Gemma James – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Gemma James – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:29:02 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Gemma James – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Capricorn (The Zodiac Queen #10) Read Online Gemma James http://www.ilovenovels.com/capricorn-the-zodiac-queen-10-read-online-gemma-james Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:29:02 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/capricorn-the-zodiac-queen-10-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Novella Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)

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Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage.

Oliver Whitney.
A man of control.
A master of persuasion.
A shadow in my doorway every night.

He saved me from the dungeon.
Then named his price.
He wants to take me on another trip to the states—only this time, I don’t have a choice.
Because Oliver plans to offer me to a secret society, and my virginity is the main attraction that buys him entry.

I’ve been gutted by grief.
Twisted by self-denial.
Unraveled by men who all want a piece of me.

But I’m not the same.
Not after the cliff.
Not after the dungeon.
Not after Oliver.

I mourned the love of my life with my whole soul.
And just when I surrender to my fate…
He steps out of the shadows.

Part 10 of The Zodiac Queen. Intended for mature readers who enjoy dark and explicit themes. Reader discretion is advised.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

December 17th

Winter air nips at my bare arms, sending a shiver racing down my limbs. In the distance, waves collide with jagged cliffs, and I focus on the rhythm until it storms through me. The darkness steals my vision of the sea, but that sound is a potent elixir, an inducer of the mental fog I crave.

God, it’s all I want right now.

Being near the ocean does that to me. Soothes the turmoil. Calms my breathing. Distorts all the things I can’t bring myself to face. It’s a small mercy, this gift of oblivion.

Beautiful oblivion.

Despite the frigid air, I’m content to stand on the edge of nothing, because I feel nothing here. It would be so easy to let go and fly, to claim the type of nothingness that’s permanent.

Eternal.

Does peace exist in such a place? I can’t help but think it does.

“Novalee!”

A sharp voice tears through my solitude, and I pivot to find Liam standing behind me on the balcony. In the moonless dark, his coppery hair masquerades as black—a striking contrast to the snowflakes drifting between us. One by one, they land in silent defeat on the floor.

I don’t remember how I got here, but I resent him for interrupting the only bit of peace I’ve had since…

My stomach revolts at where that thought tries to stray.

“How long have you been out here?” Liam’s gaze lifts over my shoulder, chasing a view the night won’t give him.

The sun must have set hours ago, though that doesn’t seem right. Wasn’t I just swirling a spoon through thick, tasteless oatmeal at the breakfast table? It should bother me that I can’t recall the time between then and now, but it doesn’t.

“Novalee.” His insistent tone is on the gruff side as he takes my hand. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” Blinking, I fixate on his thumb as it glides back and forth across the back of my hand. That gesture is hypnotic, trance-like…

Going back and forth and back and forth and back⁠—

“Let’s get you inside.”

I jump at his voice, which only makes his forehead wrinkle in concern. Gently, he guides me through the door and into my private quarters in the House of Aries. The next thing I know, I’m settled in a chair, cocooned in a warm blanket, while Liam rubs life back into my arms through the soft material.

“How long were you out there?” His brows knit together. “You’re frozen to the bone.”

His jacket and tie are absent, and my gaze stalls on his collarbone. He’s dressed casually for the evening, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone. Something about his skin beckons. Without conscious thought, I work my arms out of the blanket and trail my fingers over his throat.

He’s smooth and warm and⁠—

“Novalee.” His thick murmur halts my hand. “You’re worrying me.”

“Why?”

“Because I found you freezing in the snow,” he says, brows arching in disbelief, “without a jacket or a pair of shoes. What were you doing out there?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

I’m sure if I think long and hard, I can come up with an explanation, but I don’t have the energy. Besides, the sad truth is…

“I don’t remember.”

Liam’s mouth tightens into a thin line, yet his touch remains gentle as he cups my cheek. “Tell me what to do, please.”

“There’s nothing,” I whisper, the emptiness inside me growing deeper.

A soft knock interrupts the grave moment, and my bedroom door opens to reveal Vance. The sudden appearance of the doctor sends a jolt of adrenaline through me, and I sit up straight as hope crashes into my chest, tangling with a complex blend of anger and fear.

Because I don’t trust hope—not when it’s done nothing but yank me around in unabashed violence since the day I was born.

And yet…

I can’t help but ask the only question worth asking. “Did they find him?”

Vance gives his blond head a solemn shake. He normally wears his hair in a ponytail, but now it falls past his shoulders, wild and messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it all day.

“No sign of survivors,” he says quietly. “Axel’s body was recovered a few days ago, but…”

Dread bands around my chest. “But they’re still looking, right?”

Liam rises to join Vance, and my gaze darts between them, desperation cresting. No one speaks at first, and that’s when I ache for the numbness of winter air, the crash of waves, the endless dark.

The fog.

God, bring the fog back, because I can’t face the answer written in Vance’s expression—as if he’s trying to swallow the words so he won’t have to say them out loud.

“It’s been a week, Novalee.”

A week.

Seven days.

168 hours.

10,000 and some odd minutes since Sebastian’s plane went down, and my world imploded.

It feels longer.

It feels like it happened five minutes ago.

That day is a blur, just distorted images I don’t want to remember, and yet I still recall Liam and the Brotherhood ambushing me in my studio with the news. Can still smell Liam’s spicy cologne as he engulfed me in his arms. Still hear the wailing and screaming.

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Sagittarius (The Zodiac Queen #9) Read Online Gemma James http://www.ilovenovels.com/sagittarius-the-zodiac-queen-9-read-online-gemma-james Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:38:51 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sagittarius-the-zodiac-queen-9-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage.

Tatum Harding.
Resident pilot.
A man of surprises.
Self-proclaimed voyeur.

At the monthly dinner with the Brotherhood, he reveals his gift—a trip to Los Angeles, where I’m scheduled to debut as a designer at the Fashion Festival. To sweeten the deal, he allows me a plus-one.
Sebastian is my only choice, but there’s just one condition.
Tatum wants to watch.
The idea should disturb me, and when he makes it clear he wants to join, I definitely shouldn’t agree.
Because grave decisions come with consequences, and this one is a doozy, spawning so much guilt that I compound the mistake with an even bigger one.
A single moment of distrust turns my world upside down, ending in trauma and tragedy
I’ve survived a lifetime’s worth of suffering at the hands of these men, but this…
This will be the catalyst that destroys me.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

NOVEMBER 22ND

Disbelief shrouds the room in precipitous tension. As the men crowd Sebastian’s beach cottage, the chancellor’s explanation for their unexpected visit sends shock rippling through my system.

Did he say they’re going to rig the auction?

I hold Liam’s gaze, paying no heed to my unkempt morning-after appearance, and part my lips in search of the right questions to ask.

How do they plan to rig the auction?

Wait. How does Liam know about Landon’s mysterious plan?

And when did they start working together?

But instead of demanding answers, I end up gaping at the group of men, their presence rendering me as silent as the dawning of a new autumn day.

“I think you should sit down, my sweet girl.” Liam’s cajoling tone is deceptive, because underneath it, I detect the authority behind his words—words that knock me from my stupor.

“Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” The more I think about his overbearing tendencies, the more my hackles rise. “You can’t just waltz in here, unannounced, and drop a bomb like that on me…and then tell me to sit down.”

Ford’s sigh interrupts my brewing standoff with the chancellor. “We’re gonna need caffeine for this conversation.” He heads toward the kitchen. “Where’s the coffee in this place?”

“By the sink, second cupboard on the left.” Sebastian settles his hand on the small of my back, and his warmth seeps through my wrinkled dress, reminding me of how he peeled it off my body last night before giving me what I wanted most in the world.

To belong to him and only him…except this wasn’t how I envisioned we’d spend our last morning together.

“We need a minute,” I say as I grab Sebastian’s hand and drag him into the bedroom. The door shuts, enclosing us in privacy—much needed privacy because my heart is pounding too hard and fast, and my hands are clammy. I’m close to the precipice of a meltdown, pushed to the ledge by too many men for too many months.

Anger flares, boils in my blood, and I want to rail at them for intruding on the precious time I have left with Sebastian. Why did they choose today of all days to upend my world yet again?

“Did you know they were coming?” Folding my arms, I give Sebastian a look brimming with accusation.

“I knew about the meeting, but I didn’t know it would happen today.” He shoots a glare toward the living room. “Always in the goddamn way.”

“I want to hear it from you,” I say. “Whatever they’re about to tell me, I want to hear it from you first.”

“I don’t know much more than you do. Landon kept the details close to his chest.”

“So you’re saying he doesn’t trust you enough to confide in you? I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s not about trust. He’s always been a stubborn ass, and there’s no way he’s spilling the details until he’s ready.”

“And today just happens to be the day he’s ready?”

“Apparently so.” Sebastian combs an agitated hand through his bedroom hair, and I remember all-too-well how those dirty blond locks got so disheveled. My heart constricts at the memory of the unbelievable night we shared.

Our time together is ending too soon.

“At least tell me what little you do know.” I plant my hands on my hips. “Before I go out there and hear how all of you conspired to control my life, I need to hear it from you. Not them.”

“Forget about them,” he growls, setting his hands on my shoulders and pushing me toward the bed. “In this room, there’s just you and me, princess.”

“What are you doing?”

“Not letting anyone or anything ruin my last morning with you.”

“This isn’t the time for—”

“You can either fight me,” he cuts in, shoving me onto the mattress with a smirk, “or you can enjoy me.”

“How about option three?” As he removes my dress for the second time in twelve hours, I nod toward the living room. “At least tell me you’re still going to win the auction.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

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Scorpio (The Zodiac Queen #8) Read Online Gemma James http://www.ilovenovels.com/scorpio-the-zodiac-queen-8-read-online-gemma-james Wed, 23 Feb 2022 19:28:14 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/scorpio-the-zodiac-queen-8-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Erotic, Romance, Virgin Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 1
Estimated words: 25827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Scorpio (The Zodiac Queen #8)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Gemma James
Language:	English
Book Information:
Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. This is the eighth installment in Novalee's journey with the Zodiac Brotherhood. Full blurb to come! Release date is subject to change.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James

1

OCTOBER 23RD

The decision should be simple, like deciding between oatmeal and eggs for breakfast. No more complicated than choosing a color palette for a new dress design. As easy as selecting a pair of shoes for a special event. But this isn’t just any event, and the wrong choice could bring on a whole new level of emotional destruction.

As if there’s anything left to destroy after these past few weeks. The memories torment me, especially the moments I spent with the chancellor in the dungeon, trapped in the snare of Pax Monroe’s vengeance. I’ll never forget the ownership in Liam’s grip as he thrust his way to climax, or his shame afterward, thickening in the air with the scent of deviance.

And then there’s the memory of Sebastian and his wounded ocean eyes. Will he ever forgive me for what he interrupted on that island? There’s only one way to find out, and that involves cornering him at the ball.

Which brings me back to this decision.

With a sigh, I trace the complex stitching of the silver mask before hovering over soft, black lace. The unknown makes my fingers tremble. Too many what-ifs. Too many variables. Too many men to think about.

Men like Heath Bordeaux, Miles Sinclair, and the beast of all beasts…

The monster in the dungeon.

Will they wear silver or black? Or maybe the Brotherhood villains will cover their bases by choosing both.

One in silver, two in black. Or vice versa.

Rubbing the goose flesh from my arms, I sink onto the ottoman at the end of the bed. A light breeze drifts through the French doors, chillier now since the change of seasons painted the trees with splashes of blazing color. It’s too cold to leave the doors open for more than a few minutes, but I crave the sun, the break of waves against the cliffside, the gentle wind that carries a hint of freedom with it.

As the sun dips below the horizon, I close my eyes and breathe in the essence of the sea, a scent that’s reminiscent yet so unlike the tropical setting the Brotherhood dragged me away from just days ago. Somehow, even after everything I’ve been through, I find comfort in this moment—in these formulaic living quarters and the tradition of a new month.

My personal space in the House of Scorpio offers no surprises, easing my anxiety with the same balcony and seating area, the same luxurious quality of furnishings and linens, and the same layout I’ve become accustomed to in this tower. It’s the only constant in my life, and I cling to it in the face of this choice.

Because this decision is about more than just the villains.

Is it too much to hope that Sebastian and Liam will wear the same color, even if it’s the opposite of mine? That’s the only scenario that will put the three of us on even ground at Ford’s ball.

“Having trouble deciding?”

I lift my head and find Ford lingering in the doorway. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see that you’re torn.” His hair is careless and overgrown like Sebastian’s, though it’s a lighter shade of blond. He’s a golden boy extraordinaire, decked out in a light gray tux with his hair slicked back.

A glance at the ornate clock on my nightstand shoots a ping of apprehension through my chest. The ball starts in a little over an hour, and I haven’t begun to get ready for it.

I’m still stuck on this choice.

“How can I decide?” I gnaw on my lower lip as he steps into the room.

“I can choose for you.”

For a tempting second, I consider it. Handing over the decision would certainly take the pressure off. But I’m already shaking my head as he settles next to me, leaving the box of masks between us on the ottoman.

“Thank you, but I need to make this decision on my own.”

Somehow, I need to make Sebastian see that he’s still got the biggest piece of my confused, fragile heart.

“How was your nap?” Ford asks, and his change of subject doesn’t go unnoticed.

I offer him a tremulous smile. “Restless.”

“Pax is a madman. I’d be shit shocked if you didn’t have trouble sleeping.”

“You don’t agree with the way Pax runs his house?”

“Few of us do.”

“Do you agree with the rest of it?”

“The rest of what?” Confusion laces his tone, but the knowing squint of those striking hazel eyes makes me question if he’s feigning ignorance.

“The Brotherhood, the auction, the queen’s duty…all of it.”

“Yes, to the first—with some notable changes—and no to the second. As for the queen’s duty, I have no problem sharing you, though I’d prefer your willing participation.”

“So basically, you’re saying ‘no’ to all three.”

He raises a brow. “Am I?”

“Your answer to the second question was clear as day. The other two are open for interpretation.” I study him, taking note of his square jaw and the boyish slant of his full lips. He wears that tailored tux as if it’s an extension of him, imparting the kind of confidence that borders on cocky. “Do you not want to bid at the auction?”

“You’re very direct.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I shouldn’t be. While Liam watched you drool over Sebastian, I watched you from the advantage of obscurity.” With a tilt of his head, he tucks a flaxen braid behind my ear.

I suck in a breath. “What did you see?”

“A spirited girl who refused to break.”

“They tried. All of them.”

“I know.” Withdrawing his hand, he inches away. “But they failed every time, didn’t they?”

“Is that why you don’t want to marry me? I’m too resilient for your taste?”

“If I wanted to get married, you’d be at the top of my list.”

So Ford Stryker isn’t the marrying kind. He looks no younger than my eighteen years, but I somehow feel light years ahead of him, because he’s still coming into his own—on his own terms—and I came of age by force and fire.

My attention returns to the masks, causing my heart to stutter. This month, this night, and this boyish man is a turning point. I don’t know how or why the certainty grips me now, but it does.

“If I asked you to decide for me, which color would you choose?”

“Silver,” he says without hesitation.

“That was quick.”

“It’s just one night. I’m not asking you to decide the fate of your future.”

Then why does it feel like everything hinges on this supposedly simple decision? “No offense,” I say, grabbing the box, “but I’ll go with black.”

He chuckles. “I’m not trying to trick you, I promise.”

“Then why the choice?”

“To keep things fun.”

“Fun for whom?”

His tongue sweeps his lower lip, and in that instant, it pulls at me.

The twinge.

Just as unwanted now as when Liam held me hostage on his island.

“Everyone, my queen. Fun has no bounds.”

I clear my throat. “Then I guess I should get ready.”

“I’ll meet you down there.” He makes it to the doorway before coming to a halt. “Two things before I go.” A glance over his shoulder accompanies his preamble. “I left a gown for you in the closet, and I’d really love to see you in it.”

“Okay,” I say, wondering where he’s going with this. “And the other?”

“This ball isn’t like any you’ve been to before, but I’m hoping you’ll keep an open mind.”

“That sounds…ominous.”

“It’s just a simple request, Novalee.”

“A request?” My dubious tone draws out the question. “What do you want from me, Mr. Stryker?”

“You can start by calling me Ford.” His gaze intensifies, challenging me from across the room. “And tonight, I want you to come for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want you to touch yourself in front of everyone.”

“W-what?” I sputter.

Before I can argue with him, he disappears from sight, footsteps retreating down the hall in a rhythm of finality. That’s when I realize Ford Stryker is a liar. He promised freedom and fun, but his request is little more than a veiled demand to get what he wants.

And when it comes to the men in this tower, they all want something from the queen.

2

Ford’s “gown” is the raciest thing to grace my body in public. The dress hugs me like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. Glittery lace the hue of a moon-lit night puts my breasts on display, exposing my erect nipples under the see-through bust. Double slits run up my legs, ankle to hip, allowing for easy access, but the most scandalizing part is how I’m not wearing any panties.

I could have picked another dress for the occasion, as he’d had the closet stocked with my wardrobe—as if daring me to go against his wishes—but my gut told me it’s the type of game he’d play.

A game he clearly expected me to lose.

And that’s why I did the opposite by shimmying into his obscene, form-fitting gown. Besides, I’m forbidden fruit in this sinful lace, a taunt and tease for the testosterone-infested population in the tower, empowered by the black mask around my head and the severe line of my blood-red lips.

As I stall on the threshold of the ball, I aim to stun, my offensive strategy one of false bravado. I hadn’t planned on making a grand entrance, but I took extra time on my hair, leaving it falling in a sleek sheet around my bare shoulders. As I sweep my gaze across the bustling space in search of a familiar blond head, techno music throbs under the red soles of my heels.

The ballroom has gone under a complete transformation—the left side of the room sectioned off from the dance floor with gauzy black curtains strung with gold lights. The French doors remain closed against the frigid autumn temperature.

Masked guests mingle and dance, the men in various shades of tuxes while women show off couture gowns that glitter under the ambient lighting. The fashion statements range from formal to kinky lingerie, and my own dress falls somewhere in the middle of the spectrum.

Ford appears from the thick of it, the guests parting for him as if he’s a king in their midst—a king heading straight for the queen.

He halts within arm’s reach, his hazel irises glinting behind a silver and black mask. “You wore the gown,” he says, sounding surprised.

“You asked me to.”

“You look…” His perusal lingers on my chest. “Wow. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday gift.”

“Today’s your birthday?”

“Nineteen years and counting.”

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

I glance over his shoulder, searching the crowd once more, and spot Mr. Bordeaux with his jet black hair, face hidden behind a silver mask. I spy Vance and Miles wearing black, but Sebastian is nowhere in sight. Neither is Liam.

“They haven’t arrived yet.” Ford’s lips purse in amusement.

