminently nibbleable. The dusting of dark hair below the navel disappears underneath the waistband of his pants, and I pull my lips in, wishing I could do more than just look.
He glances up from his tablet.
I flush, embarrassed at being caught staring. “I wanted to get something to drink.” I gesture at the kitchen. “Why are you still up?”
“Couldn’t sleep, so I was reviewing a few proposals.”
“I see.” I clear my throat. “Well…think I’ll go back to sleep now,” I say, then stop. He knows I wasn’t sleeping.
He sits up and places his tablet on the coffee table. “Before you go… About what you said during dinner—”
I raise a hand. “Don’t.”
“Faith—”
“It’s in the past, and I don’t want to talk about it again, Blake.”
His eyes get that stubborn look I’m all too familiar with. He had the same expression when he asked me out that first time and I declined. I had an early shift the next day and I didn’t want to waste my time with a guy who was in Vegas for a couple of days on business.
I put the bottle of water next to his tablet. “I mean it. You got all your questions answered.” My heart thuds. This is my chance. I place my palm against his chest, then push him against the back of the sofa. His skin’s hot underneath mine, and I lick my lips. “The only thing I want out of your mouth is something filthy. Otherwise…”
He drops his gaze to my lips, his throat working. But the words out of his mouth are anything but filthy. “I meant what I said in New York.”
This man is slaying me, little by little. “I know.” I place my left knee by his right hip. “That’s why I’m taking advantage of you late at night—to use you for sex.” I swing my right knee over to where it’s flush against his left hip.
One dark eyebrow quirks up. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to be my boy toy and you don’t owe me anything for what I’m about to do to you.”
He’s stretched out on the couch, tablet in hand, a finger of scotch on the table in front of him. All he’s got on are the loose black pants from earlier and a pair of glasses. The effect is devastating, all the more because he doesn’t mean it to be—a perfect combination of lickable body and amazing brain. His torso is totally bare, his shoulders broad, chest thick. His abs are ridged with clear definition even in repose, and his arms are lean and muscled and eminently nibbleable. The dusting of dark hair below the navel disappears underneath the waistband of his pants, and I pull my lips in, wishing I could do more than just look.
He glances up from his tablet.
I flush, embarrassed at being caught staring. “I wanted to get something to drink.” I gesture at the kitchen. “Why are you still up?”
“Couldn’t sleep, so I was reviewing a few proposals.”
“I see.” I clear my throat. “Well…think I’ll go back to sleep now,” I say, then stop. He knows I wasn’t sleeping.
He sits up and places his tablet on the coffee table. “Before you go… About what you said during dinner—”
I raise a hand. “Don’t.”
“Faith—”
“It’s in the past, and I don’t want to talk about it again, Blake.”
His eyes get that stubborn look I’m all too familiar with. He had the same expression when he asked me out that first time and I declined. I had an early shift the next day and I didn’t want to waste my time with a guy who was in Vegas for a couple of days on business.
I put the bottle of water next to his tablet. “I mean it. You got all your questions answered.” My heart thuds. This is my chance. I place my palm against his chest, then push him against the back of the sofa. His skin’s hot underneath mine, and I lick my lips. “The only thing I want out of your mouth is something filthy. Otherwise…”
He drops his gaze to my lips, his throat working. But the words out of his mouth are anything but filthy. “I meant what I said in New York.”
This man is slaying me, little by little. “I know.” I place my left knee by his right hip. “That’s why I’m taking advantage of you late at night—to use you for sex.” I swing my right knee over to where it’s flush against his left hip.
One dark eyebrow quirks up. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to be my boy toy and you don’t owe me anything for what I’m about to do to you.”
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I'm used to cleaning up after my boss, Hollywood superstar and all-around bad boy Ryder Pryce-Reed. Nothing can shock me now--not the countless "humped and dumped” women or the wreckage left in the wake of his wild ways--until he asks me to marry him...
...for a year.
He says it's strictly so he can claim his beloved grandfather's painting, but I know there's more. There's always more with Ryder.
My instincts say no, but he's offering to take care of the baby in my womb. Since my self-centered ex isn't going to play the father, I say yes, while steeling my heart. I can't afford to fall for a man who only wants me for a year.
But how can I resist the sexiest man alive when he turns on his formidable charm to give everyone a good show? And how does a simple girl like me deal with the spotlight as his fiancée...or the scandal that explodes in our faces?
Note: This book contains a cliffhanger.
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Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she's not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.
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I've made money hand over fist, too. But I've spent it hand over shovel.
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