Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I’m not sure when it happened or if it was all once or in tiny percentage points, but I’ve fallen in love with Dylan Sharpe past the point of return. He holds my heart, and I trust him to treat it as the precious commodity that it is because he knows all too well how fragile it is since he watched as it was so-recently shattered.
But it’s been repaired by my own hard work and Dylan’s intensive care.
“Are you having fun?” I ask him, thinking that I know the answer but wanting to hear it from him.
He nods, his smile easier than I’ve ever seen it. “More than I would’ve thought.”
“It's a pretty great party, right? Ami has been obsessively planning it for weeks.”
He stops us on the dance floor, moving us out of the way so people can pass by as they continue their path around the wood floor.
“Your friends are lovely, this place is amazing, but the only reason I’m having fun is because of you, Darling.”
Darling. My heart flutters.
He makes me beautiful. He makes me feel powerful. He makes me feel loved. He makes me feel like… his.
And I love it and him.
“Can we go home now? I’m ready to do a bit of celebrating of our own,” I purr, letting the need I feel for him weave through the words.
“What did you have in mind?” he teases, his own desire becoming evident between us.
I glance down and then drag my gaze back to his eyes. “I was thinking I’d start by kissing and licking something or another…”
“Be careful or we won’t make it home.” His voice is nothing more than a rumble.
A deliciously filthy thought pops to my mind, and I smile to myself. “You want me to be careful? Make me,” I taunt, knowing my eyes are flashing with heat and happiness. I whirl in place to give him my back. “I’m going to go find Ami and tell her goodbye.”
I feel like I got one over on him and am walking away the clear winner when I feel a short slap on my ass. I jerk my head, looking over my shoulder in shock to find Dylan staring at me. His face is charming, his handsome eyes narrowed with an arched brow. He’s in boss mode, and I can’t help the blush that heats my cheeks. “Make it quick, Miss Hill.”
I trap my bottom lip between my lips to keep my smile from growing too wide and nod before answering, “Yes, Sir.”
I’d love to say I came back with something witty or sexy. Instead, I virtually hop to do what he's commanded, nearly scurrying away to find my friend so I can enjoy the night with Dylan.
CHAPTER 26
DYLAN
“Ihave a request for you,” I tell the middle-aged blonde woman sitting across from me. We’re not at Lionfish. We’re at one of the numerous coffee bars and shops that fill the Upper East Side, a virtual world away from the Financial District. That’s on purpose, and my guest knows it.
Vanna Nicholson has been both the bane and the toast of the town for nearly thirty-five years. Originally one of the ‘society girls’, she was the previous generation’s little hellraiser. Starting when she was only a teenager, she ran wild. Parties, scandals, and more were everyday life for Vanna Nicholson, all fueled by her family’s billions.
She was the spoiled rich bitch plastered on every magazine two decades ago.
Guess that’s what happens when you’re the only daughter, your parents are divorced, and your older brothers have clearly whipped out their dicks to mark the family business as their territory. A lesson to her parents—maybe a quarter-million dollars a month is a bit much for an allowance.
All of that came crashing down after nearly a decade. Her family’s downfall dominated the pages for nearly a year, and afterward, Vanna found herself in a position she’d never dreamed. She needed a job. Thankfully, she had a gift for gab and lots of connections. She knew where the bodies were buried and which closets held which skeletons.
Hell, she’d helped put them there for so many influential men and women in this city. While her dirt may be scattered for all to see, she has the sordid details on everyone who is anyone in this city.
It’s turned her into an institution in town, and for a quarter-century, she’s been the society pages reporter, dishing out innuendo, scandal, and sometimes flat-out muck like it’s candy from her pocket. And of course, dear readers have been eating it up, both in print and online, the entire time because the only thing people love more than money is gossip. Especially given money is of no concern for Vanna’s targets.
“A request?” she lifts a perfectly plucked brow. “And what would that request be?” Vanna asks, stirring her skinny latte. Years of being a culture vulture have been oddly preserving on her. Her hair’s still the same shade of blonde it was thirty years ago, her face shows almost no wrinkles, and her outfits have only gone from over labeled to quiet luxury.