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Blurb
Lucas Thorn wasn’t born a cheater. All it
took was a single moment—say, a certain disastrous incident on the night before
his wedding—and boom. Reputation destroyed forever and always. So now he owns
it. He has a lady friend for every night of the week (except Sundays—God’s day
and all), and his rules are simple: No commitments. No exceptions.
But a certain smart-mouthed, strawberry
blonde vixen is about to blow that all to hell.
Avery Black has never forgiven Lucas for
cheating on her sister. And suddenly being forced to work with him is pretty
much a nightmare on steroids. Of course, it does afford her the opportunity to
make his life as difficult as possible. But no good revenge scheme comes
without payback. Because he didn’t become the Lucas Thorn without learning a
few things about women.
Now Avery’s lust for vengeance has turned
into, well, lust. And if Lucas stops cheating, it’s definitely not because he’s
falling in love…
Excerpt
Shaking, I ran my hands through my hair
and was about ready to have a nervous breakdown when my phone rang.
“Yeah?” I grabbed my coat and headed out
of the restaurant.
“She’s a clinger.” That’s all Thatch had
to say before I burst out laughing. “She asked for my phone number.”
“How else is she supposed to have another
booty call with the good doctor?” I grinned like a smug bastard, enjoying his
panic, and then I warned him to stay away. “You know this is your fault, right?
You know that inviting a woman to your apartment usually means that she’ll
start envisioning her shit all over the place—and next thing you know, she’s
about to have your baby.”
“SHE’S NOT PREGNANT!” He started cursing
again. “Look, you know I have commitment issues.”
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “Shocker.”
“Like you should talk, you selfish
bastard.” Thatch sighed loudly. “Break up with her for me?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“But—”
“Nope.”
“Lucas Thorn.”
“Maybe if you had tits, and even then,
that just makes shit weird, Thatch.”
I hit the elevator button and waited
while Thatch started complaining about why sex can’t just be sex.
“You’re telling me.” I snorted into the
phone. “Look, I gotta go. Just remember Austin and Avery are best friends,
meaning, you screw her, her friend is most likely going to try to find a way to
screw me. Girls go to the bathroom together. If they do the nonserious stuff in
teams, you bet your ass they’re going to treat a breakup the same way.”
“That really wasn’t helpful, not at all,
Lucas.”
“Or”—I shrugged and hit the button for my
floor—“you could just make the sex really, really bad next time, say, finishing
in like thirty seconds and screaming ‘Porcupine!’ or something.”
He was quiet, then said, “I can’t decide
if that’s genius or stupid.”
“You never know until you try. Think of
Christopher Columbus. Everyone thought he was stupid for sailing toward the New
World, and look! He proved them wrong. The earth was in fact round, my friend.”
“Did you just compare yourself to someone
who discovered an actual continent? Because it seems like you did, and this is
after you told me to yell ‘Porcupine!’ when I orgasm.”
“Well, when you repeat it back like that
. . .” I grumbled as the elevator doors opened to my floor. “Look, I gotta go.
Leave me out of it though.”
“No promises,” he said just as I ended
the conversation and greedily searched for Avery.
She wasn’t behind her desk.
Nor was she under it—I had to check
because hiding and pouncing was exactly the kind of thing I could imagine her
doing, just so she could scare the shit out of me and get it on camera or
something. Then again, she wasn’t seventeen anymore, but this was still Avery
we were talking about. Ergo, I still looked.
Frowning, I turned around in an effort to
casually strut into my office and slammed right into Avery, knocking her
backward onto her ass.
Folders went everywhere.
Papers scattered across the floor.
And her wedged heels somehow managed to
fall from her feet, though they still dangled around her ankles.
“Are you okay?” I leaned down to grab her
hand, but she didn’t take mine.
“Yeah.” Her cheeks reddened. “Sorry, I
was just dropping off some files, and then I saw that these were addressed to
another department and thought I could drop them off and . . .” Her voice
trailed off as she flashed me a worried look, like I was going to fire her any
minute.
Instantly feeling like an ass, I grabbed
her by the waist and hoisted her into the air. “I’m not going to fire you.”
“Okay,” she huffed, tears welling in her
eyes.
“Shit, Avery.” Earlier I’d been taking
out my frustration with my family on her. Apparently, the distance and years
hadn’t changed this aspect of our relationship, because this was a familiar
pattern. I made her feel bad or guilty about something that wasn’t her
fault—something she had no control over.
Especially the fact that I was extremely
attracted to her—and knew it was wrong then, just like it was wrong now.
About the
Author:
Rachel Van
Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling
author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can
find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching
The Bachelor.
She keeps
her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She
loves to hear from readers!
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