Excerpt
Chapter
One
For someone
I'd known less than four hours, he sure was bossy.
"Pack
your stuff," he said. "We're leaving."
I stared up
at him. "We?"
His hair
was thick and blond, and his eyes were so blue, they made the ocean look dingy
in comparison. "Well you're not going alone," he said.
I struggled
for a reply and came up empty. Honestly, what was I supposed to say? The
guy in front of me wasn't just a new acquaintance. He was also Jack Ward
– my favorite author, a total hottie, and a billionaire several times over.
Unfortunately,
he was also just a little bit scary. Ask my roommate. He'll tell you –
well, unless he's already escaped through his bedroom window, that is.
I glanced
around the condo where I'd been living for the past two weeks. To say the
arrangement had gone to crap would be giving crap a bad name.
Turns out,
my roommate was a druggie and a dude. On top of that, he wasn't
terrific at keeping his horse in the barn, if you know what I mean.
Until just
five days ago, I'd never even met the guy, much less realized that
"Nicky" wasn't short for Nicole, but rather Nicholas. But in my own
defense, the gal who'd rented me the place had neglected to mention this little
detail, along with a whole bunch of other stuff – on purpose, no doubt.
And me?
Like a total sucker, I'd actually trusted her.
Now I
didn't know who to trust. I bit my lip. If only my sister were here.
Jack's
voice interrupted my thoughts. "If you need boxes, let me know. I'll have
some delivered."
I blinked.
It was nearly ten o'clock on a Sunday night. This was a small town. Nothing was
open. I shook my head. And was box delivery seriously a thing?
Not in
my world, it wasn't.
Then again, I wasn't a billionaire. In fact, my bank balance was
dangerously close to zero.
I just had
to ask, "Who'd do that?"
"Do
what?" Jack said.
"Deliver
boxes. I mean, nothing's open."
He gave me
a look. "Do you need them or not?"
"No,"
I admitted.
"Good,"
he said. "Then get packing."
I didn't
appreciate his tone. "Don't you think that's kind of bossy? I mean, I
never said for sure that I'm moving."
His jaw
tightened. "Well you're not staying here. I can tell you that."
Yup, he
was definitely bossy.
I wanted to argue. But I couldn’t. And why?
It was
because he was right.
I couldn't
stay. Not anymore. But I'd known that already.
Stalling
for time, I glanced around the condo. The place was surprisingly nice. It had
come pre-furnished, too, which meant that nearly nothing was mine.
Sure, I had
some clothes in the bedroom along with my notebook computer and a few
essentials. But the sad truth was, I could probably cram everything I owned
into my cheap compact car.
No boxes
needed.
Still, I shoved
a hand through my hair and tried to think. Leaving sounded easy enough, but
where would I go?
A hotel?
As if I had
the money.
My
sister's place?
That would've
been the plan, if only she were in town.
I was still
running through my options when Jack said, "Becka."
I jumped at
the sound of my name. "What?"
"You're
not packing."
"I
know, because I'm thinking."
"So do
both," he said.
I sighed.
On this, he was right, too. After all, it would take me at least a half-hour to
gather up my stuff. Surely by then, I'd know where I was going.
But for
now, I was simply going crazy.
Some of
this was Jack's fault. Not only had he just assaulted my scuzz-bucket of a
roommate, he was distracting the heck out of me.
Some people
go for movie stars. Or rock stars. Or hell, even reality TV stars. But me? I'd
had my nose crammed in one book or another for as long as I could recall. Some
of those books were better than others.
But seven
years ago at the ripe old age of seventeen, I'd fallen head-over-heels in love
– with his books, sprawling medieval tales that were beyond brutal, and
yet sometimes so beautiful they almost made me cry.
It was
totally insane. Jack was only a few years older than I was. In fact, he'd just
turned thirty-one last month. And how did I know this?
I'd read it
on the internet, of course.
Now, he was
glowering down at me like I was a bratty kid refusing to clean my room.
I wasn't
bratty. I was just confused.
Hell, I'd
been confused ever since showing up on my sister's doorstep four hours ago,
only to encounter someone who definitely didn't belong.
And that
was putting it mildly.
Author Bio
About LJ Shen
