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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No wonder her pictures showed a wounded vulnerability.

Good God.

What a nightmare.

Poor Virginia and William.

“Dorothy toyed,” he continued. “She was known for it. She was open sexually, very much. Things started expanding for a lot of people around that time in those ways, but not that much. However, she was fortunate. She had the studios to squelch any shady rumors, like the fact she was bisexual.”

Another surprising nugget.

“Whoa.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “As for the rest, it only enhanced her reputation as a screen siren and femme fatale. It amused her to sleep with David and William at the same time. David was reportedly wild with jealousy, for she’d tell him William was her favorite. William, it’s thought, did it simply to hurt David as he’d hurt Virginia for years.”

“So you think David killed her?”

“I think it was talked about openly, even written about, how callous, and even cruel Dorothy was to Virginia while she was in this house. She paraded her affair with both men under Virginia’s nose, and Virginia, a product of a gentler time, living a genteel life and being of her particular gender, could do nothing but keep her upper lip stiff.”

“So you think Virginia killed her.”

“I think it’s amusing how angry women are at the patriarchy, when so often they work so hard to tear each other down. Virginia and Dorothy were not natural enemies. They were both caught in their roles with limited power to break free. And yet Dorothy targeted Virginia as much as she did William and David, but at least the men got something out of it. I truly don’t know if, today, women bend their entire lives around food and exercise so they can impress men in their yoga pants, or if they do it to make their sisters feel inferior.”

He took another drag from his smoke and then kept talking.

“But I sense, for the most part, it’s about the very sad fact that society has drilled into their heads the only power they have is sweating and starving themselves in order to have a firm ass, and that being to make men think they’re attractive. In many senses, no offense, it’s through little fault of your own, but you lot haven’t come very far since Dorothy’s and Virginia’s time.”

“You won’t hear any argument from me on that.”

A quick glance at my bra, my outfit, then a lip quirk, before he bent slightly toward me and went on, “And that’s all you get for story time tonight, little girl.”

I pretended to pout.

Though him calling me “little girl” didn’t feel like velvet.

I had another reaction to that, and it was centered between my legs.

He grinned broadly, maybe because of my fake pout, more likely because he knew the reaction he caused. He took another drag from his fancy-ass cigarette and walked away to blow the smoke well away from my person.

“I hope this story doesn’t end with you telling me you think Dorothy’s shenanigans meant she got what she deserved,” I said.

He shook his head. “Virginia was powerless. Dorothy was one of the first women in modern times who had scratched her way to holding a modicum of power, and I don’t blame her how she chose to use it, or either of them for how they were forced to live their lives.”

“Good answer.”

“Hungry?” he asked.

“I think dinner is imminent.”

“As much as I want to see my father react to your shirt and that fetching bra, I ran into Stevenson on the way here and asked him to request Bonnie set up a chef’s table in the kitchen. Mum and Dad can stare at each other across a twenty-five-foot expanse. You and Louella and I are going where it’s warm, it smells good, and people actually like each other.”

“That sounds amazing.”

He took another drag, crushed out his cigarette, and held his hand my way.

For some reason, I sensed taking it was a bigger declaration than just Ian leading me to the kitchen (and collecting Lou along the way) for dinner.

So I hesitated.

When I did, he turned it palm up.

He wanted me to take it.

He wanted me to make that declaration, not just follow him out of the Conservatory, or the other way around.

He wanted us connected.

And the way he was now holding his hand to me made him seem vulnerable.

Exposed.

Like he was taking a huge risk.

No, like he was teetering on the edge and holding that hand to me so I’d save him from falling.

I took his hand.

And we found Louella on the way to the kitchen.

Eight

THE CARNATION ROOM

I lay in bed, waiting for the book I’d just bought about the Dorothy Clifton possible murder/possible accident/possible suicide to download on my Kindle.

Ian had shared the Duncroft House Wi-Fi password over dinner.

Ian had done a lot of things over dinner.

For one, he’d charmed the pants (figuratively) off Louella, and in all honesty, me.


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