I return my attention to him. “Who?”

He laughs. “You’re cute when you act coy.” Taking a step closer, he sticks out a hand. “I want to show you something.” It’s yet another demand obscured by a tone of gentle persuasion, but I slide my palm into his and allow him to lead me through the throng. The guests part again, keeping to either side like pillars, and it isn’t until we cross through the gauzy drapes that I let out a shocked gasp.

Under the glow of neon lighting, a separate realm exists—a deviant clash of perversion and decadence. Scantily dressed people gyrate to the pulsing music on a makeshift stage, their skin damp with sweat.

In the middle of it all is Pax, bare from the waist up except for his leather mask the same color as mine. He crosses the stage with an undeniable swagger, his abs glistening under the lights as he leads his slave to a giant X on the wall. Nude acrobatic dancers perform in neon cages on either side as he secures Frieda to the planks. Curious guests make themselves comfortable on the surrounding loungers to watch the show.

“So what do you think?” Ford asks, lingering behind me. “Want to go up there and play with me?”

“I should…p-probably eat something,” I say, my vocal cords constricting as I envision the hors d’oeuvres near the ballroom’s entrance. If there’s one thing about this night for which to be thankful, it’s the cancellation of the monthly dinner in favor of Ford’s ball, not to mention a much-needed escape from his expectations.

I push past him and disappear into the crowd, but his chuckle seems to trail after me above the techno beat. I sense a mischievous streak in Ford Stryker, and that makes him as unpredictable as the rest of the men in the Brotherhood.

Sending a quick glance over my shoulder, I make a small plate before blending into the shadows at the edge of the ballroom, grateful for the illusion of solitude. With my attention on the front entrance, I nibble, tasting none of it. I’m wound tight from too much nervous energy, and so focused on the masked guests coming and going that I don’t notice the tall figure appearing from the opposite direction until he’s right in front of me.

A pair of seductive brown eyes stare back from behind a black mask, making my heart skip a series of beats.

For several moments, Liam says nothing, though his expression betrays what’s on his mind.

Fear of rejection.

Self-recrimination.

Lustful appreciation.

“Jesus…” he trails off with a thick swallow. “You wouldn’t have made it out of my bedroom dressed like that.” His gaze drifts down my body, that heated perusal caressing me like a phantom touch.

“The gown was Ford’s idea.”

“I could murder him right now.” A tick goes off in his jaw.

“Aren’t you in enough trouble already?”

“Apparently not.” Tilting his head toward the dance floor, one brow raised in silent question, he holds out a hand.

I glance at the entrance again before depositing my plate with the other abandoned culinary fanfare.

As his warm grip encloses my hand, hesitation stiffens my limbs. Against my better judgement, I allow him to usher me onto the dance floor.

He pulls me close, and the music slows to a hypnotic beat. A full minute passes in soundless tension, despite our bodies moving as one. Burrowing his face against my neck, he holds me tight against him, as if he’s scared I’ll disappear from the cage of his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Novalee.” Further words aren’t needed to convey what he’s apologizing for. What happened in the dungeon plays in my mind like a horror film, and in this moment, I know it haunts him as much as it haunts me.

“You stopped Pax from hurting me.”

“By hurting you myself.”

“You did what I asked—what you had to do.” Pulling back, I meet his eyes. “We both did.”

“There’s no justification for how I got off on it.”

“We didn’t have a choice, Liam.”

He brushes my hair back, thumb grazing my cheek. “I had options from the beginning. You didn’t.” He lets a slow beat pass. “I hope you can forgive me someday.”

“I’ve already forgiven you.” Maybe I shouldn’t, but my heart can only house so much hatred, and every ounce of rage is reserved for the men who hurt me without remorse.

Monsters like Pax Monroe.

Liam swallows hard. “As much as I want your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s all I have left to give you.”

If forgiving him is self-destructive and foolish, then so be it. At least the decision is mine.

He cups my cheek. “What about your heart?”

“You’ll always have a piece.”

Liam blinks, dark lashes lowering in saddened defeat. “Sebastian’s a lucky man.”

“I’m afraid he won’t see it that way.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up, incongruent with the melancholy in his eyes. “Impossible.”

“You didn’t see his face on the island.” Liam was busy getting dressed as Pax paraded me in front of the entire Brotherhood, naked as the day I was born.

“He has your heart, Novalee. He’d be a goddamn fool not to hold on to it with his life.”

The song ends, punctuating his fierce statement, and that’s when I sense the change in the air—as if everyone’s attention shifts to the ballroom entrance at once.

Landon and Elise stand on the threshold, decked out in emerald formal wear and black satin masks. Sebastian and Lilith linger beside them, both in silver masks, and my heart thuds to the bottom of my stomach. It doesn’t matter that my brother and Elise separate them; they arrived together, a glamorous unit that makes sense.

As I take in his onyx tux and Lilith’s matching off-the-shoulder gown that does little to hide her baby bump, I swallow down nausea. They fit together better than he and I ever will, and everyone can sense it—even from across the crowded ballroom.

The distance between us has never felt so wide.

“She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

I stiffen in Liam’s arms. “She’s the mother of his child.”

If the news of Lilith’s pregnancy wasn’t out before, it is now, the evidence in plain sight for the guests to gossip about.

He cradles my face, demanding my attention. “She’s not you.” Pain slashes his features, playing in the shadows of our memories as his lips touch mine. His kiss is soft and brief, and it’s laced with the bittersweet taste of goodbye. “She can never be you.”

“Liam.” Sadness squeezes my vocal cords.

Clearing his throat, he nods toward Sebastian. “He’s the one you want.”

I meet a pair of turbulent blue eyes from across the room, and my chest constricts. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“He knows that. So do I.” Liam lets me go. “It’s okay, my sweet girl. Go to him.”

With a hard swallow, I head toward Sebastian, my limbs as shaky as the courage that threatens to crumble with each step.

3

It’s impossible to gauge Sebastian’s mood. A storm brews in the depths of his ocean eyes, but they remain as guarded as the day I met him six years ago. Fear rises in my chest, threatening to steal my courage, but I can’t back down now. With my attention solely on him, I block out the surrounding commotion, the music, the people.

Especially Lilith.

“Can we talk?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady.

He sends a cursory glance down my body, lust igniting his gaze, but an instant later, it’s gone.

I imagined it. He arrived with Lilith, for heaven’s sake, and if that doesn’t say “stay away,” I’m not sure what does. Earlobes burning, acid roiling in my belly, I steel myself for inevitable rejection.

But instead of wrecking me with a public display of humiliation, he grabs my hand, and we go from loitering on the threshold of the ball to staking our claim on the middle of the dance floor.

“Say what you need to say.” With his clipped demand, he pulls me against his solid chest, trapping me in an eternity of breathless, heart-pounding shock.

Why isn’t he yelling, snarling, or running in the other direction?

“Is this….us dancing…is this allowed?” I gesture at our mismatched masks.

“It’s just a dance, princess. It’s not like I have you naked on a secluded island.”

His derision is so much worse than anger. Shame heats my cheeks, and though my first urge is to avert my eyes to hide the guilt in them, I hold his stare. I couldn’t look away if I tried.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He raises a brow. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Everything.”

“That’s a cop-out answer. Everything could mean anything.”

“It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” He clenches his teeth, but despite his hard-headed stubbornness, he pulls me closer, his possessive hold betraying the desire kept just below the surface.

I grip his shoulders, afraid he’ll back out of this moment and leave me bereft. “I’ve missed you so much,” I say, my tone a plea for absolution.

“That’s hard to believe, considering you had your lips on Castle not even five minutes ago.”

He’s jealous…and that gives me hope. Jealousy means feeling. It means he still cares.

“The kiss was goodbye.”

“I can’t be your second choice, Novalee.”

“Is that what I was to you when you screwed Lilith goodbye?”

His jaw clenches. “That was different. You and I weren’t in a committed relationship yet. After that night, I chose you over her, and I haven’t gone back on that decision once.”

“You’re here with her tonight.”

“Jesus, Novalee. She’s Landon’s sister. She’s here with them.” His furious gaze settles over my shoulder. “Despite everything we’ve been through, I’ve given you no reason to doubt me.”

“You’re right.” Averting my gaze, I swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Sharing your body with the Brotherhood is hard enough—on both of us. I can’t share your heart too.”

With a shaky inhale, I slide my hand along his rough cheek. “You could never be my second choice.”

The tempo shifts, and he whirls me around before embracing me from behind. “What about on that island?” His front is flush with my body, his hands on my hips, the pads of his fingers hot on my lace-covered skin. “Was I front and center in your mind?”

“Always.”

“So he forced you to take your clothes off?” Sarcasm drips from his veiled accusation.

“The situation was…complicated.” It’s not what he wants to hear, or even how I want to explain, but uttering that simple fact is all I’m capable of right now.

Because his proximity has crossed the wires in my brain, bringing about an endless string of misfires that leave me incoherent.

“There’s nothing complicated about the way you make me feel.” He arches into a titillating gyrate against my ass, hips in perfect unison with mine, and I shiver as his mouth grazes my ear. “You’re an indecent little tease in this scrap of lace. I’m tempted to take my hand to your ass, to hell with the consequences.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would, and you’d deserve every second.”

As my heart palpitates in time to the beat, the dancers around us blur into slow-moving shadows.

His possessive hold tightens on my hips, bordering on painful. “I’d have you begging for my cock in your tight little ass. God, princess,” he groans. “What I’d give to fuck it right now in front of all of these uptight assholes. What I’d give to make you cry.”

“You have every right to be upset with me.” Unrealized tears burn my eyes, but deep down, I know he wouldn’t hurt me like that.

Like Pax forced Liam to.

“Novalee,” he rasps, “I’m not upset. I’m fucking wrecked.”

“You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt.”

“Did Castle take your ass?” he asks, tone dripping in scorn as he barrels right past my attempted apology. “I bet he did, and I bet you loved every second of it.”

Pushing out of his arms, I turn to face him, my pulse jackknifing, eyes stinging. “Every second of it hurt.” Blinking in rapid succession, I try to staunch the memory of my time in the dungeon with Liam and Pax, but the pain of what we did hangs on my lashes, no matter how hard I try to tamp it down.

Sebastian goes stock-still, assessing all I left unsaid through the fracture in my expression. “He hurt you?”

“N-no.” The denial shakes off my lips, disguising the horrific truth in it. “That’s…that isn’t what I meant.”

“I don’t believe you.” The storm is back, transforming his features, and his attention lands on Liam, who’s standing with Landon, Vance, and Tatum near the buffet. The four of them must be deep in conversation, because the chancellor doesn’t glance my way at all, when he usually can’t take his eyes off of me.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Sebastian growls, on the move before I can stop him.

“Sebastian, wait!”

But he’s already barreling through the crowd toward the target of his rage, and by the time I catch up, he’s sent Liam crashing into the buffet table.

“You sick bastard.” Sebastian yanks him up by the lapels before slamming him into a wall. “You forced her, didn’t you?” Eyes alight with murder, he grips Liam by the throat.

“Sebastian,” I shriek, tugging on his arm. “Stop!”

My shouted plea falls on deaf ears. Sebastian refuses to budge, and it takes Vance and Landon’s help before he backs down.

Liam gulps in air, wheezing through every breath. “You’re out of your mind,” he chokes, one hand massaging his neck.

“I’ve never been more clear-headed.” Sebastian sneers at the chancellor. “You might have fooled her and everyone else, but you don’t fool me. You made sure she was defenseless on that island.”

I brush my fingers over Sebastian’s arm to get his attention. “Please…let me explain.”

Training his pain-filled eyes on me, he shakes off Landon’s hold. “I know all of your expressions, princess, and I know he fucking hurt you. What I don’t understand is why you’re protecting him.”

The music cuts out, leaving dead silence in its wake as masquerade guests crowd around us. Mortification spreads over my skin, from my chest to my cheeks.

Landon clears his throat. “You two should finish this conversation in the hall.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Sebastian drags me out of the ballroom, and my heels click across the marble floor behind him in a desperate, linear tap dance as I try to keep up with his furious strides. To slow him down, I clutch the back of his jacket.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You heard Landon. We need privacy for this conversation.” Whirling around, he stops in the deserted hallway, his icy blue gaze pinning me from behind a silver mask. “Tell me what happened with Castle.” The cross of his muscular arms contradicts his even tone.

Now that I have his undivided attention, I falter.

“Your silence has never been so honest, Novalee.”

I need to tell him everything that happened—on the island and in the dungeon—but the thought of spilling the details shoots bile into my throat. I’m trying to verbalize the trauma of the past few weeks when two masquerade guests pass us by.

Our gazes lower to the floor, and we shuffle away from each other until the couple disappears around the corner.

“Spill it,” he demands.

“I-I don’t know where to start.”

Sebastian shakes his head, his dress shoes threatening to go into retreat-mode, and I fear he’s going to bolt until he pulls me into a conference room. The door closes, warding us off from prying eyes, and the space is dark, intimate…private. As the shadow of his anger looms, he backs me into the door, caging me in, his chest heaving against the tips of my needy breasts.

Other than that slight contact, he doesn’t touch me. His quick and shallow breaths do, the heat of his body, the woodsy scent coming off his skin. God, he smells like the only place on earth where I belong.

“I want the truth, princess.” He dips his head, blue gaze shrouded in the darkened room, but I feel that heated stare teasing my lace-covered nipples. “No matter how much it hurts to hear it.”

“On the island…Liam…it took him weeks, but he wore me down, and…I am so sorry you saw what you did that morning.”

Sebastian jerks away as if my confession gave him a physical blow. “I know you care about him.”

Three rapid blinks send the tears down my cheeks. “I was weak, and I despise myself for it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Taking in a shaky breath, he pulls a hand through his hair. “So he didn’t force you?” His strangled tone jump-starts my heart, and I hold on to his tense shoulders, hanging on for dear life.

“No. He stopped after I couldn’t give him what he wanted. Even though we were alone on that island, my feelings for you stood between us, Sebastian. They always have.”

He backs me into the door again, a dangerous exhale hitting my lips as our chests mash together. “But you let him touch you.” It’s not a question but a confirmation—as if he needs to hear it again before he’ll believe I betrayed him.

“Yes.”

“You wanted him to touch you.”

I nod, unable to voice the affirmation, and an immeasurable beat passes before he prods me further.

“If he didn’t force you, then why did you look so destroyed when I brought up anal?”

I flinch, and the truth almost seals my airway.

He caresses my cheek. “I don’t need to see your expression to know you’ve got that same destroyed look on your face right now.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“You can talk to me.”

“It was Pax.” The monster’s name catches in my throat. “He forced us into it after the summons.”

Sebastian goes stock still, and that’s my breaking point. A sob breaks free, unchecked emotion dripping down my cheeks.

“And it was…awful. So bad that I wished Liam had taken what he wanted on the island.” Just as my knees weaken, Sebastian grabs me around the waist, keeping me steady on my feet. It’s not forgiveness, but that single gesture from him is all I need right now.

Because his touch, the warmth of his body, the weight of his silent support—it’s a culmination of reassurance that grounds me. Once the words pour out, I can’t stop them, and in between gut-wrenching sobs, I tell him about Pax’s evil cock device and what he threatened to do with it.

“Liam didn’t want to go through with it—not like that—but the alternative was...” I shudder. “There was no alternative. Pax would have scarred me for life.”

In more ways than one.

“Baby—” Sebastian chokes out the endearment in a strangled whisper as his chest trembles against mine. “I’m such an ass.”

“You’re not.”

“I thought I lost you.”

“Never.”

“He had you on that island all to himself…leaving you there would have been the best thing for you.”

“I wanted to come back to you.”

And I did. It was hell at first, but it was worth it because I never want to let him go, especially now that I’m back in his arms. Without thinking, I press up on my toes and seek his mouth. Pure instinct drives me, uncontrollable need, and despite history’s lesson on foolish actions and the consequences that go with them, there isn’t an atom in my body capable of keeping my lips from his.

Only Sebastian has that power, and he wields it by gripping the back of my neck, denying me access to his mouth. I let out a gasp of hurt, his rejection serving as a bitter reminder that forgiveness isn’t so easily given.

He presses a thumb against my mouth. “We aren’t doing this again.”

“Because you can’t forgive me?”

Letting go of my neck, he tangles a hand in my hair and brushes a soft kiss on my forehead. “Because I just got my exile reversed, and I can’t lose you again.”

“I’m sick of the rules and superstitions. I just want to be with you.”

“We’ve got five more months and a lot of shit to work through first.”

“Do you…?” I falter, wishing I could see his expression. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation, even as he lets me go. “But we have to get there first, which means you need to go back to the ball before someone finds us in here.” He pulls the door open a crack, allowing a sliver of light to shine in from the hallway.

“Are you coming back to the dance?”

“I’ll be there in a few.”

In the light, I catch him adjusting himself, and my blood simmers in my veins. No matter the betrayals and heartbreaks, we’ll always hunger for each other like an out-of-control fire consuming everything in its path.

And all we can do is feed it.

I slip into the hall, hot between the thighs, and wonder how I’ll find the nerve to submit to Ford’s request with Sebastian watching every moment, a spectator in the crowd.

4

I arm myself with liquid courage, swiping glass after glass from the waitstaff passing around fruit-infused bubbly. Champagne is supposed to be tart, not this sweet stuff that tastes like soda water. I doubt it’s meant to go down in a gulp or two, but I’m on my fifth glass when Sebastian enters the ballroom.

He looks no less put-together than he did thirty minutes ago—black tux impeccable, hair combed back, cuff links fastened, silver mask in place—only now there’s a glow to his skin; a negligible sheen few would notice. I only recognize it because I’ve witnessed him in the aftermath of climax before.

Swallowing a groan at the thought of him pleasuring himself, along with the rest of my champagne, I head straight for him, my steps uneven as the room spins. Along the way, I grab another glass from a passing tray, and that’s when Landon inserts himself in my path.

“You’ve had enough,” he says, commandeering my drink.

“Keep it.” I jut my chin toward the crystal flute he stole. “There’s no shortage of champagne around here.”

A frown tugs at his lips. “What are you doing, Novalee?”

“Enjoying the ball.” Annoyance with his big-brother tactics builds, and I flutter my lashes at him. “Shouldn’t you be doing the same with your wife?”

“I was until she pointed out you’re drinking your weight in champagne. Who do you think sent me over here?” He gestures toward Elise, and I spot my former lady sitting at a small table on the edge of the room. The low lighting shadows her features, but I imagine the worry pulling at her brows.

It’s been too long since I’ve talked to her. Upon the realization, another bout of shame floods me. I’ve turned into the type of person I despise. Self-absorbed, unable to look beyond my own issues, consumed to the point that I forgot the one person in this tower who’s been there for me since the beginning.

