by Lily White
Publication Date: April 18, 2018
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense
The perfect timing of a fairy tale is tied to its tragedy…
Journalist, Meadow Graham, is invited to interview death row inmate, Vincent Mercier. Given three days to hear his sordid confession, Meadow seeks to learn why a wealthy hotel owner killed four people, including her twin sister.
Sensually exotic and enigmatic, Vincent details his deception while bragging about the amusement he took in manipulating Meadow’s sister.
Their interview is a battle of wills.
His story is a twisted web of coercion and lies.
And the tragedy is too perfect to be real.
Will Meadow discover all of Vincent’s secrets while she fights to protect her own?
His eyes opened, the fan of his dark lashes framing observant green orbs. “Why would you suggest that? I was only asking a question.”
“It just seems like…” My voice trailed off.
Canting his head to the side, he stared at me. “Seems like what?”
Like you’re judging me…
Like I’m worthless to a man like you…
Like I’m some stupid mouse caught in a maze you built with a deck of cards…
“Like you’re tired,” I lied.
Sitting up, he stretched his long legs out over the floor in front of him. “I assure you, I have much more endurance than a man needs. Endurance that is often complimented. I won’t be tired until late into the evening.”
Why did everything he say sound like a reference to the bedroom? Vincent was a natural flirt, and I didn’t want to see too much into it. “Okay,” was my simple response.
At some point in the conversation, I’d forgotten I wore nothing beneath my dress. Vincent’s eyes found the evidence of that slip of mind, appreciation rolling behind the green glimmer before he crooned, “You wear the dress well.”
I may as well have been naked for as uncovered as I felt. Glancing down, I realized it was slightly cold in the room, two peaks poking at the material of my dress. Quickly, I attempted to shield my breasts with my arms. If I weren’t so desperate for food, shelter and cash, I would call off this agreement I’d made with him. Even now, it felt like I’d sold my soul to the devil.
Thankfully, my stomach grumbled, two days without food causing the complaint to be clearly heard across the room.
“We should go,” Vincent said, the heat behind his gaze dying off as he stood from the couch and stepped toward me. Instinctively, I backed away, but he grinned and reached out a hand. “I was only going to offer to carry your bag for you. Chivalry isn’t entirely dead.”
“I can manage,” I answered, hating the squeak in my voice as my fingers tightened over the plastic handle. Shaking myself of the nervousness I felt in Vincent’s presence, I rolled my shoulders back (as much as I could while still guarding my breasts) and remembered that I wasn’t the type to be intimidated. Maybe he had enough energy to last the night, but I was exhausted. That had to be why I felt so small. After a good night of deep sleep, I’d be back in prime form, ready and willing to cut this man off at the knees if it was necessary.
Without arguing, Vincent moved to the door, opened it and paused in the hall to hold it for me. I approached and was about to walk through when he let it slip from his fingers to close in my face. My nose almost collided against its surface.
Slamming my palm down on the handle, I wrenched the door from its frame and glared at the gorgeous man on the other side.
“You’ll have to forgive me. I’d forgotten that you didn’t want a man’s assistance.” His expression was a blank page upon which I could scrawl any emotion or meaning. I could have allowed his taunt to anger me, could have stalked off to the elevator, left the building and returned to the rainy streets, but I wanted the food I knew he would give me. I was desperate for a soft bed and warm sheets. If the job he offered wasn’t something I could stomach, I’d at least take his kindness for tonight and leave in the morning.
“It’s fine,” I answered, turning right to head toward the elevator and leave him standing behind me.
Reaching the doors, I noticed the lack of footsteps at my back and glanced over my shoulder to see Vincent’s eyes planted firmly on my butt. With a snappish tone, I asked, “See something you like?”
His responsive grin was deviant. “Oui. J’ai envie de te croquer, ma belle.”
Annoyed by his use of French, I resisted asking him what he’d said. I was sure it didn’t matter…or that I didn’t want to know.
If I did accept his job offer, I was positive that working for a man like Vincent would be a lesson in patience.
ABOUT LILY WHITE
Lily White is a dark writer who likes to dabble on the taboo side of eroticism. She is most known for her Masters Series (Her Master’s Courtesan and Her Master’s Teacher), Target This and many more. When she isn’t writing as Lily White you can find other books by her under M.S. Willis where she has penned the Estate Series and Because of Ellison (contemporary romance). Lily enjoys stretching her writing muscles by continuing to challenge herself with each book she publishes.
In addition to writing, Lily is an avid reader, gummy bear slayer, and a gold medalist in puppy naps.
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