Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He chuckles softly. “I know exactly what beguiling means, Emily. I write songs, remember?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” I raise an eyebrow. “Come to think of it, you didn’t answer my first query either. Why are you doing this? You said I could ask.”
He nods. “I did. But I never said I’d answer.”
So he’s playing that game. Good enough. I can play with the best of them. He thinks I’m beguiling? Fine. I’ll be beguiling. I deliberately drop my gaze to the ground for a second and then look back up. “What if I answer a question for you?”
“What if you do?”
“Surely there must be something you’d like to know about me. Something that wasn’t in the detailed biography Evangeline prepared. I’ll answer honestly anything you ask…on the condition that you answer me honestly as well.”
“How will you know I’m being honest?”
“I’ll know.” I burn him with my gaze.
“Very well. Why are you here, Emily?”
Is he bloody serious? Why wouldn’t I be here? Why wouldn’t any woman jump at the chance to live on a tropical island with all expenses paid? Gourmet food, excellent wine and liquor, new clothes, and the chance to meet four eligible bachelors looking for relationships? Nothing is required other than meeting the men. We don’t have to get physical unless we want to, and we don’t have to marry one, even if he asks. We don’t have to do anything other than be here and meet them. Interact with them. As my assistant, Greta, would say, “It’s a no brainer.”
So I answer him honestly. Mostly honestly. “I’m here to meet you.”
Sebastian’s whisky eyes smolder. “You said you’d be honest.”
“I am being honest.” Just not wholly honest.
We’re all here to meet the four of them. It’s in the agreement. Everything else is icing on the cake—and we all know the icing is the best part.
“All right then. Here’s the answer to your question. The first way.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You asked what I meant by beguiling. Charming? Or deceptive? I meant charming.”
“You know exactly what question I want answered.” I drain the last of the champagne from my flute. “Why, Sebastian? Why are you here? The real reason.”
“First you answer another for me. Quid pro quo, right?”
I resist rolling my eyes. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
He takes a step toward me, closing the short distance between us. My skin heats. He’s hardly my type, so why am I reacting this way?
“I want to know what makes you hot, Emily,” he whispers. “What makes you wet? What makes you need to squeeze those luscious thighs together?”
I swallow, willing my legs not to turn to jelly.
“If I answer, you’ll tell me what I want to know?”
“Yes. If you’re honest with me about what makes you hot. What makes your flesh sizzle? What makes your knees weak? What turns you to melted butter, Emily?”
Easy enough for someone as blunt as I am.
“You do, Sebastian. Right now, at this moment, the answer is you.”
He trails one finger over my cheek and down my jawline. Just that slight touch lights a fire between my legs.
“It’s the truth? You’re hot for me right now?”
Can’t he tell? My chest is rosy and my nipples are straining against the flimsy fabric of my dress. “Yes. God, yes.”
“Good. So good. Do you still want me to answer your question, Emily? Or would you rather I take you somewhere and fuck you against a wall?”
3
Guilty As Charged
Sienna
You never marry the rebound guy, no matter how rich and good looking he is.
Of course, these men go way beyond merely rich and good looking.
As usual, I’m the wallflower of the bunch. I feel like I’m back in high school—the gawky girl with braces who was still flat-chested at sixteen. Calling me a late bloomer is the understatement of the year. I got my braces off and finally filled out senior year, but by then no one noticed—or if they did, they didn’t bother to include me in their already-formed cliques. I was forever the ugly duckling.
College, law school, a thriving career, and one broken engagement later, I’m that gawky girl in a sea of beautiful swans. Again.
I mean, we have an underwear model here for God’s sake. How are any of us supposed to compete with that?
The answer? We’re not supposed to compete at all.
“This isn’t a competition,” Evangeline said on day one. “You ladies are all spectacular, and I’m sure some friendships will be forged among you. But there are only four gentlemen and eight of you. It’s possible the men won’t fall in love with any of you. This is an experiment, so enjoy the fringe benefits.”
Ginger walks toward me, carrying a plate of appetizers. “Aren’t you eating?” she asks.
“Not hungry.” I glance around the expansive outdoor courtyard. Palm trees line one side, and their fronds sway in the light tropical breeze. Tables and cocktail tables are scattered over the paved surface, and a full bar stands near the table of food. Despite feeling invisible, energy surges through me. I came here for a reason—to move forward with my life. To let go of negativity. “Seems two of the gentlemen have already found their targets for this evening.”