When Ashton is left
orphaned after her parents are murdered, her life becomes a hell she could
never have imagined. Left to fend for herself, and responsible for a debt she
doesn’t owe, she is swept into a life as a gentleman’s escort at a private
men’s gaming hall. Her new manager makes it abundantly clear he doesn’t
appreciate her inexperience, innocence, and shyness. On the contrary, he
despises everything about her.
Derek can be “difficult,” she’s been told. And however dark
and handsome he may be, he terrifies her in a way that chills her to the bone,
but leaves her begging to understand him. As they are pulled along together,
more secrets and threats than either one could ever conceive are revealed, and
a common enemy emerges. This enemy will stop at nothing to bring Derek to his
knees while using Ashton as the greatest pawn in his torturous game.
Will Derek be able to let down his shield of cold, harsh
emotion before it’s too late? Will he be able to sacrifice himself to save
Ashton, or will they both be destroyed by the secrets of their pasts?
About the Author:
Elizabeth Finn is an
Iowa native, where she lives with her husband and son. By day, Elizabeth is a
Human Resources Specialist, but by night, she checks her professionalism at the
door and immerses herself in the world of writing erotic romance. Look for more
to come from Elizabeth Finn.
Excerpt:
Once in the fitting room, Derek takes the chair again while
I start to remove my clothes. I intentionally wore ugly, stretched-out, white
cotton underwear that is entirely too big on me in the event he should be here.
My mouth isn’t the only thing that can get me into trouble—my sarcasm knows no
bounds when I’m unhappy.
As he sees the appalling excuse for an undergarment, his
eyes move up to mine, narrowing darkly at my obvious defiance. I look coolly
back at him before looking away dismissively. My anger and resentment of him
from the humiliation he subjected me to the previous morning, not to mention
his treatment of me over the past two weeks, have charged me into a bold, fiery
bitch that no longer cares what retribution I might face. While my tongue usually
gets me in trouble, today I decided to let my underwear do the talking.
Jacob enters with an armful of dresses for me to try on, and
he cringes as he takes in my defiant granny panties, hated the world over by
men, including, apparently, gay men.
He turns to Derek, and with a scrunched-up face, he worries
out loud. “The dresses aren’t going to lay right over those…” He tosses a nod
in my general direction.
Derek wastes no time at all reassuring Jacob and striking
back at me. “No worries. Ashton was just taking them off. She won’t be wearing
underwear anymore.”
I glare defiantly back at him as I drop the loose fabric to
the floor. He returns the glare for a moment before letting his gaze travel
down my body to my sex, and as it lands there, smoldering with heat, I turn
abruptly from him, intentionally showing him my backside instead. I look to the
mirror in front of me, and I catch his eyes flit away from me in annoyance. He
worries his lip with his thumb and index finger as he contemplates, and the slightest
of smirks crosses over his mouth. Jacob is standing by looking from one to the
other of us, obviously wondering just exactly what he’s gotten himself in the
middle of.
Derek finally looks back to Jacob. “Get on with it.”
I try on one after the other of the dresses. Some are
perfect; Jacob pins in additional alterations in others. Derek sits by bored,
only glancing up from his cell phone occasionally. One such occasion is when
Jacob remarks that I’m “just not curvy enough for this one.”
Derek looks up to Jacob, but he shifts his eyes to mine
before commenting, “Yes, well, if you can figure out some way of making her
look female, you let me know.”
Jacob again lets his eyes pass between us, seeming to wonder
all the while what he’s missing. As I hold Derek’s eyes with my own, my anger
falters, and the pain that is behind my fury pushes through. I try to wrangle
my tears into submission, but it’s no use. In defeat, first one, and then
another spills from my eyes and slides down my cheeks. Jacob regards my state
and excuses himself from the room.
I stand on the hemming block in the center of the room,
refusing to look at Derek. But he’s looking at me, and as my hurt continues to
work through my entire body, I let my tongue do what it does best. “Why do you
hate me so much?”
He says nothing, but stands and moves to me. Reaching around
behind me, he pulls the zipper of the dress down, and then, returning his hands
to my shoulders, he pulls the straps down, exposing first my small breasts, and
then the rest of my naked body as it falls to the floor.
He leans in to my ear and speaks. “You don’t know anything
about me.” He then takes me by the hand and pulls me to stand in front of the
mirror, and leaning to my ear once more as I watch him in the mirror, he speaks
gently. “Lean forward and put your palms on the mirror.”
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