People say the youngest child has it easy, but nothing can be further from the truth. Unlike my two sisters, Violet and Lily, I’m never in the limelight. I just work my butt off for Fleur Cosmetics and get little to no thanks for it. I’ve been pushed too far one too many times, and I’m finally brave enough to do something about it.
Maybe my newfound courage has something to do with the amazing pink and white diamond necklace I wear to the party in Cannes. The instant those dazzling heirloom jewels touch my skin, they excite some deep, aching need inside. And when that guy—that totally gorgeous guy—locks eyes with me, I know this nice girl is going to be naughty.
For once it’s my turn. My turn to say no to my father, to outshine my sisters, to walk away from it all—straight into the arms of a mysterious stranger. But what if Caden is much more than I bargained for? Sure, he makes me feel sexy and free in a way I never have before, but there’s something else I can’t quite place—something dangerous. Maybe our “chance” meeting wasn’t so random. Maybe he was looking for me for a reason. Whatever his motive, there’s no going back now.
And maybe I don’t want to.
I sit on the edge of the mattress, not about to give up. I need to get closer to her and eventually get closer to that damn neck- lace she wore. Dexter wants it. He’s been hounding my ass for it. And I’ll get it.
I’d rather focus on her first. Earn her trust. So I’m not casing out her hotel room. I’m not looking for any stray jewelry lying around.
Hell, I’m in too deep now.
I’m here with Rose because I want to be, not because I want to steal something from her.
Yet. Don’t forget the “yet” part at the end of that last thought.
Yeah. Who wants to focus on trying to steal a necklace when I could be sliding back into bed with her? I want to feel the hot, tight clasp of her pussy milking my cock again. I want to feel her touch me, feel her lips on my skin, hear her moan when I hit a spot that feels particularly good. I want to learn all of those spots, memorize them for later. Because there will be a later for Rose and me. I plan on that. And she’d better plan on it too, no matter how much in denial she is.
“Rose.” She turns to look at me, her expression wary. Guarded. I know the feeling. More than anything, I know that look. I’ve been wearing the same guarded expression pretty much all my life. I trust no one. They’re all out to screw me over; it doesn’t matter who they are. I’ve become so good at playing the part, of being whoever I need to be at any given moment, I have no idea who the real me is anymore.
Being with Rose is the closest I’ve felt to myself since I don’t know when. I want to explore this. Explore what we share, what she makes me feel, what we are when we’re together.
She’s ready to kick me out and I’m ready to cling. Talk about a total role reversal. I need to get my head back on straight and focus.
“Caden.” She matches my tone, watching me expectantly. When I don’t say anything she rolls her eyes. “Do you realize I don’t even know your last name? What does that say about me, that I’d let you into my room and—fool around with you for hours and I don’t know your last name? It’s appalling behavior.”
“Appalling behavior? You sound like a crabby old school- teacher.” I want to laugh but I don’t. She’s dead serious. I think she’s just shocked herself with what we’ve done.
I’ve shocked myself too, but in a good way. While she acts like we’ve committed the ultimate sin.
“You wouldn’t understand.” She averts her head as if it pains her to look at me and I move closer to her, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“It’s Kingsley,” I murmur, wishing I could kiss her. Comfort her. But that’s not happening, not yet. I’ve got to take it slow.
She turns, a little gasp escaping her when she discovers how close I am. “What?”
“My last name. It’s Kingsley.”
“Are you serious? Of course it is.” She tosses her hands up in the air, making her breasts jiggle, and I jerk my gaze away from her chest.
New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She’s a workaholic who loves her job. When she’s not busy writing, she also loves to read and travel with her family. She writes new adult and contemporary romance and is published with Bantam and Avon. She also writes romance as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.