The floor seems to tilt again, and Landon steadies me with a hand on my shoulder. “Go sit with Elise for a while.”

“I’m not a dog.”

Landon narrows his eyes. “Of course you’re not a dog. You’re someone I care about, which is why I’m worried about you.” He leans forward, tightening his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, and you’re drunk and vulnerable right now.”

“I’m only half drunk.”

“Novalee,” he says, voice lowering in warning. “You need a few minutes to pull yourself together.” His attention rests on Sebastian for a moment. “Before you do something you’ll regret.”

“Ford is waiting for me.” My haughty tone makes it clear how little I appreciate his high-handedness.

“You’re in no condition to play Ford’s games right now.”

“I’m fine.” I shrug off his hand and switch direction, taking comfort in the thickening crowd. Ford might not be expecting me right this second, but he is expecting something from me, and I might as well face it while I’m tipsy on my feet.

Passing through the gauzy curtains is like entering an alternate reality, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. If the scene surprised me before, it doesn’t compare to what’s in front of me now.

Naked bodies writhe, rock, and shudder. Implements smack sweat-soaked skin—the impacts brutal enough to echo in my ears. Sighs and pants filter through the space as brave performers reach erotic crescendos. For every participant, three people linger on the edge to watch, and Ford is in the middle of it all, sprawled on a lounger as a group of naked women crawl over him.

Ford Stryker is every inch a king on his throne, enshrined in careless confidence, his pants undone, jacket gone, and shirt unbuttoned to expose a well-defined chest. He spots me standing by the curtain and crooks a finger, beckoning me to join him.

Teeth sinking into my bottom lip, I stall for time, hoping to find the courage to get up there and expose myself to the hungry eyes in the room. Anxiety sends me back a few steps, right into another body. An electric zap hits my spine—a sensation that can only come from one hot-blooded inferno of a man.

“Go on, princess.” His quiet goading teases the wayward tendrils around my ear. “Show everyone how sweet your pussy is.”

My breath catches. “You know what he asked me to do?”

“All of us do.”

Of course they know what Ford’s planning. I was naïve to think his request was something he kept between him and me. Instead, it’s just another power-play move in the Brotherhood’s arsenal.

“Watching me up there…it’ll only upset you.” Despite the haze from the champagne, the reality of what I’m about to do chokes me, and the last thing I want is to make things worse between us.

“You don’t think I’ll get off watching you play with yourself?”

“I think you have a jealous personality.”

“I’m not jealous of Ford.” He leans closer, his breaths caressing my shoulder. “He doesn’t make you weak.”

My heart skips. “No, he doesn’t.”

His hand clamps onto my hip, fingers caressing my skin from under the edge of the lacy slit. “Not like I do.”

“No…” I breathe. “Not like you do.”

“Not even like Liam does.”

“Sebastian.” His name is little more than a whispered plea. “This is hard enough already.”

“You wanna talk about hard things?” He thrusts against my ass, showing me just how hard he is. “See what you do to me? It’s like I’m a goddamn teenager all over again.”

“You pleasured yourself after I left, didn’t you?” My words summon a vivid picture of him in my mind, one muscular arm braced against the wall as he strokes his erect cock in a desperate fist. At the visual, a whimper escapes me.

Sebastian lets out a dark laugh. “Not much pleasure involved without you, princess. More like a devastating explosion. So go up there and be weak for me. Let every man here know who you belong to.”

His gravelly voice is voodoo in my ears, causing my feet to carry me toward the depraved host of this ball. The guests seem to part for me, just like they did for Ford earlier. Armed with intoxication and faux bravery, I climb the makeshift stage, and his harem of women scatter. So does everyone else on-stage.

Apparently, I’m the main show of the night.

Ford reaches for me, hands hot and firm on my skin. “Make yourself comfortable,” he says, yanking me onto his lap. “You’re going to be here a while.”

“I-I am?”

“You think I’m gonna let you get away now?” He wraps his hands around my waist, crushing me against his body, and his scent surrounds me—a mix of pheromones, spice, and masculine male. He tilts his hips, nestling his enormous length between my ass cheeks. “I knew you’d feel good in my lap.”

For several moments, I’m speechless, my mind spinning from too much champagne and stimulation. From too many curious eyes, despite the gauzy partition between the stage and the rest of the ball.

To break the tension, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m surprised you put up a curtain.”

“Not everyone is up for the challenge like you are.”

“You didn’t leave me with much choice.”

“Uh-uh. You can’t blame me for this. You’re up here because you want to be.” He drapes my legs on either side of his, spreading me wide open for the guests to gawk at.

I try to bring my knees together, but his are in the way, keeping my bare pussy exposed. A collective murmur trickles through the crowd, and I pick up words and phrases like “wet” and “begging to be fucked.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Be a dirty girl for me.” Ignoring my protest, Ford cups my lace-covered breasts, thumbs whisking over hardened nipples, and an electric current zaps me to the core. My hips rock without instruction.

“Such a good, dirty girl.” His satisfied growl rumbles beneath me. “I bet I can guess who’s got you wet.”

My gaze connects with a pair of blazing blue eyes, and Ford chuckles.

“Should’ve gone with silver,” he says.

I’ve never regretted a decision more.

As Sebastian’s predatory stare heats every inch of my body, I wish I could rewind time and choose silver. If I had, Ford might allow him on this platform with me, touching and tasting and driving me wild. Instead, I settle for the weight of his gaze on my skin. It zeros between my thighs, stalling there as he licks his lips, and if that’s not an invitation to take what I crave, then I don’t know what is.

“Touch yourself,” Ford whispers, echoing Sebastian’s unspoken sentiment, his lips a warm tease on my neck. “Give our guests a show they won’t forget.”

“How should I…?” With an uncertain gulp, I trail off. “What do you want me to do?”

He pushes my hand between my legs. “Do whatever feels good. Rub your clit, tease yourself with a finger, or maybe you want to try a rougher technique?” His exhale shudders against my skin. “I’ve heard Sebastian likes it rough, out of control, desperate. So do I.”

I’m. On. Fire.

Plunging a finger into my drenched opening, I try to stifle a moan, but one breaks free anyway. The symphony of my arousal spurs me on, making my body slacken against Ford in sensory overload.

He’s hard and warm underneath me, his hands playing with my nipples, his knees keeping mine spread so lustful eyes can watch while I play with myself. Using the palm of my hand, I massage my clit, my pace increasing with each circular motion.

Pressure amps, blood pumps faster, making me squirm on Ford’s lap. My mouth forms Sebastian’s name, and our eyes lock. Everyone else fades away, ceasing to exist as the room narrows to only him and me.

To his kissable bottom lip, tugged between his teeth, and my newly confident fingers, pumping in and out of my pussy.

Faster. Harder. Giving in to the intensity of pleasure. Ignoring the pinch of virtue’s pain.

I bring my hand to my mouth long enough to suck a digit between my lips, and Sebastian’s nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing to azure slits.

He’s blazing for me, hotter than I’ve ever seen him burn.

My head thrashes from side to side as I return my hand to the center of my need for him, pushing deeper, imagining he’s the one touching me. Possessive authority transforms his scruffy face, tightening his mouth into a grim line, hardening his jaw with the need to conquer me from where he stands. His hands fist at his sides.

He’s holding himself in check by a thread.

And I’m reeling, my heartbeat palpitating in ecstasy’s dance, muscles tense as I hang suspended in the space between exquisite buildup and euphoric release.

“So close,” Ford breathes, hips rocking to the same beat as mine. “So ready to come.” He grips my inner thighs. “You want it, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut. As I approach the pinnacle, I keep the image of Sebastian in my mind.

That’s when Ford yanks my hand away, locking my wrist in the circle of his strong grip.

“What are you doing?” I gasp.

“Stopping you. I’m not ready for you to come yet.”

5

Delirium. It’s the only word that aptly describes my feverish state of mind. By the time I open my eyes again, the room is somehow darker, overcome with the type of disquiet that would amplify the drop of a pin if it weren’t for the techno music coming through the speakers.

Not a single person moves, and that’s when it dawns on me the guests have multiplied twofold…and every member of the Brotherhood stands front and center, watching me touch myself.

Watching me come undone for Sebastian.

I feel my cheeks go hot. This isn’t me. I’m not the type of girl to lie on a man’s lap in public, legs spread wide as a whiny voice pleads for climax. Except this is me, I am begging Ford to let me come, and that’s my pussy on display for everyone to see.

My throbbing, wet pussy.

With a pathetic whimper, I fight Ford’s restraining grip to no avail. “Let me finish.”

His hold on me tightens. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I know your cunt’s begging to come, but you can wait a little longer.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’ve got a gift for you.”

“What?” Alarm takes hold of my vocal cords. “What are you talking about?”

“Telling you would spoil the fun, and I think you’ve figured out how much I enjoy a good time.”

“You enjoy tricking me, Mr. Stryker.”

“How have I tricked you?”

“With the masks, with my participation in your shenanigans, and now with this surprise gift.”

“No tricks, my queen. I’ve given you a choice all along. This time is no different. Do you want to find out what my gift is?”

“What if I say no?”

“Then you go back to pleasuring yourself while Sensation eye-fucks you from across the room.” Ford leans close, his mouth an inch from my ear, and I sense the upward curve of those lips. “Or you take a chance and discover what’s behind door number two.”

“How can I decide when you won’t even give me a hint?”

“Same way you chose your mask.”

My first instinct is to say no, but at the beginning of the evening, when he said he’d choose silver if it were up to him, my spiteful gut-reaction led me astray. This night could have gone much differently if I’d taken his advice. I settle my attention on Sebastian again, my heart pumping overtime in cautious hope.

Will Ford give him permission to touch me?

“Okay,” I say with a hard swallow. “I accept your gift.”

Ford turns my head to face him. “Choose one of my brothers to join us. It can be anyone as long as his mask matches yours.”

My eyes widen. “You said no tricks.”

“How did I trick you?”

“You implied you’d let Sebastian join us.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Yes, you did, and if I’d known, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

Ford grins. “It’s too late to change your mind. Decide, or I’ll decide for you.”

“How is this a gift?” I glare at him, tempted to smack that black and silver mask off his mischievous face.

“Choose and find out.”

My gaze clashes with Sebastian’s before swerving to Liam’s eager expression.

Silver and black.

Only one match.

And not the one I want.

No, no, no. This isn’t happening.

I take in the rest of the Brotherhood, tallying up the members donning black masks. In addition to the chancellor, Pax, Miles, Landon, and Vance are my options. Liam and Landon are out of the question for two very different reasons, which leaves…

The kinky doctor and two of the monsters I fear the most. Ford’s got me backed into a corner, and he knows it. So much for freedom and fun. He’s forcing me into another decision, another situation, another impossible choice. Is this how the whole month will progress—with him forcing me into one impossible decision after the next?

“Do you need help deciding?”

I shake my head. At best, his illusion of choice is a manipulation. At worst, it’s a carefully constructed master plan.

Because there’s only one option, and it’s Vance Morgan—the only man other than Sebastian and Liam I can stand the thought of touching me. He’s a doctor, and he’s examined me before, shown me kindness when I desperately needed it. During his month, he even put his mouth on me.

Besides, the man is an exhibitionist.

“Vance,” I say, my vocal cords constricting.

The doctor’s steel gray eyes connect with mine, seeming to soften in the dim light, telling me he understands why he’s my choice.

Why he’s the only choice.

As much as Sebastian urged me to play Ford’s game, I know choosing Liam to finish what I started is out of the question.

Ford gestures at the doctor, and as Vance climbs onto the platform, the continuous techno beat intensifies. Or maybe it’s my heartbeat pulsing too loudly in my ears, amping up with nerves and anticipation.

Vance removes his jacket, ties back his blond hair, and crawls onto the end of the lounger between Ford’s feet. His lustful gaze settles on the core of my sex.

“So beautiful.” A satisfied grin takes hold of his lips. “So wet. Do you want me to lick your pussy?”

I didn’t expect my core to clench so tightly at his words, but something about his question sparks me back to life—as if Ford never stopped me from reaching the peak. I fear one stroke of Vance’s tongue will be enough to send me over the edge.

“Novalee?” Vance gently prods. “Do you want me to make you come?”

Desire shudders down my legs, and all I can do is nod like the aroused fool I am, lips parting as my breaths hasten and shallow.

“Tell him,” Ford growls. “I want to hear you say the words.”

“Make me come.” It’s a breathless capitulation, and my thighs tense, bracing for the impact of Vance’s mouth on me.

God help me, but in this moment, I crave an orgasm more than anything, and that gives me pause, because this feeling—this out-of-control need sizzling in my blood—is much too familiar. It’s the sort of intoxication that’s levels beyond what a little over-indulgence in bubbly can do.

“You drugged the champagne, didn’t you?” I command the doctor’s gaze, my accusation directed at him because he’s the only one with the means to cause hyper arousal like this.

His smug expression confirms what I already know. “It’s not as strong as the elixir you took during the month of Cancer. Just enough to allow the guests to lower their guards and enjoy the evening.”

“So you’re saying it won’t inhibit me this time?”

“Quite the opposite, love.” Vance traces a light circle around my wet opening, his fingertip spreading my arousal. “It makes you ready.”

“And willing,” I accuse.

A secret smile plays on his mouth as he inches that digit inside me. “There’s that hymen,” he says. “So sweet and innocent.”

“Innocence is more than a barrier of skin, Dr. Morgan.”

“You’re right. Innocent doesn’t describe this wet pussy.” He adds another finger, stretching, exploring, making me grit my teeth from the combination of blissful pressure and quiet discomfort. His fingers are bigger than mine, more experienced. More aggressive.

I huff out a breath. “I want your mouth on me.” The instant the demand falls from my lips, guilt tries to break through the sexual haze. My attention returns to Sebastian…except the spot where he stood is empty. Liam is gone, too.

They left.

My gut revolts. Tears of mortification sting the backs of my eyeballs. But my body is trapped in another reality as Vance’s technique curls my toes. He lowers his head between my thighs, and awareness of anything besides his tongue sliding up my slit flees as quickly as Liam and Sebastian did.

“How does it feel?” Ford spreads me even wider, his knees keeping mine open for Vance’s slow and deliberate tongue strokes.

“Feels…oh God…” Trailing off on a guttural moan, I arch my spine, body fighting Ford’s grip, but he’s rendered me helpless by pinning me against his hard muscles.

“Sweet Jesus,” he says, letting go of my wrists to yank down the stretchy lace of my bodice. He palms my breasts, weighing them in his hands as he rolls my nipples between thumb and forefinger. “Hold on to his head. Show him exactly how you want him to eat that sweet cunt.”

I don’t know what’s come over me, but I clutch Vance’s head as if I’ll never let go, my pelvis arching into his mouth, riding his tongue and the fingers buried inside me.

Ford pinches my nipples hard. “Tell me how it feels. Describe it, Novalee.”

“So good,” I moan, chest heaving into Ford’s hands. Between my splayed thighs, I watch as Vance shakes his head back and forth. “So wet…and hot…not t-too hard or…soft…it’s…God…”

“Enough teasing,” Ford rasps. “Tell him to fuck your cunt with his tongue.”

My head’s spinning, and a thunderous roar fills my ears. Or maybe that’s just me, letting out a series of moans, because every inch of skin tingles, shivers, ignites. I can hardly catch my breath.

“Tell him, my queen.”

“Fuck me with your tongue.”

The doctor obeys, and Ford and I groan in unison. “Such a dirty little mouth for a good girl like you.” He shoves his fingers between my lips. “Suck. Show me how this slut mouth would wreck my cock.”

I flick my tongue over Ford’s salty digits, eyes closed as I lose myself to the sex-induced high. The three of us move like the sea, working in tandem and rising like an unstoppable tsunami.

Crying out around the gag of his fingers, I beg to come, the plea but a muffled whine.

“Not yet, my naughty girl.” Ford hitches me up his abdomen until his erection springs free between my legs.

Hot disappointment courses through me, then shock when Vance shifts to take Ford’s straining cock into his mouth.

“Ah sweetest hell,” he groans at my ear. “You made the right choice, baby girl.”

Ford returns to fondling my breasts, but my attention attaches itself to Vance’s busy head. His lips close around Ford’s mushroom tip, his tongue tasting the flesh there, working it over for several minutes before he sucks down the entire veiny length.

“Oh fucking hell.” Ford’s breathless epithet shivers down the back of my neck as he arches up to meet the doctor’s wicked mouth with every downward slide of those talented lips.

I’ve never witnessed anything so raw and erotic, and I’m entranced, blindly fascinated, floating on another realm entirely.

As if I’m outside my body and looking down at the three of us.

“Touch yourself,” Ford breathes.

I bury two fingers between my slick folds, my rhythm frantic and sloppy and as desperate as the way Ford pushes into Vance’s hungry mouth.

“You’re right. His mouth is fucking heaven. I bet he eats pussy as well as he sucks cock. I’m going to come so hard.” Ford grips me by the nape, upturning my face, and his mouth slams onto mine as he groans through his release.

It’s all too much. Too surreal. Too intimate as his tongue chases mine into submission. Shaking, unable to move or even breathe, I crash into an orgasm of my own, an extended grand finale so powerful it shoots uncontrollable spasms down my limbs.

At the peak of intensity, Sebastian’s face strobes behind my eyelids, and I hold onto the image as if my life depends on it.

Ford and I break apart, and I sob Sebastian’s name, a guttural cry of loyalty and affirmation wrenched from deep inside me.

Because it’s him. It’s always been him. Always will be him—no matter whose body forces mine into orgasmic surrender.

But he didn’t stick around to hear my vow, to witness the strength of my need for him. The collision of lust and longing boiling in my veins.

A roomful of strangers did.

They watched me drop all of my walls, laying my soul bare as Sebastian owned my heart. They watched something that should have been intimate, private, an act between two people in love.

Two people…in a tower of twelve men.

It will never be just the two of us. Not now, in the month of Scorpio. Not even after we marry. The only taste of freedom we had was in that cottage on the beach. A day I treasure, even if it went by too quickly. Even though it ended with an argument on the side of the road.

Oh, how I wish that cottage was within arm’s reach right now.

“Let me go,” I mumble, extricating myself from Ford’s arms. As I sit up, putting my dress back into place, Vance gets to his feet.

“Thank you for choosing me,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I could cut him down with a contemptuous retort, remind him how he was the lesser of too many evils. I could say how Ford’s choice was no choice at all.

But part of me doesn’t believe it—not when the evidence of my orgasm dampens my inner thighs. As tears threaten to fall, I bolt from the makeshift stage, mortification hot on my heels.

6

The women’s powder room is the closest place in which to purge my shame in privacy, but the door barely closes behind me before it blasts open again. Lilith stands with her arms crossed, the pose putting her ample bosom on display, and though she says nothing, the fury in her jade eyes is enough to raise my hackles.

