Too Good to Be True Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
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When he saw me in the turret, he fully came in.

“Am I driving Lou to the station?” he asked as he sauntered my way.

“She’s leaving in the morning. She’s going to kick back tonight. She’s still a little headachy. Her train leaves at nine thirty.”

“Right. I’ll let her know I’ll be ready at eight thirty to take her to town.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ian. I can drive her.”

“You can come with, but I need to get out of this house.”

That sounded awesome. “Then I’m coming with, because I do too.”

After I said that, I quickly moved my legs because he was aiming his ass at the lounge where they were resting.

“Are we hanging out?” I joked.

He sprawled, legs stretched in front of him, crossed at his ankles, and linked his fingers behind his head. “I showed you mine, your turn to show me yours.”

All right.

Flirty banter aside…

Were we doing this?

And if we were, what was this?

I rotated to sit on my ass and scooted up so I was leaning against the high back swoop at the corner of the lounge, my legs crossed in front of me.

“I think it’s kinda important I know what’s happening here, Ian,” I said quietly.

He watched closely as I moved and spoke, his expression shifting, and he replied in the same tone, “I think I’m distraught you don’t already know, Daphne.”

“You’re a huge flirt. You have been since the beginning.”

“I am. But not unless I want to sleep with the woman I’m chatting up.”

He unlinked his hands and held one palm out my way when I opened my mouth.

I shut it.

He went on, “I’m understanding at my request this morning you’re now needing full disclosure, so allow me to share that yes, in the beginning, I simply wanted to fuck you. But unfortunately, you’re plucky and witty and I have this damned weakness for a woman with an American accent. Not to mention black lace bras, flawless skin, fantastic fucking hair and zero patience for fuckwittery. So I’m afraid the bad news is, I like you for more than a brief week-in-the-country fling.”

“Plucky?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“Do you really have a weakness for women with American accents?”

“A development I discovered Friday night.”

I smiled at him because he was funny, and I was super, mega relieved that he was where I was with what was happening between us.

“I have a lot of baggage, honey,” I warned.

He looked around and then peered out the window before he came back to me and raised his brows.

I chuckled.

He reached out to wrap his fingers around my ankle and gave it to me straight.

“I’m absolute shit at relationships.”

And again, that was a relief. The honesty, and that we shared that trait.

“My father was a cheat. My ex-husband was a cheat.”

“I know,” he said gently.

“I don’t know what it does to a man to see a woman he cares about suffer because of behavior like that, but you haven’t made a secret you’re struggling with processing it with your dad. I will say, that’s a one and done for me. I admire women who have that forgiveness in them. I tried it with François. I lost five years to that forgiveness when I should have been living my life without the heartache he brought into it. It’s a mistake I probably won’t make again.”

“I would not ever do that to you or any woman, darling,” Ian assured. “It’s my staying power you need to be warned about.”

I covered his hand on my ankle. “I might not have investigators like you do, but I’m hell on wheels with a Google search, babe. So that isn’t lost on me. Now I’m warning you, my mom was bitter, and I have some of that ingrained in me. Dad imploding our family. François making a fool of me and killing the love I had for him. Watching Lou fade and shine depending on whether Dad had a mistress or remembered he had a wife. You might think me plucky, but it’s the circumstances. Normally, I’m a resolute cynic.”

“So we’re both going in eyes open.”

“Yes. Eyes open.”

He stared at me.

I stared at him.

We kept doing this.

The longer we did, the more my nipples tingled.

Because this was happening. Really happening. The friendly and the flirty.

And I wanted it badly.

I also wanted to jump him, and I wanted that badly too, but the minute the thought entered my head, he whispered, “Tonight, after dinner, in the Conservatory. I want to kiss you first there.”

“Why?” I whispered back.

“Because I knew I wanted to fuck you when you said, ‘Mutual, I’m sure.’”

I smirked.

“Though it could have been your cleavage,” he admitted mock ruefully.

That made me laugh.

He continued, “And I knew you were interesting when you called me on my shit and took your sister’s back. But I knew I wanted to know you when you met me in the Conservatory.”


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