The Paradise Problem Read Online Christina Lauren

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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“So you’re saying Alex wouldn’t mind if you lost your inheritance.”

He hesitates long enough for me to notice. “I think as long as I don’t get in his way, he’ll leave me alone. The issue is that even if I try to stay out of his way, Dad might drag me back into it.”

“Is Alex smart enough to take you down?”

This question seems to throw him for a beat. “I don’t know. If he was truly smart, he would already know enough to not try.”

“What does that mean?” I ask. If Alex knew enough, he wouldn’t try to take West down? Is this about the mysterious loophole in the trust?

West doesn’t answer for a few long seconds. And I realize he’s not going to. Whatever. Money is so messy.

“This is some serious K-drama shit,” I mumble.

“You’ll get no argument from me. Everything is so much better when we’re not all together, but…” He gestures around us, and I must assume he means he couldn’t exactly miss his sister’s wedding.

“This is so icky. I always saw the Weston commercials and thought it was, like, this sweet family company.”

“I’ll pass your compliments on to Jake’s marketing team,” he says with a laugh.

I like his voice. I like his laugh, too. And my filter is fried after all the hard work tonight; the words tumble out of me: “You have a nice laugh.”

He sobers, glancing at me and then quickly away. “Thanks.”

What a sudden change in his demeanor. I can’t help but call him out on it. “Such a flirt, too.”

“We don’t have to flirt when we’re alone.”

Something flies overhead and I remember the conservation material saying we might see fox bats at night, and to simply leave them alone if we do. I blink up at the sky, hoping to see one. “Maybe if we did, it would feel more convincing that we’re married.”

Frowning, West concedes, “True.”

We reach the entrance to our bungalow, and I follow him inside as he sheds his sport coat. I don’t know how he managed to keep it on. I’m practically naked in this dress and sweating in the humidity.

A glance around the room shows that housekeeping has been here. The bed is turned down, the gauzy curtains drawn. More importantly, the cookie jar has been refilled.

West sits on the bench and pulls a shoe off. I set my clutch down on a shelf in the open closet. “I’m thinking Alex will take a keen interest in exactly how happy we seem.” I narrow my eyes, staring into the distance. “West… this assignment is no longer just ‘show up and wear a wedding ring.’ ”

West is still holding the shoe he took off, and he stares down at it in his hand. “I think you’re right. I was hoping it would be enough to show up, but it’s going to take more than that.”

“This is actually kind of fun!” I walk over to him, taking the shoe and then his other one, and setting them near the wall. “I realize incomprehensible sums of money are at stake here, but for me, it’s like a murder mystery party.”

Finally, he blinks out of his trance, looking up at me in silent question.

“You know,” I say, waving my hand forward. “Being suspicious of everyone. Wearing costumes. Getting progressively drunker as the party goes on.” I walk to the bathroom area. “Don’t peek.” I sip my drink. “Or do peek. What do I care?” I peel off the itchy cocktail dress and reach for one of the fluffy bathrobes, muttering, “These robes are the shit.”

“They are really soft,” he agrees.

Bending to wash my face, I say, “You going to be okay sharing a bed?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

I scrub the soap into a lather. “Sure. I basically fall asleep and don’t move an inch all night, so it doesn’t matter to me where you are.”

Patting my face dry, I walk behind the half wall to where our clothes have so helpfully been put away, pull out a pair of very silky, very skimpy pajamas Vivi packed for me, and hold them up. “Fuck me.”

“What?” he asks from the other side.

“I let Vivi shop for this trip and she got me slutty pj’s.”

“You’ll be under the covers,” he says.

“With you,” I say with false misery, and he laughs that low, seductive sound.

“You just assured me you’ll stay on your side of the bed.”

“True. Will you?”

His laugh is confident. “Yes.”

I slip out of the robe and pull on the tiny shorts and tiny tank, and then brush my teeth. It’s only ten, but I’m wiped.

I don’t meet his eyes as I walk to the bed and climb in, and I’m not sure whether I love or hate that he doesn’t seem to look at me at all as he gets up to go get ready for bed. A handful of minutes later, West shuts off the lights, climbing in beside me.


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