“What do you want?” I ask, adrenaline and alcohol rushing through my blood. I’m not sure if I’m about to vomit or pass out.

“You can’t have them all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Vance. Sebastian. Liam. Even Ford. Stop acting like they’re your harem. They don’t belong to you.”

Her accusatory tone flips a switch inside me—one that’s long overdue—and I advance until we’re an arm’s length apart.

“How ironic, since every man you mentioned thinks I belong to them.” I mimic the square set of her shoulders.

“You’re a toy they like to play with, is all.” She purses her burgundy-painted lips. “They’ll tire of you eventually.”

“I hope you’re right, because I’m tired of playing.” And I’m tired of this conversation already. In fact, I’m tired of this night. I move to step past her, my focus on the door, but she halts me with a harsh grip on my bicep.

“You’ve already hooked Sebastian. Leave the rest of them alone.” Gouging me with her manicured nails, she sneers at me.

I shoot her a warning glare and shrug off her grip. “Your jealousy is not my problem.”

Her eyes narrow. “Don’t be absurd. I have no reason to be jealous of anyone, least of all a naive girl who’s little more than chattel.”

“At least I’m not carrying the child of a man who wants nothing to do with me.” I should feel a trace of guilt for using her pregnancy against her, but I can’t muster another drop of the soul-crushing emotion right now—not for her.

I’ve filled my quota of guilt for a lifetime.

But instead of disarming her, my cattiness seems to amuse her. The corners of her mouth turn up in a cruel smile.

“It digs under your skin, doesn’t it? Knowing he loved me.” She inches closer, lowering her voice. “Do you see us together in your mind? Imagine his cock sliding into me? I won’t lie. We were great together. That boy came for me like nobody’s business.”

Fury boils in my veins, and to be fair, it’s not all directed at her. No, plenty of it is directed at myself for allowing her to tear me apart like this. Her words only hurt because I allow them to.

And I’m angry at Sebastian for putting me in this position. I’m angry with them all. But she’s the one in front of me right now, urging my claws to come out, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.

“Sebastian told me he made a mistake when he fucked you goodbye. You should thank me for stepping up to take on your responsibility.”

“What are you talking about?” she grinds out through clenched teeth.

“Your child. Sebastian asked me to help him raise the consequences of your poor choice.”

Denying her the chance to respond, I push past her and barrel out the door. I’ve barely made it three steps down the hallway, my limbs heavy and sluggish, when I realize I’m more inebriated than when I escaped the aftermath of Ford’s public display of indecency. Either that, or it’s adrenaline from the confrontation I just fled. Maybe it’s a bit of both, but as I approach the ballroom’s entrance, the wall all but invites my body to lean into it.

That’s where Ford finds me, using the wall for support as the hallway spins.

“Here, hold on to me,” he says, offering me an arm. “A little too much champagne?”

“A little too much everything.” After the show we put on in front of his guests, I can’t even look at him.

He tilts my chin up, his fingers gentle on my skin. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Novalee. There isn’t a person in that room that didn’t enjoy what they saw.”

“I think Sebastian and Liam might disagree.”

“They’re the exception. Those two love-sick fools are much too invested, exposing their bleeding hearts for everyone to see.”

In my alcohol-laden mind, I play back all the times my own heart bled, especially over Sebastian’s situation with Lilith. “They must be so upset with me.”

“Sharing the queen is tradition, and it’s expected. They’ve been preparing for you their whole lives. We all have.”

“Sebastian didn’t want any of this.”

“We’re in it whether we like it or not. If he cares about you at all, he’ll figure his shit out. None of this is your fault.”

“Why did you make me do it?”

“To break the ice.”

I shake my head. “You did it because it thrilled you.”

“Well,” he says, one brow raised. “That too.”

He begins ushering me into the ballroom, but the floor seems to tilt underneath me again. I cover my mouth as nausea rises.

“Okay,” he says, snaking an arm around my waist. “I think it’s time to tuck you in for the night.”

“I’m fine,” I protest, even though I know I’m not.

“You will be after some aspirin and a good night’s rest.” He changes course, escorting me in the opposite direction of the raucous dance, and Lilith emerges from where I left her.

She strides back toward the ball, the scowl on her face a notch above lethal, but she doesn’t say a thing. I glance heavenward, offering a silent thank-you for small favors.

“What was that about?” Ford asks.

“We had words in the women’s room.”

“About what?”

“About Sebastian and Vance. She didn’t like what happened back there.”

Ford scoffs. “She has no say in it. She’s just jealous because you have access, if not a right, to what she wants herself.”

“She wants Sebastian.”

As Ford presses the call button for the elevator, he laughs. “He’s not the ones she wants.”

“Then why was she so hateful toward me?”

“Because Vance would rather play with you than her.”

I think back to the night I watched the two of them together in his kinky chambers. They tore at each other like wild, starved animals desperate to feed. He wanted her the way Sebastian and Liam want me.

“I don’t believe it. There’s no way he’d rather have me over her.”

“It’s true. He’s cross with her over her knocked up status. Hasn’t set a finger on her since he found out.”

His admission stuns me into silence for the remainder of the ride up to the sixth floor. As he helps me to my quarters, I’m still trying to process our surprising exchange.

Because I was certain Lilith’s jealousy stemmed from my involvement with Sebastian—not a one-off public display of humiliation with the man who had to negotiate to get her in his bed.

Ford switches on a lamp at my bedside, and that’s when the silver mask—left abandoned in its fancy box on the ottoman—catches my attention. That mask reminds me of how far this night digressed from the outcome I’d hoped for. All I’d wanted was to spend the evening with Sebastian, wrapped safe in his arms.

Oh, how cruel hope can be.

Before I realize my composure is crumbling, emotions escaping down my cheeks in hot, bitter tracks, Ford brushes the tears from my skin.

“Why are you crying?”

“I had such high hopes for tonight. I thought Sebastian and I would talk, and he’d forgive me. At least, I hoped he would. Instead, I betrayed him all over again.”

Ford cradles my face. “Listen to me. You haven’t betrayed anyone. No matter what you’ve done with Liam, or Sebastian, or Vance, or me, we all have the right to touch you. An equal right. You need to put the guilt where it belongs, on us. It doesn’t belong on your shoulders.”

“I didn’t have to enjoy what we did.”

He grabs my dress and yanks it up my body, leaving me standing in the nude before his appreciative eyes. I let him ogle me, too drunk and weak to care about covering myself at this point.

“If I wanted to lay you out on the bed and eat your cunt, you couldn’t stop me. You’re powerless here, so stop blaming yourself.”

“You’d force me?” Instead of shaking off my guilt, the whimper that escapes my lips only heightens it. Cements it in my heart, because I can see everything he just said, the images looping in my mind. The visual is too strong, and it shoots renewed desire between my thighs.

“Not force,” he says, shaking his head as he backs me into the edge of the mattress. “Coax, Novalee. You might feel the need to protest, but I’d make you feel so incredibly good that you wouldn’t be able to fight me for long.” He gives an easy shove to my shoulders until I’m sitting on the bed. With a gentle tilt of my chin, he commands my gaze. “Do you want to sleep, or do you want to feel good?”

“I don’t want to sleep.” Sleeping brings on nightmares and loneliness and horrific memories I can’t escape, not even in slumber. “But I don’t want option two either.”

“Why are you so ashamed for wanting what you want?”

“Have you ever been in love?” I counter.

He shakes his head.

“Not even a little?”

“I never gave myself the chance.”

“Why not?”

“I grew up with two parents who resented each other for things out of their control. The queen’s duty made things like loyalty an impossibility. So I eliminated it early on.”

“By not falling in love?”

He leans over me on the mattress. “Emotional attachments only bring misery.” Swallowing hard, he glances down my naked form. “Like you right now, trying so valiantly to fight Vance’s drug, all in the name of love and loyalty.”

“It’s who I am.”

“I figured as much.” With a sigh, he backs away. “Such a goddamn shame, my queen, because I was going to make you come until you couldn’t handle it anymore.”

As my nipples pebble in the chill of the room, I whimper. “The doctor’s drug is only effective on my body. It has no affect on my heart.”

“A product defect I’m sure he’ll work on.” His mouth twitches. “No one ever accused the Brotherhood of giving up when it comes to the conquering of queens.” He tucks me in bed before bringing me a glass of water and two aspirin.

“Thank you,” I say, warming up to Ford’s sweet and thoughtful side, despite the games he likes to play.

“Feel better. Maybe tomorrow will bring a little sunshine with it.” He kisses my forehead and turns off the lamp.

After he leaves, I think about what he said, allowing myself to hope that things will look better in the light of day. But it isn’t long before the first hint of rain splashes on my bedroom window, an omen for the aftermath of this disastrous night.

7

Naked bodies are sprawled everywhere. And when I mean everywhere…I mean everywhere. As I stand in the middle of Ford’s great room with my mouth agape, rain pelts the windows, obliterating any chance for a ray of sunshine. The tap-tap-tap does little to drown out the snores of too many sleeping bodies.

The place is trashed. Discarded articles of clothing clutter the floor, and half empty crystal tumblers, ice cubes long ago melted in various shades of amber liquid, take up every tabletop in the room. Sweat, smoke, and overly sweet perfume floats in the air. Guests are wrapped around each other on the couches, some in groups, their limbs tangling in intricate familiarity. Others are passed out cold on the floor.

I gawk at the lewd scene for a few moments before spotting Ford on the center couch with a redhead sprawled on top of his bare chest. A man covered in tattoos has his head in Ford’s lap, soft snores coming from his drooling mouth.

I can’t believe I slept through this last night…whatever this was. An orgy? An afterparty sex club? Is there even a term for what I’m witnessing? But maybe this scene is nothing new to Ford Stryker—just another night of fun he ticks off on the calendar.

As if sensing someone from the land of the living, the redhead stirs, stretching her muscles as if she slept in that position on top of him all night. She turns her face my way, skin puffy under the eyes, hair matted to her forehead.

A suggestive smile crosses her plump, well-used lips. “You want to join, sweetie?”

Her words stun me into a breathless stutter. “N-no.”

Keeping her jade eyes on me, she moves down Ford’s abs and pushes tattoo guy out of the way, uncaring when he slumps to the floor. The guy groans, shifting onto his side and falling back to sleep almost instantly.

The woman arches a brow. “Are you sure? I’ll take care of Ford’s cock so you can get off on his face. He enjoys eating pussy first thing.”

I gulp, croaking out an, “I’m sure” as she fits her lips around his morning erection. I should avert my eyes, find an excuse to leave—any excuse—but I’m frozen to the spot, watching in morbid fascination.

A throaty moan escapes him as he awakes, both hands drifting to her auburn locks. Taking hold of her head, he settles his sleepy gaze on me, and that’s when I stumble back, about to flee to the safety of my quarters.

“Please don’t go.” Leveling me with a smoldering stare, he pushes deeper into her mouth. “I’d love for you to watch.”

“Last night was mortifying enough.” I turn to take my leave, one hand gripping my pounding head, when a sound of commotion has me peeking over my shoulder.

Ford is on his feet, cock still standing at attention, and the redhead glares from her spot on the couch, her body in a heap as if he just dumped her there like an afterthought. He gives a loud, decisive clap that echoes through the space.

“Everyone! Party’s over.”

The man must be a magician, because his guests start to stir, one by one. As people search for their belongings, the redhead pouts.

“Ford,” she draws out in a long whine. “We were just getting to the fun stuff.”

“Another time, baby. The queen and I have a breakfast date.”

“We do?” I eye him warily, but he just grins, unabashed by his nudity, so I wander to the wall of windows to give him and his guests some privacy while they dress.

The sky is dreary, blotted with deepening clouds and slashed with sheets of rain. I wonder if Sebastian is viewing the hopeless sight from his place several floors above me. Are his thoughts plagued with memories of us, his head playing tricks on him as he imagines me strolling along the cliffside? Is he painting the recollection now, his talented, expert hands bringing a fresh masterpiece to life?

A door slams shut behind me, and I’m startled to find the room has been cleared, except for Ford.

“That was quick,” I say, nodding toward the quiet, empty space.

“No one wants to wear out their welcome here.” He zips up the same pair of slacks he wore last night. “They enjoy my parties too much.” As he picks up his shirt from the floor, he winks at me. “How about breakfast? I’ll have someone clean up while we eat.”

“Um…okay.”

“What do you want, Novalee?” The tone of his voice gives me pause. So does the way he’s studying me—as if I’m a puzzle he can’t wait to figure out. He’s asking for my breakfast order, but I sense an undercurrent of assessment that has nothing to do with food.

“Nothing too heavy. I’m still a bit queasy from last night.” I don’t even try to keep the accusation out of my voice.

This is all his fault.

His responding smile tells me he knows it. “Make yourself comfortable in the dining room,” he says before disappearing into what I assume is the library to put in our order.

The kitchen staff work their magic fast, and twenty minutes later, we’re both seated at one end of his oblong wooden table, a spread of fruit salad, pumpkin French toast, and hot coffee in front of us. Ford wastes no time digging in, his appetite for breakfast as hearty as his appetite for sex, it seems.

I pick at the apple salad on my plate, spearing a piece with my fork despite the aroma of cinnamon making my gut roil. Silence stretches between us, and maybe it’s the companionable kind to him, but to me, it’s torture. This whole morning is unsettling—awaking with the worst headache I’ve ever had while my horrific behavior last night plagues my mind.

“So what is it you do?” I ask, needing to fill the space with more than the sound of my heartbeat pulsing too fast in my ears.

He arches a brow. “Do?”

“As in work, hobbies, or passions. Liam is chancellor, Mr. Bordeaux peddles jewelry, Landon’s in politics, Vance is a doctor, Sebastian’s an artist…” I trail off, refusing to continue with Miles and his kinky sex contraptions, or Pax and his obsession with punishment. “What makes you get up in the morning?”

“Nothing, my queen.” Ford smirks at me. “I’m just naturally erect.”

“Is everything a joke to you?”

“Only about ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“And the remaining one percent?”

“Well, there’s eating and sleeping.” As he takes a sip of his coffee, his lips twitch at the corners.

“So no profession? No hobbies? Just endless…fun?”

“For now, yeah. This is the first time my life has felt like my own. Eventually, my family will expect things of me, but until the auction is in my rearview, I’m free, and I’m taking advantage of every second. And I’m doing it on their dime, I might add.”

At least one of us is free. I shovel in a bite of French toast and try to keep my bitterness from showing.

“Get it off your chest,” he says, dumping more sugar into his black coffee. Three teaspoons too many, if you ask me.

“Get what off my chest?” Maybe what I should have asked was where do I start?

“Whatever made those gorgeous brown eyes of yours turn to lifeless mud just now.”

“It should have been Sebastian last night.”

More silence rings between us, loud and burdensome in its existence. Ford isn’t brushing off what I said, or thinking of ways to soothe the unsettling flutter of dread inside me. There’s something real about him as he steeples his hands on the table, a frown furrowing the space between his brows.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, as if he knows how crushing the weight of my actions are on my heart. “I never meant to upset you so much. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve lost my judgement when people take their clothes off. Let me make it up to you.”

“I don’t need anymore of your gifts.”

“This one you’ll like, I promise.”

He sounds so earnest. Looks it too, with the way he trains his hazel eyes on me, the seriousness of what he’s about to say drawn in subtle lines on his face.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“You want Sebastian, so I’m going to give him to you.”

I fail to breathe for several seconds, daring to hope I’m not walking into another trap. “What do you mean?”

“The last weekend of this month is yours. If you want to spend it with him, I won’t stop you. You have my full blessing.”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s the condition?”

He laughs—the type of laugh that would make toes curl because it’s so deep and full. “I’m amazed at how well you know me already.”

“So there are strings.”

“More like a bargain.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. “A friend invited me to a party in a couple of weeks. I want you to go with me.”

“And do what?”

“Be my date.”

“Why me? You’re not short on women—and men—who are willing to be at your beck and call.” I wave in the direction of his great room. “Take one of them, or five, but please leave me out of your games.”

“I need you.”

“Why?”

“This friend of mine, well he and I are pretty much friends for competition’s sake.” Ford sends a meaningful glance down my chest, his attention resting on the scoop of my neckline. “He has a thing for gorgeous blondes. Bonus points if they’re off-limits to him.”

I gasp. “You want to share me?”

“Of course not. I want you to pretend you like me for a night to make him jealous. It’s fun to one-up him, trust me.”

I shake my head. “What happened last night is not happening again.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’ll keep your clothes on, Novalee. I just want you to play a role.”

“What kind of role?”

“The kind you were born for. The role of an innocent virgin queen.”

“Do I have a choice? Or are you going to force me again?”

“No force, but I will coax and challenge you. Say yes, and I’ll make every minute of fun we have together worth it, in more ways than one.”

“You didn’t let me say no last night.”

He raises a brow. “Did you really try?”

I open my mouth to defend myself, but I can’t. Instead, I go on the offensive. “So if I’d said no, you would have let me go without consequence?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. I would have been disappointed, but I’m a big boy. I would’ve found someone else to play with.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you.” Not after facing objectification by a number of manipulative men. A mental flash of Vance’s head between my thighs sends a rebellious flush across my chest. The worst part is how I keep caving.

“I understand why you’re hesitant to trust me, or anyone else in the Brotherhood, for that matter.” Ford dips his head in a nod of concession. “I realize we all face a lifetime of earning your trust after the year is up. I’ll try to do better.”

“I appreciate the effort.” A beat passes as I consider everything he said, weighing his words for deceit, but my gut tells me he’s being truthful. “For the record, I do like you, Ford. I think we could be friends.”

“You’re friend-zoning me, huh?”

“Friends are hard to come by in this place.”

“That they are, which brings me back to my request. Will you go with me?”

“If I go, you’ll let me spend the last weekend of this month with Sebastian?” My tone is dubious at best, because despite wanting to believe him, a part of me just…can’t. Not yet.

“I’ll even set it up with him before the party.”

The thought of Ford bargaining with Sebastian on my behalf makes me sick to my stomach. “Would you mind if I approach him about it?”

“I have no interest in micromanaging your time. If you want to spend some of it with him or anyone else, that’s your prerogative. I only ask that you keep your clothes on. I think we’ve had enough summons for the year, don’t you?”

“What about during the weekend you’re giving me? Am I free to…?” A thick swallow dislodges the sudden lump in my throat. “Can I touch him?”

More than touch him.

Ford shoots me a rakish grin. “That weekend, clothing is optional, my queen. No restrictions, outside the boundaries of the contract.”

A flutter of excitement bubbles in my chest. “Then you’ve got a date, Mr. Stryker.”

