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But I don’t. Curiosity tickles my mind.
Just what kind of messed up guy is rich, wants to marry a stripper and needs Mr. Grayson’s help to do it? And why in the world would Mr. Grayson want me to strip so that this weirdo can propose to me?
No, not propose to. Proposition.
I pick up the face shot. My mouth opens at the absolute gorgeousness of the man.
He isn’t classically handsome, but he is…arresting. That’s the word. Thick, neatly cropped dark hair is somewhere between medium brown and black. His nose is a blade, straight and sharp, and smooth, lightly tanned skin stretches over the high forehead, finely carved cheekbones and strong, square jaw. His eyebrows are almost black, slightly arched in an arrogant line. The dark chocolate of his eyes makes me think of something warm and sweet, but there’s a hint of insolence in them that says I better watch it.
Why does a man who looks like this need to marry a stripper? And why me? I mean, I was all right back home, but this is Los Angeles. The city is full of these tall gorgeous women, and I’m about as unforgettable as a candy wrapper on the street.
Shaking my head, I walk over to the trash. In go the wrinkled paper napkins and empty paper cup…
I can’t seem to throw away the picture. My hand floats over the trash receptacle, but my fingers won’t let go.
Okay, fine. I’ll just throw it away at home. I tuck Mister Rich and Arresting into my wallet and walk out.
I don’t want to do this. Not at all. But Mr. Grayson’s flat voice made it clear there will be consequences if I don’t. There is no way I can survive here without his money, and going back to a homeless shelter is out of the question. The last time Nonny and I were there…
I shudder, then shake off the ugly memory. It was close, but nothing happened. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing ever does happen.
Stripping. It’s just taking off your clothes, right? There are bouncers and stuff to keep the patrons in check. I know how it is. I worked in a casino briefly, which is how I met Mr. Grayson.
The fact is, there’s no one I can turn to for help. I’m all on my own. So I’ll go with the flow…
…for now.
* * *
Elliot
I stifle a yawn as another stripper gyrates to the music.
You’re slumming.
No shit, Einstein. I’m not in the VIP area, am I?
Even though I told all my siblings I would marry a stripper for a year, I just can’t seem to make myself proposition one. But the bride search isn’t too bad. After all, I’m not at some stuffy debutante event or—god forbid—out on a date. A shudder runs through me. So not my style. I don’t do romance, I don’t date, and I don’t have the kind of sterling reputation that gets high society mamas to push their daughters my way.
What I do have is a sizable bank account. That’s it.
A strip club is the perfect venue for what I need. All the merchandise is on display, so there won’t be any surprises. A lot of the girls are stacked, although I cross off all the ones with plastic tits. I put a premium on tactile sensation. What’s the point of having a wife you don’t want to fuck?
The problem is that I can’t imagine fucking any of them for more than one night. If I’m going to marry, I’m going to make sure I stay faithful for the duration. Not because I care about the girl’s feelings—I don’t, not really—but because I don’t want my father to be able to use my infidelity to fuck with me and my siblings again.
I consider calling it a night. I’m not gonna find any wife material here.
Then the girl shows up on stage.
I don’t know what makes me look at her face. Usually I check out the girls’ bodies first—I’m not at the club to admire cheekbones. But with her, I can’t help it.
She’s young. Maybe twenty? She probably can’t even drink legally. Hell, she’s too young even to know how to do her makeup right. That shade of lipstick clashes with her flaming red hair. And the smoky thing she did with her eyes overwhelms the rest of her face.
But there is a shadow in the emerald depths that says she’s seen and experienced things that nobody her age should have, and I can’t seem to turn away. I want to take apart the puzzle, solve the mystery and satisfy my curiosity.
Not that I’d ever give in to such a messy impulse. That would be a one-way ticket to screwing up my life…which most people think is already a fucking mess. They can’t imagine that a guy like me, who taped his own sexcapade and put it up on YouTube, who parties wild and drinks like scotch is the elixir of eternal youth, could be orderly. But everything is carefully compartmentalized, neatly categorized and filed away, so my life doesn’t spiral down into chaos.
