Make Me (Broke and Beautiful #3)(69)

“And yet you require no proof to hold ill will against me,” he challenged with a lift of his brow. “You have damned me with the same swift judgment that you have elevated Whitelock to sainthood.”

What rubbish. “I did not set out to find the good in his lordship. The fact of his goodness came to me naturally, by way of his reputation. Even his servants cannot praise him enough. They are forever grateful for his benevolence. And I can find no fault in a man who would offer a position to a woman who’d been fired by her former employer and whose own father was taken to gaol.”

“Perhaps he wants your gratitude,” Lucan said, his tone edged with warning as he prowled nearer. “This entire series of events that has put you within his reach reeks of manipulation. You are too sensible to ignore how conveniently these circumstances have turned out in his favor.”

“Yet I suppose I’m meant to ignore the convenience in which you’ve abducted me?”

He laughed. The low, alluring sound had no place in the light of day. It belonged to the shadows that lurked in dark alcoves and to the secret desires that a woman of seven and twenty never dare reveal.

“It was damnably hard to get you here,” he said with such arrogance that she was assured her desires would remain secret forever. “You have no idea how much liquor Whitelock’s driver can hold. It took an age for him to pass out.”

Incredulous, she shook her head. “Are you blind to your own manipulations? It has not escaped my notice that you reacted without surprise to the news of my recent events. I can only assume that you are also aware of my father’s current predicament.”

“I have been to Fleet to see him.” Lucan’s expression lost all humor. “He has asked me to watch over you. So that is what I am doing.”

What a bold liar Lucan was—and looking her in the eye all the while, no less. “If that is true,” she scoffed, “you then interpreted his request as ‘Please, sir, abduct my daughter’? I find it more likely that he would have asked you to pay his debts to gain his freedom.”

“He declined my offer.”

She let out a laugh. “That is highly suspect. I do not think you are speaking a single word of truth.”

“You are putting your faith in the wrong man.” Something akin to irritation flashed in his gaze, like a warning shot. He took another step. “Perhaps those spectacles require new lenses. They certainly aren’t aiding your sight.”

“I wear these spectacles for reading, I’ll have you know. Otherwise, my vision is fine,” she countered, ignoring the heady static charge in the air between them. “I prefer to wear them instead of risking their misplacement.”

“You wear them like a shield of armor.”

The man irked her to no end. “Preposterous. I’ve no need for a shield of any sort. I cannot help it if you are intimidated by my spectacles and by my ability to see right through you.”

He stepped even closer. An unknown force, hot and barely leashed, crackled in the ever-shrinking space. She watched as he slid the blank parchment toward him before withdrawing the quill from the stand. Ignoring her, he dipped the end into the ink and wrote something on the page.

Undeterred, she continued her harangue. “Though you may doubt it, I can spot those snakes—as you like to refer to members of your own sex—quite easily. I can come to an understanding of a man’s character within moments of introduction. I am even able to anticipate”—Lucan handed the parchment to her. She accepted it and absently scanned the page—“his actions.”

Suddenly, she stopped and read it again. “As soon as you’ve finished reading this, I am going to kiss you.”

While she was still blinking at the words, Lucan claimed her mouth.





An Excerpt from





CHAOS




by Jamie Shaw

Jamie Shaw’s rock stars are back, and a girl from Shawn’s past has just joined the band. But will a month cooped up on a tour bus rekindle an old flame . . . or destroy the band as they know it?





“That was a hundred years ago, Kale!” I shout at my closed bedroom door as I wiggle into a pair of skintight jeans. I hop backward, backward, backward—until I’m nearly tripping over the combat boots lying in the middle of my childhood room.

“So why are you going to this audition?”

I barely manage to do a quick twist-and-turn to land on my bed instead of my ass, my furrowed brow directed at the ceiling as I finish yanking my pants up. “Because!”

Unsatisfied, Kale growls at me from the other side of my closed door. “Is it because you still like him?”

“I don’t even KNOW him!” I shout at a white swirl on the ceiling, kicking my legs out and fighting against the taut denim as I stride to my closed door. I grab the knob and throw it open. “And he probably doesn’t even remember me!”

Kale’s scowl is replaced by a big set of widening eyes as he takes in my outfit—tight, black, shredded-to-hell jeans paired with a loose black tank top that doesn’t do much to cover the lacy bra I’m wearing. The black fabric matches my wristbands and the parts of my hair that aren’t highlighted blue. I turn away from Kale to grab my boots.

“That is what you’re wearing?”