8

Sebastian’s studio door stands open a crack, as if someone didn’t check to make sure it was closed all the way. I should keep walking toward my own workspace—I’m already running late and don’t want to keep my team waiting—but that ajar door taunts the punctuality right out of me. How can I not peek in on him?

Since the night of the ball—the last time I set eyes on Sebastian—four days have passed. Four excruciating long days of Ford’s endless stream of guests while I focused on getting things in order to return to my studio. The month of Libra threw off my schedule, and now my team and I need to work overtime to finish the line before the fashion show next month.

But instead of concentrating on work, I find myself stalling at Sebastian’s door, starved for a glimpse of him as I peer through the crack like a voyeur.

He’s standing with his back to me, signature ripped jeans hugging his ass to perfection. A dark gray shirt hangs on him in a way that makes me think he left it unbuttoned in the front. His body is distracting enough, though that isn’t what has me mesmerized.

The way he strokes a paintbrush across the canvas has me glued to the spot. His subject is a voluptuous woman with hair the color of caramel that falls over her creamy shoulders in sleek, elegant waves. Her long legs are crossed at the ankles, while the weight of her luscious hair covers her generous breasts. The pose is discreet, tasteful, and completely risqué despite all that she isn’t revealing.

Everything in me says I should be jealous at seeing him paint another woman, even knowing he does it on a daily basis in a professional capacity, but I’m not.

I’m in awe—of his talent, his passion, his drive. There’s something enthralling about watching him work, about witnessing the way he transfers the beautiful curves of the female form onto the canvas.

All over again, it hits me how much I love this man. Intensely, irrevocably…possessively. His nameless model has the attention of his artist’s eye, but I own every beat of his tragic heart. I’ve got the promise of a lifetime of his love, and it’s a heady realization that shatters the last of my crumbling insecurities.

I’m not sure how long I intrude on their session, lurking from the outskirts, but nothing is more important than watching Sebastian Alexander Stone in his element.

Sexy as sin, indeed.

By the time his model begins to dress, indicating the end of the session, I’m thoroughly flushed, my fingers aching to sink into his thick hair. My breasts tingle in anticipation of coming into contact with his solid, warm chest. My body hasn’t gotten the memo that touching him isn’t allowed.

Not technically, anyway. Ford said I need to keep my clothes on, but he gave no indication of what I can and can’t do in said clothing.

His model exits his studio, and I slip in, unnoticed until the door clicks shut behind me. He’s in clean-up mode when his eyes find mine. A paintbrush drops to the floor, but it does little to distract me from the brutal discoloring around his eyes.

Both are black and blue.

“What happened?” The question squeaks out in alarm.

He blinks before running a hand down his face as if he’s only now remembering the shocking display of his battle wounds. “I got into it with Pax.”

First Miles and now this, not to mention the way he attacked Liam at the ball. “You can’t beat up every man who hurts me.”

“I sure as hell can.” His hands flex at his sides, loosening in slow degrees as his shoulders relax. “What are you doing here, Novalee?”

“I needed to see you.” As my heart thuds against my rib cage, I flatten my palms against the door behind me—it’s the only thing keeping me steady.

He folds his arms, drawing my attention to the ripped cut of his abs. “Does Ford know you’re here?”

“He said I can spend my time how I want as long as I keep my clothes on.”

Sebastian’s nostrils flare. “I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad stipulation.” He takes a bold step in my direction. “No, it’s definitely the former, considering our track record.”

“I disagree. I think it would be very good to get naked with you.”

Biting his lip, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Are you trying to fuck with my head? You know we can’t do that.”

“What if I told you we can?”

His ocean eyes lower to my breasts, deepening to the sea at dusk. “Don’t tease me with impossibilities, princess.”

“Being together isn’t impossible. Ford is giving us the last weekend of the month. It’s ours to spend how we want. No restrictions…” Trailing off, I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“After what I did at the ball…” I close my eyes and breathe. “I’m sorry for betraying you…again.”

The rustle of demin, along with his purposeful stride across the marble flooring brings him closer. His heat washes over me, and I lift my lashes to find him studying my face.

“I should’ve known you’d beat yourself up over that.” His expression softens as he leans into me, the bare expanse of smooth, hard stomach heating me through my dress.

“How could I not? I let them touch me, and…I enjoyed it.”

“You drank the champagne.” He pauses, letting the excuse gain traction against my conscience. “And even if you hadn’t taken Vance’s drug, you proved your loyalty by choosing him over Liam. That decision meant the world to me.”

“You’re not upset with me?”

“I’m upset that you had to make the decision at all.” He fingers a lock of my hair, his full mouth turning down in a frown. “No more guilt. Whatever you have to do from here on out to survive these next few months, I’m here, no matter what.”

“But you left last night.”

“I’m not a masochist. Castle wasn’t far behind me, either.” His palm fits along my cheek. “I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong.”

I trace a thumb over the bruising under his left eye. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as knowing what that sicko in the dungeon did to you.”

“It could have been much worse.”

“I know, and that’s what keeps me up at night. You’re too vulnerable here, Novalee. I can’t…” He blinks the brightness from his eyes. “I can’t fucking protect you. At least Castle had the balls to try.”

“You can love me, and never give up on me…you can touch me.” My voice cracks. “Please.”

With a trembling sigh, he grabs me by the nape, his rough cheek sliding along mine. “I’d give anything to feel you buck against my hand right now.” His fresh, clean essence fills my senses, and my core floods with urgent need.

“Kiss me. Please…I want you so much it’s killing me.”

“We can’t.” His choked reply is little more than throttled regret, hindered desire, willpower’s weakness.

“We can, Sebastian.”

He pulls away with a reluctant groan. “You said he’s giving us a weekend?”

“Yes.”

“What do you have to do in exchange for this weekend?”

I lower my eyes. “Nothing too bad.”

“But you have to do something, right?”

“He wants me to go on a date with him.”

“A date?” His tone is as questionable as I feel about Ford’s bargain.

“He wants to show me off to a friend of his. They have what he called a competitive friendship.”

“Are you allowed to say no?”

“He said I can.”

“Then tell him no, princess. One weekend isn’t worth the trade-off. We have our entire lives ahead of us.” He grips my face between his warm hands. “I’m going to love the shit out of you for the rest of my life. Don’t let the Brotherhood take more than you’ve already given. Not for one weekend.”

“I need this weekend with you.” My eyes sting with desperation. “If I’ve given enough already, then let me have this. Please.”

He presses his lips against my forehead. “I hate this.”

“Me too,” I breathe, closing my eyes as his heat surrounds me. “But Ford isn’t so bad. Maybe it’ll be fun.”

“You barely know him.”

“I know him as well as I can. So far, he’s been one of the better ones.”

Sebastian rests his chin on the top of my head. “He’s a party monster.”

“I’ll take that over the sadistic variety.”

“Just think about it before you make a decision, okay?”

“I already told him yes.”

“Novalee.” Sebastian sighs. “Don’t do this for me.”

“I’m doing it for me.” Now it’s my turn to grab his scruffy cheeks. “What happened at the ball was for him and everyone else in that room. This so-called date is for us and no one else. He’s not forcing me, Sebastian.”

“I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone but me.”

“We don’t live in that reality,” I point out, refusing to back down. “Above all else, I’ve learned that fighting the inevitable gets me nowhere. I want you, but whether I like it or not, I have to accept all twelve of you.”

“No, baby. Don’t you dare give up. Change doesn’t happen without fighting like hell. And trust me when I say that change is coming.”

My hands fall from his cheeks. “What do mean?”

“Landon has a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve already said too much.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re keeping secrets from me?”

“Not by choice. Your brother is the puppet master in this.” He tucks a braid behind my ear. “You’ll find out soon enough, I promise.”

“At least tell me you’ll spend that weekend with me.”

“If the trade-off is worth it to you, then I’m in.”

“It’s worth it,” I whisper, my attention stalling on his mouth.

With pure need weighing down his eyelids, he trails his thumb across my bottom lip. “You’d better go.”

An eternity seems to pass, in which I’m caught in the allure of his stare, intoxicated from his salty thumb on my lips. Keeping my distance is going to be torture, but it’s paramount in ensuring we don’t get into trouble again. I slip out of his studio and hurry down the hall toward my own.

The end of this month can’t arrive quick enough.

9

The next week whizzes by in a flurry of finalizations, last minute prototypes, abundant frustration, and too many tears to count. It’s a grueling process, catching up for lost time in the studio, so when Elise drops by midweek, offering an afternoon outing of lunch and shopping, I can’t turn down such a tempting invitation.

Landon’s driver takes us to the village, where we enjoy a spread of Parisian cuisine at a boutique café Elise discovered last month. After sharing small talk and too many lulls in conversation over lunch, we stroll down the sidewalk in the shopping district, heeled boots crunching on a blanket of colorful leaves. The overcast sky threatens to shower on us, but the breeze is light, the temperature a tad above chilly, and for the first time since I returned to Zodiac Island from Liam’s safe haven off the coast of South America, I feel the burden of my circumstances lift from my shoulders by a small degree.

It’s these unobtrusive moments that mean the most—a meal shared with a friend, an afternoon away from the domineering testosterone in the tower, the simplicity of a leisurely walk while enjoying the autumn air.

If only Elise weren’t so quiet today. I eye her for the fifth time since we left the restaurant, and my concern grows with each shop she passes without so much as a glance at the display window. If there’s one thing Elise loves, it’s shopping.

“How’s married life?” I ask, keeping my voice nonchalant as I stop in front of a jewelry store. A ruby necklace sits on display, and the piece reminds me of the Heart of the Queen.

“Married life is wonderful.” She halts at my side and gestures at the necklace. “You should try it on.”

“Maybe another time.” Just the sight of the gaudy jewel takes me back to Mr. Bordeaux’s month. Willing my heart rate to slow, I move on toward the next shop, which happens to be a baby boutique. “Want to go in and look around? I haven’t gotten you a gift for the baby yet.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I’m going to shower you with gifts, Elise. The birth of your first child is a momentous occasion that should be celebrated.”

To my horror, she bursts into tears. After my shock abates, I ignore the curious looks of passersby and usher her across the street to a deserted park. A pavilion gives us cover from the first rain of the day as we claim one of the benches.

“What’s wrong?” I grip her cold hand between my own.

“Nothing.” She wipes the moisture from her rosy cheeks. “It’s just hormones.”

“It’s more than hormones. You’ve been quiet all day.” I squeeze her hand. “I know I haven’t been there for you lately, and I’m so sorry about that, but I’m here now.”

“I don’t deserve your friendship.”

A heavy moment of disquiet sneaks by. “Of course you do. Why would you say such a thing?”

As she pulls her hand away, her gaze lowers to the ground. “I-I guess I’ve been going through a phase of feeling unworthy. It really is just hormones.”

“You’ve been through a lot. You’re allowed to have bad days.”

“There have been a lot of them lately. I don’t know how Landon puts up with me.”

“He adores the ground you walk on.”

“He shouldn’t.” She exhales on a sigh. “God, listen to me. I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party, especially after everything you’ve been through.” The breeze blows her bangs into her face, and she pushes back the wayward blond strands. “How are things going in the House of Scorpio?”

“I don’t want to talk about me.” She’s changing the subject, and we both know it.

“I get that, but I need the distraction right now. The baby’s been kicking a lot, I’m peeing all the time, and I’m tired and emotional.” A hint of a smile pulls at her lips. “At least one of us got to drink at the ball. I think you had enough champagne for the both of us.”

“And then some. I’m not a fan of hangovers, or Ford’s afterparties.”

She arches a brow. “You mean there was more craziness after the ball?”

“Naked people everywhere the next morning.” I glance heavenward, because even talking about Ford Stryker requires a plea to the gods for patience. “He entertains guests almost every night. They drink, they have sex, they blast music. It’s amazing I’ve been able to sleep at all. Those walls must be soundproof.”

“That sounds…intense.”

“That’s putting it nicely, but he mostly leaves me alone, so I guess I can’t complain, all things considered.”

Because prior houses have shown me how worse it can get.

“Sounds like he’s different from the others.”

“So far, a good time is his only agenda. He’s strong-armed me into being his date for a party this Saturday.”

“That could be…fun?”

“I only agreed because he promised me a weekend with Sebastian if I accompany him.”

“Landon told me you were allowed to spend time with Sebastian this month.”

My eyes widen. “Sebastian told him?”

She shrugs. “Landon’s been spending more time with him since he came back last month.”

“Do you know where he went during his exile?”

“I heard him mention a cottage on the beach.”

My chest constricts, and Elise must notice the sudden brightness in my eyes because she sets her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking back tears, I nod with a smile I don’t feel. “I know of the cottage. It’s just…memories. Really good ones.”

Her face softens. “You haven’t had many good experiences on this island.”

“No, but we’ve come this far, right?”

“We certainly have.”

I stand and hold out a hand. “How about we make this day shine by spoiling that baby like she—or he—deserves?”

“The baby boutique?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, but I’m putting a limit on your gift-giving spree.” With the first real grin I’ve spied on her face all day, she lets me pull her to her feet, and we head toward the shop, trying unsuccessfully to dodge the rain.

10

Apparently, formal attire isn’t required for the evening. Decked out in a pair of khakis and a maroon button-down shirt, Ford appears as relaxed and casual as ever.

“What are you drinking tonight?” he asks, already perusing the limo’s minibar, even though we’ve only been on the road for five minutes. “We’ve got scotch, vodka, whiskey, and champagne, sans the doctor’s magic, of course.” He winks at me.

“Seltzer water, please.”

Ford laughs, his deep rumble filling the neon-lit space. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“I’m reserving judgment until after the party.”

With a smug grin, he settles into the leather seat, knees spread shoulder-width apart as a fifth of top-shelf vodka takes up the space between his legs. He passes me a bottle of sparkling water before fixing himself a cocktail—though it’s a loose term considering he adds just a splash of juice to the highball glass.

“Having a little screw with your driver?”

“Are you offering? Because as much as I appreciate Henry,” he says, nodding to where the driver sits out of view on the other side of the partition, “he’s not really my type.”

“I was talking about the orange juice.”

Ford downs the drink in one long gulp, his hazel eyes laughing at me from above the rim. Licking his lips, he pours another. “Your sassy attitude gets me horny as fuck.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

He chuckles. “I bet you drove Heath crazy with that rebellious mouth.”

“He used fear to break me into submission. I knew not to push him.”

“I don’t scare you?”

His question rattles me. “You make me uncomfortable,” I admit with much reluctance. “But you don’t frighten me.”

“That’s good to know. Scaring women isn’t my style.” He raises a brow. “You don’t have to sit all the way over there, you know…unless you’re scared I’ll bite?”

Ignoring his obvious effort to provoke me, I stretch out my arms and take up the back seat, legs crossed, while he sits across from the bar. My flowing rose gold skirt falls to my ankles, and though the halter top shows off a good amount of cleavage, it’s a modest ensemble.

“Jesus, you tempt the hell out of me, baby girl.”

The standoff continues as I hold his gaze, infusing some of that attitude he gets off of in the jut of my chin.

Amusement pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Remember that role I said I wanted you to play?”

“I remember.”

“You’re supposed to be playing my date tonight, Novalee.”

“I thought I was your date.”

“I need you to actually play the part, which means you need to get comfortable sitting in my lap.” He sets aside his half-empty glass and the bottle of vodka before patting his thighs.

“The last time I sat in your lap, you made a fool of me.”

“You loved every minute of it.”

I fold my arms. “What kind of party is this?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, how about we do a practice run?” There’s a challenge in his tone, a quiet dare, and I let a full minute pass, refusing to budge.

But he’s patient, allowing enough time for my natural curiosity to take flight. With an exaggerated sigh, I move to where he’s sitting and lower myself onto his lap, my body facing the bar. As I wind an arm around his neck, his cock hardens.

I feel my skin flush. “What now?”

“Pretend you like me.” He runs his nose up the side of my neck before turning my head.

Our eyes lock, making my traitorous blood pump too hard in my veins. Why is my breathing suddenly shallow? Why is he having this effect on me? I can’t even blame intoxication this time. Much to my chagrin, there’s undeniable chemistry between us, and it sends me reeling.

“You’re supposed to distract him,” he says with a hard swallow. “Not me.”

“Who?”

“My friend.”

“Oh.” I nibble on my lip, thoughts scattering. “Why is that again?”

“It’s a game he and I play.” His gaze lowers to my mouth. “But right now, I’d rather play with you.”

The limo slows, and as we pass through the gates of a sprawling estate, I let out a breath of relief. “Looks like we’re here.”

Ford sighs as I move off his lap. “Playing hard to get only makes me want you more.”

“I’m not playing hard to get.”

His lips curve into a mischievous grin. “Saying it’s not a game to you is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. How do you expect a man to resist?”

“I don’t expect anything from you, Mr. Stryker, except for you to hold up your end of the bargain.” My tone is harsh, but my anger is self-directed for feeling any amount of attraction to him. The men in the Brotherhood have twisted me into a sexually confused pretzel.

“Don’t worry, my queen. You’ll get your weekend with Sebastian.”

The limo comes to a stop in front of a lit up Renaissance style estate the size of most government capitol buildings. The chauffeur opens the door, and Ford and I dart through the rain to the front entrance, where a doorman allows us entry. The interior is no less stunning than Zodiac Estate, with immaculate marble flooring, two-story columns, and a grand double staircase situated under a domed chandelier. The symmetry is breathtaking.

A line of guests passes through an archway on the left. Ford extends his arm, revealing a chivalrous side of his character I wouldn’t have guessed existed, and we follow the stream of people into a room with a cathedral ceiling. A massive stone fireplace sets the place aglow, while oversized windows offer an alluring view of the moonlit sea.

Most intriguing are the kidney-shaped tables positioned strategically around the room, their tops covered in black felt and mahogany trim.

“What’s going on here?” I ask as guests begin claiming the vacant seats.

Ford settles his palm on the small of my back. “It’s a private gambling shindig.”

“Is this even legal?”

Ford’s eyes twinkle. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I’m taking in the scene when a guy waves in our direction. He’s seated at a table on the far side of the humongous room, a brunette bombshell decorating his lap. As we approach, the dark-haired stranger rises from his seat and sets the woman on her feet. All evidence points to him being Ford’s so-called friend.

The man that my virginal presence is supposed to make jealous.

“Who’s your gorgeous date?” The man’s startling blue eyes linger on me like an obscene caress, a flirtatious grin creasing the edges.

“Novalee Van Buren,” Ford says. “I’d like to introduce you to Axel Ivermann.”

“So this is the queen everyone’s heard so much about.” The other man offers his hand, and when I slide my palm along his, he lifts it to his lips, brushing a lingering kiss there. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

“You as well,” I say, my proper upbringing rearing its ugly head, though inwardly, I cringe, finding the endearment inappropriate and condescending.