Shoving aside the urge, I drop my gaze to her body. And what a fine body it is. Smokin’ hot, short and compact with the kind of smooth, generous curves I’d love to trace with my hands and lips. Her tits are sweetly rounded and full, perfect for a man to lose himself in. And that ass… I can practically see myself grabbing a double-handful as I drive into her tight little cunt.
Damn.
Desire blazes through me, my dick swelling, and she hasn’t even started dancing yet. It’s not like me to want to screw a woman’s brains out at first sight. Clearly, I need to get laid soon. I’m not a romantic…or dumb enough to believe she’s one of a kind. All women—except of course my sainted half-sister Elizabeth—are pretty much alike.
The music starts. The other women move like snakes around their poles, and men watch them with lust smoldering in their eyes. I sit back, shifting to adjust my cock, and wait for her to bare it all, even as a part of me wishes she wouldn’t and that she’d just flee the damn scene.
Sadly, this girl is the worst stripper I’ve ever seen…and I’ve seen more than a few. At first she’s tense, which is understandable, but as the music goes on and swells to a climax…she doesn’t let go. Unbelievably stiff—she looks like she’d shatter if somebody tapped her on the shoulder.
What the hell was the manager thinking, hiring a girl like this? Doesn’t he audition the talent?
Maybe she was better one-on-one. Maybe she blew him. The latter idea pisses me off, but it really shouldn’t. Women have no problem falling to their knees and servicing a man if it’ll get them what they want. I should know.
I really should let her go home without a tip. That should tell her she has no talent for this kind of work.
But the unhappiness in her gaze says she knows she didn’t do well. And despite my less than sterling reputation, I’m not into kicking puppies.
When she comes close enough, I pull out two hundred-dollar bills and tuck them under her G-string, careful not to touch her skin. Her eyes widen, then instead of being grateful or offering to do me later on, fire erupts in their green depths.
So. She isn’t entirely dumb.
A mixture of amusement and new appreciation for the girl blossoms inside me. “You really ought to try something else. This isn’t your calling,” I say.
Her hands curl into fists; I hold her furious gaze, wondering if she’ll try to slap me. That would actually turn this unbearably dull night into something else.
I wait for her reaction, my body hot with anticipation.
Want to find out what happens to Elliot and the woman hired by the mysterious Mr. Grayson to marry him? Get your copy of An Improper Deal [US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia] now!
Titles by Nadia Lee
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——
The Billionaire’s Claim Duet
Book 1: Obsession
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Book 2: Redemption
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——
Sweet Darlings Inc. Series
Book 1: That Man Next Door
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Book 2: That Sexy Stranger
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lia
Book 3: That Wild Player
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——
Billionaires’ Brides of Convenience Series
Book 1: A Hollywood Deal
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Book 2: A Hollywood Bride
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Book 3: An Improper Deal
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Book 4: An Improper Bride
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Book 5: An Improper Ever After
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Book 6: An Unlikely Deal
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Book 7: An Unlikely Bride
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Book 8: A Final Deal
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——
The Pryce Family Series
Book 1: The Billionaire’s Counterfeit Girlfriend
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Book 2: The Billionaire’s Inconvenient Obsession
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Book 3: The Billionaire’s Secret Wife
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Book 4: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée
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Book 5: The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire
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Book 6: The Billionaire’s Holiday Bride
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——
Seduced by the Billionaire Series
Book 1: The Billionaire’s Revenge
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Book 2: The Billionaire’s Pursuit
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Book 3: The Billionaire’s Baby
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Book 3.5: The Millionaire’s Crush
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Book 4: The Billionaire’s Secret
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Book 5: The Billionaire’s Scandal
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——
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About Nadia Lee
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers.
Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.
To learn more about Nadia and her projects, please visit www.nadialee.net. To receive news about Nadia’s upcoming releases, sales and promotions, giveaways, exclusive epilogues, bonus scenes and more, join her VIP List at www.nadialee.net/vip!
A Hollywood Ever After
Copyright © 2018 by Hyun J Kyung
Kindle Edition
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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