Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
The stranger stares at me with a look I can’t read. It’s not happy, but it’s not upset either. More like he’s curious, like he’s trying to get a read on me. I stare back and school my face, refusing to let him know that I find him attractive, and I feel the force of this moment threaten to pulverize me into a wet little paste.
“Ladies,” Ronan says, nodding from Kim to me. “I’d like to introduce Julien Moreau.”
“Hello, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and there’s the slightest hint of a French accent. It’s obscenely sexy and almost unfair.
This is the man I’m supposed to marry. I half expected some old, out-of-shape, overweight guy on his third wife, but this is the total opposite. Julien’s youngish, probably in his mid-thirties, and seems fit and handsome like he’s straight off the pages of a fashion magazine. There’s a coolness to him, like he’s holding a piece of himself in reserve, and I find that insanely attractive. I want to tear him open and find out everything I can about him. I want him to make me work for it too.
“Julien, this is Kim Hayes, my cousin—” Ronan gestures to Kim. “And this is Brianne Campbell.”
He looks from Kim to me, and his eyebrows knit together as his mouth tugs into a small frown. “This one is your cousin?” he asks, nodding at my friend. “But she is not?”
It’s excruciatingly uncomfortable. Ronan glares at Julien and lowers his voice. “Does that matter? Brianne’s family was important to the Group—”
“You said was,” Julien interrupts. “We had a deal. I need a wife from your organization—”
“Brianne is from my organization.” Ronan’s jaw works in anger. “Don’t be a fucking asshole right now.”
“This one is your cousin. This one isn’t. I need a wife that’s connected, Ronan, I told you—”
I take a step back, my cheeks burning with mortification. The men don’t even seem to notice me slipping away. Kim’s still standing there, looking absolutely outraged on my behalf, but I don’t stick around to hear the ending of their fight.
I get the fuck out of there.
What a nightmare. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing. Julien looked at me like I was an utter disappointment, like I was the worst possible outcome. And there I was, thinking he was attractive and starting to wonder if maybe we really might start checking off some of the boxes on that stupid sex list I put together earlier.
But no, God, no, it’s not happening.
There’s no way I can marry that asshole now.
He wants Kim, not me, and I’m not going to debase myself by hitching my life to a man that sees me as second prize.
Kim hurries after me. “Hold on,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Oh my god, Bri, I am so sorry. What a fucking asshole. Can you believe that?”
“It’s fine,” I say, fighting tears. My cheeks are burning with mortification and all I want to do is go home. “It’s not a big deal, okay?”
“No, it’s a huge deal. Fuck that guy. What the hell was that even about? You’re not good enough because you’re not Ronan’s actual blood cousin or some crap? I’m pretty sure all I share with Ronan is that stupid last name. I doubt we have any genes in common.”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I don’t even know the guy, okay? I just want to go home.”
“No,” Kim says, shaking her head. She looks pissed, and when Kim gets pissed, all hell breaks loose.
Which can be good sometimes. She’s like a five-foot-three Pitbull with great tits and an amazing ass. I never worry about dudes being assholes when she’s around because she goes absolutely berserk and tries to murder anyone being remotely rude to the people she cares about. It’s something I admire in her—and also something I really hate. Because the girl doesn’t know how to avoid making a scene.
She turns back toward the men. Julien’s approaching with a hard look on his face like he’s marching off to an execution, while Ronan’s gone already. I can already see how this disaster’s about to play out, and all I want to do is avoid the further embarrassment of Kim trying to rip his big, gorgeous Frenchman’s head off, which she is absolutely about to try.
“Don’t,” I warn her, but I might as well whisper good doggy to a deranged rabies-infested bear.
“You arrogant motherfucker,” she says, marching up to Julien. “You selfish, stupid, self-righteous piece of—”
Julien brushes past her. It’s almost comical the way he bends his body around her like she’s a piece of the scenery. Kim’s jabbing her finger in his direction and cursing at him like a sailor on meth, but it’s like she’s nothing more interesting than a parking meter to him.
“Hey, little dick, did you not hear me? Don’t you dare walk past me, you motherfucking—”