The woman next to him clears her throat, and Axel drapes an arm around her shoulders. “My apologies. This is Dedra. She just landed a modeling gig for some hotshot clothing designer.”

“Alejandro Von Jean.” She stares down her nose at me. “You might have heard of him.”

“I have. I’m a fan of his work.”

“Novalee is a designer herself,” Ford speaks up. “She’s debuting next month at the Fashion Festival in Los Angeles.”

Growing uncomfortable with the one-upmanship, I gesture at the table Axel and his date were seated at. “I take it you guys are playing tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Shall we sit?” I ask, hoping to get the evening moving along so we can end it that much faster.

Ford treats me to a smile full of debauchery that has no business coming to fruition among mixed company. Before I can protest, he grabs me around the waist.

“My lap is all yours.” He pulls me down with him as he throws a bundle of cash onto the table. “You’ll be my good luck charm.”

Axel smirks. “As if we need luck.”

Ford shoots him a warning look. “Don’t push it, Ax. I’m not up for the hassle tonight.”

Axel shrugs. “Just keeping it real.”

I have no idea what they’re talking about, but Dedra doesn’t seem bothered by their cryptic conversation. She lowers her lithe form onto Axel’s waiting thighs, and I file away my curiosity for later.

The table fills quickly, bets are placed, and the first round is dealt by a formally dressed dealer sporting a stoic expression.

I’m not familiar with gambling in general, but I know enough to know they’re playing blackjack. Ford explains the motions for hitting a hand or staying, and he has me tapping the table and waving off the dealer in no time.

And dang it. He wasn’t lying when he said it would be fun.

“How about a side bet?” Axel says after a solid hour of them bleeding the house dry.

“What do you have in mind?” Ford doubles down on a nine and a two. The dealer is showing a six—a card that favors the players. Sure enough, Ford is dealt a face card, giving him an unbeatable twenty-one.

Axel stays on nineteen, his date waving off the dealer. “We play until midnight. Whoever comes out with more money takes the win.”

The dealer reveals a nine hiding under his six, and I hold my breath as he places another card face-up on the table. It’s a seven, and the house goes bust.

“And the stakes?” Ford asks his friend as they both rake in more chips. They’ve been on a winning streak since the third hand.

“If you win, I’ll sell you the Bugatti.”

Ford is pulling a long drink from his beer when he almost chokes on it. “The yellow 110 GT?” He sets the micro brew down. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious when it comes to cars.”

“And if you win?”

Axel’s gaze lands on my chest. “I want her for the night.”

Disbelief roils in my gut, and I stiffen in Ford’s arms. He squeezes my side, as if telling me not to panic.

“You know she’s a virgin and has to stay that way.”

“I’m aware. There are other ways of fucking a woman, as I’m sure you boys in the Brotherhood have already discovered.”

“She’s not a goddamn bargaining chip.”

Axel raises a brow. “Isn’t she?”

“Dude, she’s off-limits to you.”

And that’s when I relax into Ford, realizing that this is the reason he wanted me to accompany him tonight. Despite the cards and chips on the table, the real game is an unspoken one, and Ford had the winning hand from the moment he walked in with me on his arm.

Axel gives a carefree shrug, but there’s a tightness to his mouth that wasn’t there before. The gambling commences with an undercurrent of disquiet, their talk of a failed side bet taking the fun out of the game. Another hour passes before Ford calls it quits.

“Afterparty at my place?” Axel asks as he and his date stand.

Pulling me against his side, Ford shakes his head. “Maybe some other time. I’m eager to get the queen out of this dress.”

“Excuse me?” I turn wide and angry eyes on Ford. “I don’t know what you think—”

He interrupts me with a finger to my lips. “No need to put up a fight, baby girl. Your virtue is safe with me. I wouldn’t dream of taking you out of your role.” He smirks. “Just your dress.”

And that’s when I remember this is all for show. He isn’t actually going to get me naked when we return to Zodiac Estate…is he?

The four of us make our way around the busy tables toward the grand foyer, where a man in a tux cashes out chips. When he sees Ford and Axel, he frowns. “How much did you bleed me for this time?”

“Not as much as I could have.” Ford sets his winnings on the table.

“You’re lucky I like you, Stryker.”

“You only like me because I bring you a shitload of business.”

“Which is why I turn a blind eye to your talents.” He begins organizing the chips into neat stacks. “Who’s the pretty girl?” he asks without lifting his head.

“Novalee Van Buren.”

The man falters a beat before exchanging the poker chips for the correct amount of cash. “I dated your lady a few months ago. Nice girl, but things didn’t work out. Heard she married Landon Astor.”

My heart drops to the bottom of my gut, and cold fury tingles down my limbs. I tighten my grip on Ford, my knees threatening to give out. “You must be Jerome.” His name is acid on my tongue, nails on a chalkboard to my ears, but I have to know.

His only answer if a knowing twitch of his lips. “Please send her my well wishes.”

By the time Ford ushers me into the chilly night, my blood is spiked with too much adrenaline. I barely notice the drizzle on my skin. Ford and Axel say their goodbyes, and minutes later, we’re in the limo again, heading back to the tower.

“Are you okay?” Ford asks after several miles pass in silence.

“I didn’t know Jerome was hosting.”

Ford tilts his head. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”

“I don’t. Elise...she…um, she…dated him for a while.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

My breath stalls. “Why do you say that?”

“Jerome’s an asshole to the ladies.”

He’s more than an asshole, but I can’t tell Ford what the monster did to Elise without putting everything she’s built with Landon in jeopardy.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Ford says, steering my thoughts away from Jerome and how he’s free as a bird while Elise has to live with what he did for the rest of her life.

“Thank you for not using me as a bargaining chip.”

“Axel was bluffing with that bet.”

“He sounded serious to me.”

“He wasn’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

Ford shrugs. “He knew I’d out-gamble him, and there’s no way he’s giving up that car.”

“But it’s called gambling for a reason. Why would he assume you’d come out ahead?”

“Because I’ve always been better at counting cards, and I’m not as conservative on placing bets.”

I blink. “You were counting cards?”

“Yep, and your presence did what I knew it would. He was distracted, or he wouldn’t have thrown his prized Bugatti in my face.”

“The surprises never end with you, do they?”

“I try to keep people on their toes.” Slowly, he drags his heated gaze down my chest. “I meant to tell you earlier how much I love that dress on you.”

“You’re not really going to get me out of it, are you?”

“Do you want me to?”

“N-no.” What’s wrong with me? Why am I suddenly hot and shaky and stuttering weak denials?

He must pick up on the imposter taking over my body, because a second later, he’s on his knees in front of me, his steady hands working their way under my skirt and up my thighs. He wedges my legs apart but stops short of touching my pussy.

“Tell me to make you come, and I will, Novalee.”

“I shouldn’t want it.”

“But you do. Don’t deny yourself. There’s no room for shame or guilt here.”

“I’m in love with him.”

“He’s not here right now. I am, and there’s no shame in taking care of your needs, just like the rest of us.”

“He’s not touching other women.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that, Ford. Letting this happen…” I shake my head. “It isn’t fair to him.”

“Maybe it’s not about fairness, right versus wrong, or loyalty. Maybe it’s about what every atom of your body is telling you right now. Stop giving and start taking. You’ve earned it.”

“I…I can’t.”

He pulls away, disappointment straining his features, but my traitorous whimper brings him back. “If you won’t let me do it, then get yourself off. You need this.” He squeezes my thighs. “You’re wound so tight you’re about to break.”

“I’m strong enough not to.” Pulling myself together, I inch away from the promise of his hands and the pleasure they can give me. The tempting escape they offer. “Everything I’m feeling right now is for him. I’m sorry.”

With a sheepish grin, he returns to his seat across from the minibar. “I understand. I hope you’ll forgive me for trying.” He pours himself another drink, and I wonder how his liver will survive if he keeps drinking it into early retirement.

He lifts his glass in a toast. “To you and Sebastian. May you have plenty of orgasms during your special weekend.”

A sad smile creeps across my face. Despite his friends, the endless women, the generous bank account, and the free-flowing booze, Ford Stryker seems like a lonely soul too busy outrunning life’s expectations to find his true potential in the world.

11

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” Ford stands in the doorway of my studio, his hands in his pockets as a wide grin animates his features. I glance at the clock and realize it’s almost five. I sent my team home hours ago because I couldn’t concentrate with the excitement over this weekend coursing through me, and I didn’t want to look like a lovesick fool in front of them. And yet, somehow, I got immersed in work.

“I can’t believe I lost track of time.” I jump up from my work table, the sketch I was working on instantly forgotten. “And what surprise? I need to pack for the weekend still.” In a frantic hurry, I put away fabric samples, clean up odds and ends that fell to the floor during the busy workday, and tidy workstations. Ford lingers in the doorway the whole time, watching with that easy-going smile of his.

“Leave it, Novalee. The mess isn’t going anywhere, but you are.”

“Wait…what?”

He gestures toward the hall. “We’re going for a ride before you head up to Sebastian’s floor.”

“Why?”

“Like I said. It’s a surprise.”

I’m not sure I like his surprises, but the longer I stand here arguing with him, the longer it’ll take me to get to Sebastian. I’m kicking myself for not paying more attention to the clock.

“You promise you’ll have me back in time?”

“Yes.”

As I lock up my studio, I study the profile of his handsome face. “Let me guess…you won’t tell me where we’re going, will you?”

“Nope.”

“Not a gambling shindig, I’m guessing.”

“Not enough time.” He wiggles his brows. “Unless you want to blow off lover boy to be my date?”

I laugh. “Not a chance.”

“Didn’t think so. A guy can hope though, right?”

Ford’s penchant for flirting is as commonplace to me now as the monthly exchange. It’s a constant part of my life, at least until I leave his house in a few days. I can’t deny that I’ve warmed up to his dirty-minded humor and harmless innuendos.

Some days, I dare to call him a friend.

He takes my arm, and we navigate the halls before he ushers me into the frigid November air. The sky is dark and gray as night sets in, and Ford’s driver waits in the drizzle next to the same limo we took to the party.

“I’ve only got two hours.”

“I know.” He holds up a blindfold. “Surprise first. You’ll see Sebastian soon enough.”

As he fastens the soft fabric around my head, hindering my eyesight, excited curiosity flutters in my belly.

“Take my hand.” His voice is soft and deep, his grip firm as he leads me across the wet pavement to the waiting vehicle. Soon, we’re in the backseat, and he keeps my hand in his as the driver takes us to Ford’s secret destination.

“You won’t even give me a hint?”

“My lips are sealed, baby girl.”

I’m not sure how much time passes, but eventually we slow, my body leaning into his as the vehicle turns and heads into what feels like a downgrade. Ford exhales, and something about that sad sigh pulls at my heartstrings.

“Can you do something for me before I take off the blindfold?”

“Depends on what it is.”

He turns my head toward the sound of his voice, thumb a light caress across my lips. “Kiss me.”

My heart skips a beat, and instead of answering, I lift my chin. The next moments slip past in suspended uncertainty. A subtle yearning to taste him threatens to send me into the land of guilt and regret, but I fight it.

It’s just a kiss—as innocent and pure as the unlikely friendship budding between us.

In the next instant, his lips press against mine, soft and warm and insistent as he darts his tongue into my mouth. Swallowing a small whimper, I welcome his exploration, unable to do anything but surrender.

Because his head-spinning kiss…it feels so final.

He pulls away before I expect him to. “Thank you for giving me one of the best months of my life.” His voice is thick, breaths hitting my lips too fast. “If I believed in the institution of marriage, I’d want it to be with you.”

I open my mouth and search for the words to convey my confusion over this entire interlude, but he removes the blindfold before I can respond. Blinking his face into focus, I notice the affection in his hazel eyes first, and the meaning behind that stare claims the small piece of my heart I hadn’t realized was vacant until now. My attention shifts, our surroundings slowly penetrating my awareness.

The crash of waves on the nearby beach.

The narrow tree-lined drive.

The storybook house with the familiar gabled roof.

“Oh my God.”

The chauffeur opens the door, and Ford nods toward the cottage. “Sebastian’s waiting for you.”

I gape at him, struggling for words. Struggling not to cry. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You deserve to be happy, and from what I hear, this place makes you happy. He makes you happy.”

Overcome, I embrace him. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he says, voice strangled. “I’ll be back Sunday morning to pick you up for the exchange.”

I don’t want to think about the next month, the next man, the next burden of blind discovery that comes with the introduction of a new house. For the next thirty-six hours or so, I refuse to think of the future at all.

“You’re a good guy, Ford Stryker,” I whisper, placing a kiss on his cheek. “This means more to me than you’ll ever know.” With that, I slide from the limo and make my way toward the cottage.

The door is unlocked, and after I let myself inside, the familiar dark interior greets me, lit only by the glow of candlelight and burning logs in the fireplace. I stall in the foyer, and I’m taken back to the month of Leo—as if I’m not shivering, hair damp from the autumn rain. It’s a vivid sense of déjà vu, and so real that I almost expect summer to exist on the other side of the door.

The heat of the sun on my skin.

The sweet scent of foliage in the air.

The discovery of love and laughter.

As I step into the living room, I sense him behind me before the weight of his touch glides down my arms. He tugs me against him by the hips. Desire flares, shuddering through me with the force of a summer storm.

“I need you,” I say in a breathless whisper.

With a low growl, he cups my breasts. “You’ve got me.” His lips land on the sensitive spot below my ear, tongue hot and wet and hungry on my skin.

He shuffles us toward the sofa—the closest place where two people can get horizontal. We fall onto the cushions in a tangle of limbs, and desperation drives him as he pushes my dress out of the way. He shoves a hand down the front of my panties, finding me slick and ready.

“So fucking wet.” As his fingers dip inside me, he watches me with hooded eyes, the glow from the candlelight dancing across his features. “Feels like forever since I’ve touched you like this.”

“Sebastian.” His name is a breathless cry as my chest heaves against his.

“I know, princess.” His forehead lowers to mine, and I spread wider to accept him as he thrusts those fingers deeper. He strokes me with the perfect rhythm, the perfect depth.

About to burst at the seams, I hold his cheeks, urging him back an inch until our eyes meet. For several minutes, we say nothing. Do nothing except feel. It overwhelms me, the bond between us, the connection. Unfettered emotion stings my eyes.

His brows furrow. “Don’t cry.” He starts to withdraw, but I arch into him, my body chasing his hand.

“Don’t stop.”

“Why are you crying?”

“Because it feels so good.”

“Then take what you need from me. It’s all yours.”

“Kiss me.” I reach for his mouth, my lips parting to invite the conquer of his tongue, the taste of delirium, the intimacy only he has the power to give me. His steady licks match the tempo of his fingers, and I moan with each slide of those digits.

He breaks the kiss, and his ocean eyes search my face. “I need to watch you come apart, but Jesus,” he groans. “You’re sweet on my lips.” The battle is lost, and he comes back for more, one hand tangled in my hair, his mouth devouring mine as he pumps his fingers between my thighs. Determination infuses his quickening strokes, white hot need searing the air. It throbs between us, constricting the oxygen in the air.

I contract around his fingers, and my horse cries fill the room.

“Goddamn, princess. That’s my girl. Come all over my hand.”

The release is indescribable, intensified by our time apart. But it’s still not enough. It’ll never be enough as long as he feels this good against me. Spurred on by the rush of endorphins and the frenzied-state of my mind, I shove him to his back and crawl over his sprawled body.

One long leg hangs off the sofa cushions as he stares at me with wide eyes. He’s wearing dark gray sweatpants, no shirt, and I tug down the elastic waistband, thankful for easy access. His huge cock calls to my mouth, the tip leaking his excitement all over his toned abs.

I lick my lips.

“Fuck, Novalee. That mouth will be the death of me.”

“But what a way to go.” Locking my gaze with his, I inch my lips down his shaft, my head going into a tailspin as his unique essence hits my tastebuds. He tucks that tempting bottom lip between his teeth, and urgent fingers thread through my hair as he watches my mouth suck the sanity right out of him.

“Deeper.” The frantic thrust of his hips brings him to the back of my throat. “God yes. Don’t stop,” he pleads, groaning. “Just like that.” His need takes over, and as he spews a string of curse words, he holds me immobile, his mushroom tip pumping between my tonsils.

Closing my eyes, I take it all, my core pulsing at the sound of his throaty moans, the shuddering strength in his hands, the way he takes the power from me while surrendering his own.

And surrender, he does. I peek up in time to watch him arch his neck, lips spread over clenched teeth as he spurts his release down my throat. I’ve barely finished swallowing when he yanks me up by the hair to devour my mouth, and our passion burns hot enough to melt every snow peak on earth.

12

We spend Saturday curled up in front of the fire, kissing and cuddling and talking. He even listens to my voice drone on as I read from the latest shifter romance I found packed among my things in the overnight bag Ford snuck to Sebastian.

Ford certainly knows how to surprise a girl. So does Sebastian, because coming to the cottage was his idea. But despite the downtime, I can’t help but sense something simmering between us. Something secretive and unspoken.

Something we touched on at the ball but haven’t really worked through yet. As usual, time isn’t on our side, so as day turns to evening, and we stand side by side washing the dishes after dinner, I think about how to broach the issue.

“You’ve got something on your mind, princess.” It’s not a question. He dries his hands on a dish towel before sitting me down in a chair and crouching in front of me. “What’s going on?”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” he asks.

“Know me so well.”

He arches a brow. “Not only do you wear your feelings on your face, but I’ve been inside of you.” He cups my cheek. “They don’t call it becoming one body for nothing. I’m attuned to you now.”

“I think you’ve always been attuned to me.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t…want me like that last night.” After our frantic session on the sofa, he fed me dinner and held me all night in bed, but he didn’t initiate what I wanted more than anything.

To be one with him again.

He lowers his gaze to my knees. “I didn’t want to rush it.”

His admission digs under the ever-present insecurities that plague me, even when I think they’ve been vanquished.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out.

He raises his head, and there’s no mistaking the shock in his expression. “For what?”

“For being attracted to Liam…and to Ford.”

He lets out a breath. “Don’t apologize.”

“But I didn’t mean to betray you. It just h-happened.” A sob escapes, and I bury my face in the haven of my palms.

Sebastian grabs my hands, forcing me to look at him. “I’d rather you be a willing participant than the alternative. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.” He glances around the kitchen. “For weeks, I sat in this damn place alone, remembering every moment we spent together. Every sigh, every touch, every spark of life you lit inside me.” With a deep breath, he caresses my cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears there. “Finding you and Castle like that fucking hurt. I was pissed and stubborn and clinging to anger to get me through it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know that.” He places a finger against my lips. “When you told me what Pax forced you to do, I saw red. It tore me to fucking pieces. So don’t apologize for finding pleasure during these months, because nothing you do will make me love you any less.”

