Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Mom—”
“Would it kill you to make an effort? Look at Margot.”
Margot, curled up on the sofa like a regal cat, grimaces.
Sorry, she mouths.
“What’s wrong with my outfit? It’s my day off.”
Mom heaves a sigh. “Nothing, dear. It’s just, maybe you should pick clothes that suit you a little better.”
Clothes that don’t make me look fat, she means.
My jaw drops, but before I can lay into her and tell her she has no right to attack my wardrobe or my body, the intercom buzzes again.
Seriously, what now?
“Can I come in? It’s Ethan,” a gruff male voice snarls over the speaker.
Holy shit!
Mom’s face immediately brightens. I’m praying she won’t remember him, but Margot’s presence alone is a reminder.
Also, Mom worships power, beauty, and wealth, and Ethan has the evil trifecta.
Lucky me.
I lunge for the intercom, but Mom beats me to the wall, buzzing him up.
Margot sends me a wide-eyed stare I know how to interpret: oh fuck.
Yep.
Oh, fuck.
And he’s about to walk right through my front door.
Mom sprints back to the kitchen and I think she grabs one of those kale monstrosities from the fridge.
I’m not sure because I’m running for the laundry, which has a couple pairs of my panties in full view. I barely manage to chuck it into the bedroom before Lucifer marches through the front door.
Tall. Coppery dark hair. Midnight blue eyes.
You never forget those eyes.
Cheekbones that are probably visible from outer space and a jaw so sharp it could engrave curse words on titanium.
Everything about him is hard, from the wall of granite posing as a chest to the mile-wide shoulders holding up a face set like an angry god.
His gaze settles on me, dark and so intense, my breath stalls.
Breathe, Hattie.
Can we not make this worse?
In my defense, he’s wearing a full suit that looks painted on, open at the throat, just enough to show off a hint of tanned skin. It’s the kind of healthy glow that’s rare here in Maine, the type you only get from jetting off regularly to warm, sunny places.
This man is atrociously handsome. And so far out of my league it feels like a cosmic prank.
Oh, and he’s scowling. Like always.
“I assume you didn’t know anything about this insane arrangement,” he says before I can utter a single word. “It’s damn ridiculous, and if you had anything to do with setting it up—”
My hands clench into fists.
My eyes are lasers.
I have a biting urge to throw the heaviest book I own at his stupidly attractive arrogant face. No matter how well dressed he is, he’s still a fire-breathing asshole.
“Of course I didn’t know! Are you serious?” I say tightly. “I didn’t know anything about it, and if I had, I would’ve begged Leonidas not to do this.”
Because it’s crazy.
“I had to make sure.” His brows draw together, but he gives a curt nod.
“Also, I don’t appreciate the implication that I somehow collaborated with your grandfather to spring this on you. Like who do you think I am?”
“She literally fainted, idiot,” Margot hisses from her place on the sofa. “That’s not what happens when someone’s plotting against you.”
“You’re still here?” He scowls at her and snorts.
“Yes. I’m supporting my friend like a functional human being.” Margot waves a hand at me. “What else do you expect me to do? Drown myself in cocktails? If that’s how you want to grieve, Ethan, fine, but count me out. We both know that’s a great way to get PopPop’s ghost to come back and kick your ass.”
“How about supporting your brother?” he rumbles like a thunderhead. “You know I don’t drink like that anymore.”
Anger simmers in his eyes, mingled with the tiniest hint of hurt that’s almost relatable.
Margot rolls her eyes.
“Sounds like you’re handling it just fine. Aren’t you hiring an army of estate lawyers to fight the will?”
“Not the will,” he says, folding his arms. “Just the marriage clause.”
“Makes sense,” I say, losing my mind a little. “Wouldn’t want to lose out on the big inheritance, right?”
He turns the full force of his glare on me.
I’m almost positive the ends of my hair curl up and shrivel under the heat. My skin tingles.
“Damn right.” Every syllable could cut glass. “In the event I’m unsuccessful, I’m prepared to pay you generously for a mind-numbingly simple job. Walk down the aisle, sign a few papers, keep your distance, and wait half a year for the divorce.”
He nods like this is a perfectly reasonable proposal.
Wow.
My jaw drops. I feel faint.
He said it so bluntly.
Like I don’t have a choice.
Like I’m the kind of timid mouse-girl who’ll accept a little cash in exchange for a sham marriage and go on my merry way like it never happened.
Typical Ethan.
He hasn’t changed a bit.
I blink at him and he stares back, blinking much slower. God, even his blinking feels arrogant with him, and it makes me want to throw a smaller book at his head.