His declaration only heightens my regret. “I wish I could take it all back.” Every stolen moment with Liam. Even the ones with Ford.

“We can’t change the past, Novalee.”

“I know, but I hate to think of my mistakes standing between us…of being the reason you’re keeping your distance.”

“There’s zero distance.” He picks me up and carries me to the bedroom before dumping me onto the bed. “I didn’t want to trigger any trauma for you. That’s the reason I didn’t take you anally last night.”

“I’m not scared to be with you like that. I want to feel you inside me again. I need it.”

I need it more than his forgiveness. More than the easement of my guilt. I need it more than my next breath. When we come together, he makes me feel whole, stronger than I thought possible. Being with him rights all the wrongs in my world.

He peels off his shirt, kicks out of his pants, and then he’s positioning me on the mattress, two strong hands shackling my ankles as he drags my ass to the edge of the bed. He strips me bare, in more ways than one, before dropping to his knees.

I’m already wet, primed to fly apart when his tongue works at my throbbing clit. Holding onto his head, fingers sinking into his thick dirty blond hair, I wrap my legs around his shoulders and let him bring me closer to climax.

He clutches my breasts, rough and reckless, and I sense the blind urgency growing in him, feel it in the growling vibrations on my clit, the way his breath quickens with every flick of his tongue.

“Now!” I push his head away. “I need you inside me. Get the lube.”

He’s a man on the brink, his chest heaving, eyes blazing, cock straining to find home. With a flick of his tongue across his bottom lip, he grabs a small bottle from the nightstand.

“If you need to stop,” he says, applying a generous amount of lube to his erection, “say the words.”

“I won’t.”

“You might change your mind if I take you the way I want to.”

“I want it all, Sebastian. The pleasure, the pain. All of you.”

As he pushes into my ass, his muscular arms propping up my legs, I reach for my clit, and he grins. “That’s my girl.”

He thrusts to the hilt, stretching me into an uncomfortable grimace, but instead of bearing down, I will my body to open for his intrusion, my slick fingers circling the throbbing bundle of nerves between my legs.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay.” I hold his tortured gaze, recognizing that he’s still holding back. “Take me how you need to. I can handle it.”

“Holy shit, princess.” He pumps in earnest, blond hair flopping over his forehead with each thrust of his hips. Our sweat-covered bodies become one in a messy, lust-induced symphony of moans and madness. The echoing slaps of flesh on flesh filter through the bedroom.

We’re in sync, complementing each other like lightning and thunder. Just as I feel the tight pull of completion spreading down my limbs and curling my toes, he jerks to a halt inside my ass. There’s nothing more exhilarating than sharing this moment—of experiencing the beauty of intimate unison with him.

Afterward, we crawl between the sheets and allow the fire to cool.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shake my head, snuggling deeper into his spooning embrace. “No. It was amazing.”

His lips trail a path of kisses across the slope of my shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

“We’re amazing together.”

“We sure are.”

Sleep pulls at us, though we awake in the middle of the night for round two. And maybe that’s why it takes several drowsy moments for the incessant pounding to penetrate our sanctuary.

“What’s going on?” As I sit up in bed, Sebastian’s already pulling on his pants.

“Someone’s here.” He tosses me my dress from yesterday before striding toward the source of what woke us. Scrambling into motion, I yank the dress over my head and catch up to him as he opens the front door.

The sun has barely risen, and I gape as my brother waltzes in, followed by Liam, Vance, Ford, Tatum, and a man whose name I can’t recall, but I believe he’s from the House of Aquarius.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my disbelieving gaze touching on each member of the Brotherhood—the half currently present, anyway. As Sebastian pulls me against his side, running a hand through his bedroom hair, Landon takes it upon himself to answer.

“No one can know about this meeting, Novalee.”

“I don’t understand. Is something wrong? Is Elise okay?” My voice gains an octave with each rapid-fire question.

“Elise is fine.” Landon folds his arms, the picture of authority and leadership, despite the chancellor owning that role, officially.

Sebastian’s words from a few weeks ago come back to me, as clear in my mind as when he first said them.

“Your brother is the puppet master in this.”

He all but admitted to keeping a secret.

Narrowing my eyes at Landon, I step away from Sebastian and cross my arms, matching my brother’s pose. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

“We’re here to discuss strategy.”

“Strategy for what?”

Taking the lead, Liam clears his throat. “We’re here to discuss how we’re going to rig the auction, my sweet girl.”

<<<<1 >1

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Libra (The Zodiac Queen #7) Read Online Gemma James http://www.ilovenovels.com/libra-the-zodiac-queen-7-read-online-gemma-james Sat, 03 Jul 2021 23:24:50 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/libra-the-zodiac-queen-7-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Libra (The Zodiac Queen #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Gemma James
Language:	English
Book Information:
Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. This is the seventh installment in Novalee's journey with the Zodiac Brotherhood. Full blurb to come! Release date is subject to change.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James

1

September 11th

A smooth voice calls my name, followed by a warm hand gripping my fingers. I urge my eyes open, but a heaviness weighs on my lids. Sinking deeper into the void, I cling to oblivion. There’s no pain here. No heartbreak or trauma. Only a blank canvas tempting me to draw a more appealing picture than the one waiting for me on the other side of consciousness.

Someone says my name again, and this time, insistence creeps into his tone as he gives my hand a quick squeeze.

“Open those beautiful eyes, my sweet girl.”

“Liam?” As rough as sandpaper, his name sneaks past my dry lips.

“I’m here.”

A peek through my shuttered lids reveals him crouched at my side. Concern lines his ragged face, and I search my memory for the cause, but nothing springs to mind. Why can’t I remember?

“What happened?”

“Everything’s okay,” he says, though his words do nothing to offer reassurance or an answer, and that’s when an incessant throb starts in my temples.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I groan, holding my head as my stomach roils.

As if he expected as much, Liam helps me sit up before holding a bowl under my chin. There isn’t much in my stomach to expel, and as I heave, the last few days invade my consciousness.

Days locked away with no food in the House of Virgo, and Liam carrying me out in his muscular arms. Then…Pax slumped on the floor in the dungeon, unconscious.

After the dry-heaves stop, Liam disposes of the bowl then pushes a cup of water into my hands. “Take it slow,” he says.

I swallow a few sips before a wave of dizziness hits, and I slump to the bed, too weak to remain upright. “You drugged me.” It’s not a question, and the guilt in his eyes affirms my accusation.

He dips his head. “I had to get you out of there.”

For the first time since opening my eyes, I let my attention wander around the small room. I’m on a narrow bed, and sitting across from me is another cot. Two oblong windows offer a backdrop for a seating area, the view beyond the glass a portrait of a perfect cerulean morning. Cabinetry takes up the wall next to the door. The space is compact, minimalist, and far from what I’m used to in the tower.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere in the Atlantic.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re on a cargo ship.”

Silence descends as we stare at each other, and I study his answer from every angle. I must have been out for the better part of the night—long enough for him to transport me onto a cargo ship. He didn’t just drug me. He kidnapped me.

I’m smuggled cargo.

“How did you get me out of the tower?”

“An escape tunnel.”

“And you just…what?” A wave of my hand encompasses the room. “Strolled on a ship with an unconscious woman?”

His lips twitch. “It was a bit more complicated than that. I had some help.”

“Did Landon help you?”

Arching a brow, Liam settles onto the edge of the bed. “A crew member did. I set the guy’s family up for life, and he set me up with a way off the island.” He doesn’t press me on why I brought up Landon, and for that, I’m grateful because I’m in no condition to spin a believable fabrication. Instead, I steer the subject away from the tower of men we left behind.

“Where are you taking me?”

Five nervous beats of my heart pass before he speaks. “You should eat something.” He stands and puts three feet of distance between us. “I’ve got some crackers. Once you keep those down, we’ll get some substance into your stomach.”

“You’re not going to answer me?” Despite my foggy head and the deadweight in my bones, I force myself upright again.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

“I need to know where we’re going.” My voice rises an octave as my thoughts crystallize.

Liam drags a hand through his copper hair. “You just woke up, Novalee. I’ll tell you more when the time is right.”

Helplessness festers in my gut. “Why did you take me?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Yes. At first, I begged you to run away with me, and again during Mr. Bordeaux’s month, but you said you couldn’t walk away from your duty.”

Clenching his jaw, he allows a heavy moment to sneak by. “I couldn’t let you go to him.”

Him…as in Pax?

Or someone else?

“But leaving me with Mr. Bordeaux was okay?”

“None of this is okay.”

“Then why now?”

He gives a resigned shake of his head. “Because I’m selfish.”

“You took me because you’re selfish?”

“I took you because I’m in love with you, and I don’t want you to marry Sebastian.” His confession lands in the space between us, sending my heart to the pit of my stomach.

“What about the auction?”

He tilts his head, his troubled brown eyes locking with mine. “I think you already know the answer to that question. I’m not going to win.”

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Virgo (The Zodiac Queen #6) Read Online Gemma James http://www.ilovenovels.com/virgo-the-zodiac-queen-6-read-online-gemma-james Wed, 17 Feb 2021 09:50:09 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/virgo-the-zodiac-queen-6-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Romance Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Virgo (The Zodiac Queen #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Gemma James
Language:	English
Book Information:
Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. Miles Sinclair. The virgin of the Brotherhood. Designer of kinky tech. Believes patience is a virtue. The man is as disciplined as he is dominant. His house rules aren’t open to negotiation, and they involve a shared bed and zero clothing. Despite his need for control, I fight him at every turn. Because it’s time for me to take a stand in this tower of secrets and betrayals. But on a fateful summer day, temptation awaits in a gazebo—a chance encounter where air and fire collide—and a single moment of weakness engulfs my world in flames. Mr. Sinclair might believe in patience, but to him, forgiveness isn’t a virtue. Part 6 of The Zodiac Queen.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James

1

August 23rd

If I still believed in miracles and happy endings, I’d wish to rewind the month and go back to that day in the gazebo, when Sebastian surprised me with a different side of himself—a side he hadn’t revealed until the moment I became his.

God, he’d been romantic and sweet. Passionately possessive. A man on a mission to make up for past cruelties. A man on a mission to prove his love.

That was before.

This is after.

Just minutes ago, Lilith dropped her news on our happiness from out of nowhere, stealing our final moments together with a single utterance of truth. And the truth burns like napalm—like a horrendous dousing of acid that clings to my skin. Her confession, along with Sebastian’s lack of a denial in the face of it, haunts me after the door closes on her retreating back.

Neither of us move at first, our inaction allowing disquiet to reach a momentous crescendo. That’s when he looks at me, his face awash with apology.

“Novalee…”

“Don’t,” I say, blocking his attempt to touch me. I bolt into the sitting room, but suddenly, the House of Leo feels cramped and suffocating—all six-thousand square feet of it. This place is no longer my sanctuary. Sebastian’s home has turned into the domain of laden hearts and singed dreams, and yet…

I don’t want to be anywhere else.

He follows me and drops into a chair, and as his hands come up to hide his face, he’s the portrait of guilt. Those same muscular shoulders I held onto in the shower this morning now slump in a way that spears me to the heart with betrayal.

Dread simmers in my gut—a cauldron of despair threatening to boil over. My throat aches with unshed tears as I wander to the wall of windows and gaze at the dreary sky snuffing out the sea. Anything to stave off the incoming deluge.

Because I won’t cry. After everything I’ve been through within these circular walls, this will not destroy me.

“When were you going to tell me?” On the tail-end of that question, I realize I worded it wrong. I pivot to face him. “Were you going to tell me?”

With a sigh, he rubs both palms down his face. “Of course I was going to tell you.”

I cross my arms. “Really?”

“Yes!” As his harsh voice echoes, he tries to hide a wince.

“When?”

“Right before I saw you in Castle’s arms.” The implied accusation detonates in the space between us, and he stands, shirtless, his dark blond hair a mess from my fingers all morning. There’s nowhere for me to go when he comes for me, eyes narrowed and brows slashing downward over an icy blue gaze. His audacity to wield anger in this situation shouldn’t surprise me, and it shouldn’t put me on the defensive.

Not this time.

I hold my ground and meet the challenge in his gaze. “Well now I know, so what does she want from you?” My tone asks something else.

What does this mean for us?

Planting both hands on the glass behind me, he presses forward until my spine touches the chilly window. “She doesn’t want a ring and a white picket fence, if that’s what you’re asking.” He’s invading my space, derailing my runaway thoughts until a voice in the back of my mind points out that he’s crowding me on purpose.

To distract from the issue at hand? Or to deflect? I can’t be sure, since he’s good at both.

His eyes are molten ice, lowering to my lips a mere second before darting up again. We’re two stubborn pillars trading prideful stares. My mouth slackens as his lips part, and we share quick and shallow breaths—angry breaths with an undertow of desire.

The ever-present heat between us will never cool. Anger fuels it. Lust fuels it. The sun rising in the east and setting in the west fuels it. Our chemistry is an inevitability, a foregone conclusion before the first sentence of our story was ever written.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants,” he answers, breaking the tense standoff with a flick of his tongue along his bottom lip. “It won’t change a damn thing between you and me.”

Truer words have never been spoken, and yet there’s a contradictory strain in his voice.

I gear up to argue, but my vocal cords fail me, and that’s when he goes on the offensive, his lips silencing the mounting protest on my own. Before he slips his tongue past my defenses, I shove him back.

“You can’t just kiss this away.”

“I know,” he says softly, his anger losing strength. He sinks into a chair again like a hopeless brick on a journey to the bottom of the ocean.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Swallowing a piece of my pride, I settle into the seat across from him.

“I already told you—”

“I know what you said,” I interrupt. “Elise and Landon’s wedding was over a week ago. You’ve known all this time.” I pause, allowing a laborious beat to pass. “And time isn’t on our side.”

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Leo Read online Gemma James (The Zodiac Queen #5) http://www.ilovenovels.com/leo-5-read-online-gemma-james Sat, 01 Aug 2020 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/leo-5-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Dark, Romance Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Leo (The Zodiac Queen #5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Gemma James
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B084VFXSVT
Book Information:
Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. Sebastian Stone is a collision of passion and thorns. He shares a side of himself that few people witness. Hot-headed one minute, and sweet and tender the next—we mix like fire and air, igniting a chemical explosion that consumes us both. But our foundation shakes under distrust and insecurities, because tragedies have visited us in the past, making for wary hearts. Yet the lion holds mine in his possessive grasp, refusing to give an inch. Sebastian demands all of me, even though Liam Castle says he doesn’t deserve it. As the consequences of past mistakes intrude into the House of Leo, part of me fears the chancellor is right.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James

Chapter One

July 23rd

Click, click, click.

Like the tempo of my red-sole pumps on the marble floor, my heart races to the same quick beat. Nerves have taken over my hands, leaving the palms sweaty. Too much adrenaline floods my veins. I’m worried I’m about to get sick, but I’m not sure if the roiling in my belly stems from the anal plug Vance inserted—a constant presence that borders on discomfort—or from the reality of who is waiting for me behind the heavy library door.

I run my tongue over my bottom lip before grabbing the handle, but I stall. Impossibly, my heart seems to pump blood double-time. Why am I so nervous? Sebastian is no stranger. He’s touched me in ways no man ever has, save for one. But even the chancellor failed to do what the lion accomplished.

Because Sebastian made me crazy in the head over him, and I’m not sure how to feel about spending an entire month under his rule. I won’t be under the protection of the House of Gemini this time, with two floors and a slew of obstacles providing a buffer. I’ll be in his house.

In his bed.

My ass is literally his now, and no amount of delaying will make the next few minutes easier to face. With a hard swallow, I turn the handle and push the door open. I can’t help but hold my breath—as if I expect him to pounce the instant he sees me.

But the library is silent and still, the clock reading fifteen past noon, and Sebastian is nowhere in sight. I close the door before settling into a leather-bound chair, all the while fighting the urge to squirm from the full sensation of the butt plug. The detour to the doctor’s exam room is the reason I’m late.

But why is Sebastian?

Unsure of what to do next, I wait, my fingers tapping the arm of the chair, legs crossed and foot swinging to a soundless beat as I watch the hands on the clock tick by in sadistic glee. Ten minutes later, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. Disappointment slashes through my chest. I don’t know what I expected from him.

Moody anger.

Cocky seduction.

Tender vulnerability.

What I didn’t expect was for him to be a no-show.

Unable to sit still any longer, I wander around the library and mentally scroll through my options. I can check his studio to see if he got held up with a client, but as soon as the thought enters my head, I discard it. The chance that he’s painting the portrait of a gorgeous woman is high, and I can’t stand another awkward confrontation like the first time I spied him working. I consider taking the elevator to his floor to see if he lost track of time, but my last two unannounced visits to the House of Leo didn’t go well.

I’m about to take a seat again, prepared to settle in for who knows how long, when I spot a slip of paper sitting on the executive desk. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about that inconspicuous note, except that my name is on it. As I pick up the piece of paper, a cocktail of nervous anticipation burns through my stomach.

Meet me in the gazebo.

He signed it with his initials.

My lips curve into a smile. He didn’t lose track of time or blow me off for a client. Mr. Sexy As Sin has something up his sleeve.

I leave the circular walls of the Zodiac Estate on jittery limbs and head toward the gazebo. It’s in the opposite direction of the sea, at the back of the elaborate gardens. Following the path beyond the French doors that open into the ballroom, I eye the six-foot hedges cordoning off the gardens. There’s something intimidating about those walls of greenery, an unsettling sense of isolation after one ventures to the other side. For that reason, I’ve only explored the area once, preferring the openness of the cliffs.

But now I grab hold of my courage and take the path less traveled. The gardens are as breathtaking as the sea, with their winding pathways made of stone and bright plant life inviting people to linger the day away during the warmer months.

In the distance, I spot the gazebo. Each footfall takes me closer, causing my pulse to jackhammer as I approach the white stone pillars that make up the structure. It’s massive in design, an opulent space of seclusion in the thickening of elm trees. I climb the marble staircase, gaze roaming left and right in search of Sebastian. My heart drops, and just when I think he sent me on a wild goose chase, he steps out from behind a pillar by the entrance.

His presence hits me harder than his absence did in the library, and I teeter on the last step as our eyes meet.

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Cancer Read online Gemma James (The Zodiac Queen #4) http://www.ilovenovels.com/cancer-4-read-online-gemma-james Sat, 01 Feb 2020 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/cancer-4-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Cancer (The Zodiac Queen #4)
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Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B084VCV8FS
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Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. Three teaspoons. Two men. One choice. That’s what awaits me in the House of Cancer. Vance Morgan’s gift is unexpected—an evening spent with any member of the Brotherhood I choose. My heart gives me two options. My body wants the lion. But my mind wants the truth. And those three teaspoons I mentioned? They contain an elixir that lowers inhibitions. With my judgement compromised, mistakes are bound to be made. I hope one of them isn’t trusting the wrong man.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James

Chapter One

June 21st

Detached, apart from one’s self, separated from existence. I never fully understood what that felt like until now. Activity whirs around me as I sit with the Zodiac Brotherhood at the large circular table. The gaudy chandelier sparkles above, giving off ambient lighting. Servants take away appetizer plates and replace them with the next gourmet course, forks scrape against fine china, and wine glasses rise to achingly beautiful lips.

Every man present at this farce of a welcome dinner is handsome; some regal, some understated, others roguishly sexy. It isn’t fair how sadism and corruption taints such beauty. And it’s unfair that not one of them seems to notice how I’m only here in the physical sense, my mind caught in a zephyr of fog as the edges blacken. The plate in front of me blurs. Voices grow faint. The last three months flicker through my consciousness, and I watch the memories like scenes from a movie.

My first experience on my knees for the chancellor. The game of chess and the way he made me beg for him after I lost. The heat in his eyes as he brought me to orgasm for the first time. The sadness in those gorgeous brown depths when we had to say goodbye.

I don’t want to think about what comes next, but the memories infiltrate before I can cast them into the muck of my mind. Mr. Bordeaux and his rules. My unexpected friendship with Loren. The degrading punishments.

My lashes flutter, scattering the recollections and bringing me back to the here and now. There’s no question that those months changed me, destroying the veil of innocence that protected the childish girl I used to be. Surviving such a soul-altering fate should prepare me for anything.

It didn’t.

Because my time in the House of Gemini didn’t just shatter me—it shattered the foundation of my entire life, and I’m still trying to glue the pieces back together despite it being another month and another zodiac sign.

Another dinner.

The men of the Brotherhood appear unchanged. Outwardly, I do as well, but my stomach is in knots, trust shifting as the truth I learned three days ago breaks through the barriers of deceit.

Liam sits in his usual chair, the first slice of the zodiac. The ram is rigid in his role as leader, and he wears the responsibility and obligation as well as the expensive coal suits he favors. There’s a familiar warmth in his eyes, offering comfort and reassurance, but my heart doesn’t respond with the normal dance his presence usually inspires.

The unfazed Heath Bordeaux takes the space next to the chancellor. If anyone on this side of the table remains unchanged in recent weeks, it’s the peddler of precious gemstones.

My gaze drifts to Landon Astor, the man I still have a hard time thinking of as my brother. Elise sits by his side, a diamond on her slender left hand. The stone isn’t as large as the one on my finger, but knowing Elise the way I do, my brother chose the perfect token of his love for her.

From the corner of my eye, I spy Dr. Vance Morgan’s expectant gaze on me, and I force my attention on the words coming from his thin lips.

“Is the lamb not to your liking, my queen?” He nods toward the plate of food sitting untouched in front of me. “The chef can bring you something else, if you like.”

“No, it’s fine.” I offer him an uneasy smile before taking a bite.

My taste buds aren’t the problem—the warning Landon gave me three days ago is. He believes Liam’s father was behind my parents’ plane crash, and if that isn’t bad enough, he thinks the Castles want me dead after the auction concludes.

The warning won’t stop looping in my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind with an ominous echo. I lift my chin and find Liam’s brown eyes on me once more. A bolt of awareness courses through me, and I have to remind myself that he’s a man I can no longer trust.

And even if I didn’t have my doubts about the chancellor, Landon ordered me to stay away from him anyway.

But I don’t know if I can let it go.

The rest of dinner passes in quiet chatter. Elise answers Liam’s questions about the wedding next month. When she mentions that I’m designing her gown, Liam’s gaze veers to me again. He’s been glancing my way every chance he gets, as if he senses the internal battle inside my heart.

I try to picture him conspiring to take everything from me, proclaiming his affection and protection one moment while planning my downfall the next. No matter the truth in my brother’s confession, or the certainty in my father’s words from beyond the grave—written by his own hand a week before he died—the core of my being doesn’t believe Liam is capable of conspiring to have me killed so my uncle can take the throne.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >27

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Gemini Read online Gemma James (The Zodiac Queen #3) http://www.ilovenovels.com/gemini-3-read-online-gemma-james Thu, 31 Jan 2019 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/gemini-3-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Suspense Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. Three men. Too many betrayals. A multitude of secrets. They circle me like the walls in this tower. Because Landon Astor isn’t who I thought he was. My history entwines with his in ways I don’t want to believe are true. And speaking of histories…Sebastian’s past struts in sporting a pair of stilettos and an attitude to match the lion’s ego. But discovering the truth about Liam is the harshest blow. He was my safe haven in this madness–the one man I thought I could trust the most. Now I’m in a free-fall with no one to catch me. Because if the three men I thought I knew best are capable of turning my world upside down, I don’t want to know what the other nine men in the Zodiac Brotherhood have in store for me.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James Books

Chapter One

May 21st

We have a lot to talk about, my queen.

As Landon’s words reverberate through my head, I trace the familiar inscribed letters on the journal. My fingers move in a hypnotic way as the breath stalls in my lungs. Because it’s one of my mother’s diaries, and even if he hadn’t told me it belonged to her, I’d recognize it by those initials written in elegant calligraphy.

“How did you get this?” My voice is sharp and brazen—the kind of tone that would earn me a session in the dungeon if I were still under the rule of Heath Bordeaux.

Landon glances at my lady. “Faye, will you give us a few minutes?” With a cooperative nod, she gets up to leave, and the fact that she’s not fighting him surprises me as much as the familiar way in which he addressed her.

After the door shuts upon her exit, he leans forward, hands clasped between his knees. “What do you know about your mother’s journals?”

An image of leather spines, sorted by color, comes to mind—a neat row kept dust-free on an oak shelf in her writing room. After she died, my uncle turned the space into storage.

“She had a collection. She was always writing between the pages. After the crash…” With a hard swallow, I pause. “My uncle boxed them up, but Faye’s mother gave them to me on my sixteenth birthday.”

“Did you read them?”

I shift, crossing my left ankle over my right. My mother was a romantic at heart, right until the day she died at my father’s side on that plane. She wrote everything from poems to artistic descriptions of the mundane hours that made up her days. Thinking of those journals renews my sorrow, and my eyes burn with it. No matter how much time passes, grief festers in my soul, a permanent scar waiting for the right trigger to peel away the scabs and uncover the hurt as if it burrowed there yesterday.

“I read every word she ever wrote.”

He points to the diary in my hands. “You didn’t read that one.”

“How can you be certain?”

“You’d know the truth if you had.”

“The truth?”

Rising to his feet, Landon wanders to the windows. Unlike last month, when the sun shone on the imposing form of Mr. Bordeaux, turning his midnight hair a bluish silver, cloud cover greets Landon on the other side of that glass. His faded black jeans and olive button-down shirt complement the tumultuous slate sky. Maybe it’s a fitting backdrop for whatever “truth” the man from the House of Gemini is about to impart.

A few seconds slip by before he turns to face me. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to put it out there. Your mother and my father had an affair nineteen years ago.”

His “truth” blasts through my consciousness, as abrupt and loud as a gunshot, and my heart beats with an irregular rhythm. I work my jaw, mouth gaping and shutting before falling open again. “I don’t believe you.”

My parents loved each other. They were happy and faithful and…and my mother wouldn’t have done this.

Not nineteen years ago.

“It’s the truth, Novalee.”

The conviction in his voice shoots dread into my gut. “There must be some kind of mistake,” I say, smoothing my thumb over my mother’s initials on the cover, as if the action will smooth the ripples of turmoil bubbling inside me.

“There’s no mistake.” He nods at the leather-bound journal I’m clutching like a lifeline. “She wrote about it in detail.”

I toss the diary on the table as if it burned me. “Then it’s a forgery!”

“It’s not a forgery.” Reclaiming his seat, he softens his tone, and his emerald eyes bore into me, willing me to believe him. “Faye gave it to me when you arrived on the island. Her mother kept the journal hidden after your parents died.”

My eyes widen. “How long has Faye known about this?”

“As far as I’m aware, just a few months.”

Betrayal lingers on my tongue like a bitter pill I don’t want to swallow. “How could she not tell me?” The question is rhetorical, laden with stunned disbelief.

Landon answers anyway. “Her mother swore her to secrecy.”

“That’s no excuse! She’s my lady…my best friend since childhood. This doesn’t make any sense.” I narrow my eyes. “Why would she give the journal to you?”

“To ensure I don’t bid in the auction.”

I can’t breathe, can’t think…I don’t want to think. Because thinking means analyzing his explanation, rolling it around in my mind and coming to heartbreaking facts based on inference. It means admitting, even to myself, that what he’s saying might be true. The thought torpedoes through my mind, and I think back to the last two months.

Landon and his kind, secretive eyes.

The way he pushed back against Heath on my behalf at last month’s dinner.

And how he gave me an “out” at the medical examination and was the first to leave when given the choice.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >24

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Taurus Read online Gemma James (The Zodiac Queen #2) http://www.ilovenovels.com/taurus-2-read-online-gemma-james Wed, 17 Oct 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/taurus-2-read-online-gemma-james Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Romance Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Taurus (The Zodiac Queen #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Gemma James
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07YGXRV2D
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Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. Twelve diamonds. That’s the number of precious stones in my crown. And when I break one of Heath Bordeaux’s stringent rules, I lose one. Earning it back entails pain and degradation. No one can save me from his reign. Not even Liam Castle.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James Books

Chapter One

Present-day, April 21st

5,760 minutes.

96 hours.

Four days.

Roughly, that’s how long it’s been since Heath Bordeaux fit me for my crown. Those days snuck by in the blink of an eye, in the microseconds a bolt of lightning steals when striking the ground…in the time it takes to break a heart.

Leaving the haven of Liam Castle broke mine.

“He should be here with you,” Faye says as we approach the library on the first floor of the tower. Elise nods in agreement.

“He decided against it,” I say, doing my best not to chew my nails.

The chancellor’s absence is like a gushing wound in my chest. I’m devastated he chose not to escort me himself—leaving my ladies to do it—but I understand why he made the decision.

I think back to my last ten minutes with him, on the cusp of his penthouse door.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye,” I’d pleaded, tears stinging my eyes as his hands rose to frame my face. His thumbs had brushed along my cheekbones as if preparing to wipe the pain away between us.

“This isn’t goodbye, my sweet girl.”

“It feels a lot like goodbye, Chancellor.”

A melancholy smile quirked at the corners of his lips. “I know we’ve grown close enough this past month for you to be comfortable using my name.”

“The title just slipped out,” I’d lied, hoping he’d scold me, spank me, lock me up and keep me as punishment for my refusal to use his name. Anything but sending me out that door.

He’d raised a brow upon my feigned innocence. “If you’re begging for my hand as a delaying tactic, it won’t work. I won’t cause your tardiness for the inevitable.”

By the inevitable he meant the start of my prison sentence with Heath Bordeaux.

I couldn’t have argued with him even if I’d wanted to, because in the next instant he’d kissed me. It hadn’t tasted like goodbye. In the sweep of our tongues, I’d found quiet desperation. Sweet sorrow. A promise for so much more, whether it be eleven days or eleven months down the line.

“Go,” he’d rasped against my damp lips, forehead pressed to mine. His hand landed on the door handle, threatening to thrust me into the supervision of my ladies who waited on the other side of the barrier locking us in this private moment.

“Don’t make me go.”

The handle turned—an almost indiscernible click. “You have to. Don’t make this harder than it already is, Novalee.” His warm breath on my cheek, followed by the press of his lips, would have to sustain me until I saw him again.

I cling to the memory now as his maid stops in front of the massive doors of the library. “Are you ready?” Selma asks, and I think I spot a sorrowful hint in the pinch of her coral lips. She’s in full uniform, a no-nonsense bun holding her graying blond hair at the nape.

“Yes, I’m…ready.”

It’s a lie. I’m as ready for Heath Bordeaux as I was the day he fit me for my crown and revealed a taste of his unforgiving, obstinate nature.

Selma knocks three times. A deep male voice calls for us to come in, and Selma allows us entry into the room where it all began. It’s a light and airy space, despite the masculine bookcases that surround the comfortable seating arrangements inviting meetings among leaders.

And the passing-around of queens.

Heath Bordeaux is waiting by the south-facing windows. His back is to me, but I recognize him by his rigid stature. His black hair sheens silvery in the late morning rays pouring through the arched glass in front of him. A blond man I’ve never seen before stands at attention near him, his posture as rigid as the man who will have dominion over me for the next month.

Mr. Bordeaux turns, and those hazel eyes shoot ice through me. They’re beautiful eyes set in a traditionally handsome face, but something about him is…

Cold.

Vacant.

To make matters worse, he’s glaring at me.

“Your ladies may return to their quarters. You won’t need their services while you’re a guest in my house.”

His statement hits me like a sneak attack—a wave that rises from nowhere and knocks me down—and I drop to my knees.

“Please, Mr. Bordeaux. Don’t send my ladies away. I beg of you.”

They’re all I have in this place. The only two people keeping me sane.

“That isn’t for you to decide.” He nods toward his silent companion, who steps forward upon command. “My manservant will escort your ladies back to where they belong.”

Faye takes a brave step toward Mr. Bordeaux. “This isn’t right. I’m not—”

Cutting her off, I jump to my feet and hug her tight enough to silence her objection. Elise dabs at her eyes in my peripheral. “Shh, it’s okay,” I tell her in a whisper. “Go, please.”

Mr. Bordeaux is not Liam, with his gentle authority and quiet leniency. I don’t know who the man from the House of Taurus is, but he’s not someone you disobey or argue with, and it would wreck me to watch him punish Faye because of her loyalty to me.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >25

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Aries Read online Gemma James (The Zodiac Queen #1) http://www.ilovenovels.com/aries-1-read-online-gemma-james Sun, 22 Jul 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/aries-1-read-online-gemma-james Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Romance, Suspense Authors: Gemma James Series: The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
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Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Aries (The Zodiac Queen #1)
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Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. The first time I met the boys of the Zodiac Brotherhood, I was forced to my knees for the introduction. Still grieving the death of my parents, I was a child queen, a pawn in my uncle’s agenda for wealth and gain. As my guardian, he had the authority to arrange a marriage upon my eighteenth birthday. That meeting took place six years ago. Now those boys are powerful men. Twelve virile men that want to own me. And I must spend a month with each one. Bending and yielding to their desires and commands. Shedding pieces of my innocence so long as my virtue remains intact. Because they want a virgin queen after the last month concludes, and my uncle plans to auction me off to the highest bidder. Out of the twelve men, only one has my heart. And only one can claim my hand in marriage. If only it were up to me to decide.
Books in Series:	The Zodiac Queen Series by Gemma James
Books by Author:	Gemma James Books

Prologue

Crushing grief. It’s all I know. All I feel.

The ache slithers through my soul, weighing down my bones and slicing me into a distorted version of the girl I used to know. Now there’s just an apparition, a pale-faced creature whose flaxen braids belie a mature age of twelve. I hold my breath, afraid to breathe—as if the simple act of inhaling and exhaling will make this tragic reality real.

Each second crawls by in slow motion until my lungs burn for air. I suck in a soundless breath as movement surrounds me.

My uncle’s feet hitting the floor in lazy, unhurried steps.

The burden of a stranger’s gaze.

The dread that taints the air.

“You must be Novalee,” says the stranger with the unfamiliar shiny black shoes.

I don’t react to the statement, and Uncle Rowan’s brows slash into fierce lines of disproval. “Please excuse my niece’s reticent behavior. I’m afraid she hasn’t been herself since the plane crash.”

“It’s quite understandable. Such a sudden tragedy.”

They talk about me as if I’m not here. As if my shattered heart isn’t bleeding all over the rug my mother loved when she was alive. I focus on the pattern underneath the pillow that cushions my knees, following the kaleidoscope of browns and royal blues as I smooth my sweaty palms down the front of the dress Rowan made me wear.

White for purity, I heard him mutter when he thought I wasn’t listening.

He wanted me to look pretty for our guest, and even though I don’t understand why I’m required to kneel in this stranger’s presence, I don’t mind because it means I can pretend he’s not really here. I can be invisible like the heroines in my favorite fantasy books, cloaked by magic and imagination.

“Shall we get down to business?” asks the man standing next to my uncle. I give him a quick once-over. He’s tall and broad, and I’m fascinated with the way his coppery hair catches the sunlight spilling through the arched windows in the sitting room. I’ve never seen such a color on a man before.

“Of course.” My uncle gestures toward the archway leading into the study where my father spent most of his evenings. “Right this way, if you will.”

They leave me on my knees, and I hear him ask the man with the copper hair if he would like a drink. For the next several minutes, the clinking of glasses and low voices filter into the sitting room through the ajar door, and I catch words that make my stomach sour with dread.

Words like virginity and auction and marriage. I fist my hands against my thighs, wishing I could roam the grounds with the birds and butterflies, but I don’t dare move from my designated spot on my dead mother’s prized rug.

Rowan is a strict enforcer, and I don’t want to experience the stinging bite of his leather belt like Faye did yesterday for disobeying an order. Faye is my age and a daughter of a servant, but she’s always been like a sister to me. We grew up together inside these walls, playing hide-and-seek in the countless rooms and halls. Before my parents’ plane went down last week, we had free rein of the mansion and the surrounding grounds.

Until Uncle Rowan arrived and changed everything.

My parents have only been gone a week, both graves heavy and fragrant with fresh soil and sorrowful bouquets, but my uncle leaped into taking charge of our lands before the sun sank below the horizon on the day of the wake. I’m the daughter of a king, and now that my parents are gone, I’m the queen of a nation. A powerless child queen, because as my guardian, Rowan holds all the power.

“Why in God’s name are you kneeling?” someone asks from behind me, his insolent male tone disturbing my misery. “You’re not in the presence of the chancellor, princess.”

I tilt my head and catch a hint of wild blond hair in my periphery. “My uncle told me to kneel.”

“Do you always do what you’re told?”

My brows pull together. “Don’t you?”

“Much to my father’s aggravation, no. But your obedience is admirable.”

“Obedience was important to my parents.”

“Then I suppose you’ll be a perfect little wife someday.”

The disdain in his voice piques my interest, and I pivot on my knees to face him. His gaze meets mine, shooting a strange flutter of awareness through my chest. He appears to be in his teens, and just as I suspected, his dark blond hair surrounds his face in chaos, flopping over his forehead and threatening to hide his eyes.

And those sea-blue eyes are the reason for the sudden lack of air in my lungs. There’s something about his stare that sends me into a trance. He circles me, footsteps slow and deliberate, and it reminds me of the way a lion preys on a prospective meal.

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