by Ashlee Price
Book Description
Surprise...
I went in for surgery and woke up married...to my doctor!
How did this happen to a rich playboy like me?
After all, I believe in lust, not love.
Maybe I can use this mistake to my advantage.
My generous donation to the hospital will help buy her the respect she craves from her stuck up bosses.
And a fake marriage is just what I need to get my family off my back.
A great idea until the unexpected happens...
We're drawn to each other like magnets.
I didn't expect to feel this way.
She's the complete package.
Gorgeous eyes. Stunning curves. Virgin lips.
But nah, I can't give in.
We have a simple agreement.
One year. Then divorce.
My perfect plan starts to fall apart when her controlling, desperate ex threatens her.
Screw that. In this world, I protect what's mine.
I'll protect Marian, the baby growing inside her and will destroy anyone who gets in the way of our happily-ever-after.
A Beautiful Mistake
A Surprise Marriage Romance
By Ashlee Price
Copyright
© Copyright 2019 by Ashlee Price - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Most Eligible Daddy (Sample)
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Prologue
Dustin
Six years earlier
"Another round of Old Fashioned for me and my gang, Rick." I slap another bill on the cold granite.
The stocky bartender takes the money as the small crowd around me erupts in a thunderous cheer. A few heads in the bar turn, including one with strawberry blonde curls several stools away. I send her a wink. The corners of her crimson lips twitch up into a smile but quickly droop as a man's arm goes around her.
Too bad. I would have liked to try tugging at those curls. Then again, it's her loss.
When the drinks arrive, I grab one and turn my attention to the rest of the establishment.
There's a good-sized crowd for a Wednesday night, mostly college students. UMass. Emerson. Suffolk. Young. Naive. Far from home. Raring to conquer the world. Bad at handling their alcohol. Just the way I like them.
I lift my glass to my mouth for a sip and keep it there so it's not too obvious I'm surveying the field.
Now, who among these young women is going to get lucky tonight?
The raven-haired chick with the nose piercing playing darts? Too hardcore. The brunette with the plunging halter and the leather skirt? Too easy. The other brunette with the pearl earrings and the fake laugh? Rich and trying to hide it, probably so she can get along with her new friends. It takes one to know one, and the last thing I want is for Daddy's lawyers to come after me, so no.
Then my gaze rests on a redhead. At least, I catch a glimpse of unruly auburn strands peeking out from under a gray bonnet. Her fingertips run over the rim of her Manhattan as she listens to her friends chattering. Well, she appears to be listening. But is she interested? The rigidness in her rounded chin suggests otherwise. Every now and then, a deep thought shrouds her copper eyes and she wanders off into a daydream. It's just for a moment, and she tries to hide the lapse by putting on this smile that lets me see her gleaming white teeth and the dimples in her cheeks, but I notice it.
I take another sip of my Old Fashioned.
Interesting.
I rest my elbows on the bar and watch her as I finish my drink. She isn't strikingly beautiful - in fact, she's perfectly ordinary in her baggy UMass sweater, her face void of the slightest touch of makeup - and yet I can't take my eyes off her. I'm fascinated by the way she gulps down her drink even though she grimaces at first sip. And by how she taps her fingers on her knee beneath the table when a jazzy song starts playing. And by her habit of putting her finger between her lips. I can't figure her out.
And I want to.
As she bites down on that finger to stifle a yawn, I almost chuckle. My friend, Adam, gives me a weird look before standing up next to me.
"Okay. I've kept quiet this whole time about you checking out the chicks, but dude, you're starting to creep me out."
"I'm only checking out one chick," I tell him.
And right now, she's posing with her friends for a selfie. No looking at a compact mirror to see if she has something between her teeth. No applying lipstick. No combing her hair. No fixing her bonnet. She just leans towards the person beside her, looks at the camera and flashes a quick smile.
I can't tell if she's that confident or she just doesn't care.
"She's okay," Adam remarks with a shrug. "I like the bonnet."
I narrow my eyes at him. That's the best he can come up with?
"Are you going to go over there, or are you just going to stare at her all night imagining her without clothes and jerk off to it later?"
"Adam..."
"Don't answer." He lifts a finger. "The great Dustin Montgomery doesn't imagine because he gets the real thing. He doesn't jerk off because he gets chicks to do that for him."
I grin. "You know me so well."
Adam snorts. "I've only spent most of the past three years of my life stuck in a lab with you. When you're not out screwing a chick, anyway."
I pat his shoulder. "Oh, poor Adam. I didn't realize you wanted me to be your boyfriend."
"Shut up." He takes my hand off as he brushes off my teasing. "If any woman knew you as well as I do, they'd jump off a building before wanting you for a boyfriend."
I place my hand on my chest. "Now you're hurting my feelings."
Adam's eyebrows go up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure you had any, given the fact that most of the time, you're as cold and mechanical as that pile of metal and wires you're always tinkering with."
"I'm not cold," I argue. "Or mechanical. At least, not in bed."
Adam rolls his eyes. "Right. You're only cold and mechanical when you're walking out the door right after you get out of bed."
I glance at him. "What's with you? You'd think that after we finally invented something groundbreaking and got the bugs ironed out, you'd be in a good mood. We're going to be millionaires!"
"You know I don't do good moods."
Sulky, cynical Adam. Well, I've had enough of it.
"That's because you don't do.
" I lean towards him and lower my voice. "Dude, you need to get laid."
"Who says you're the only who's been getting some?"
My chin falls. Seriously? I thought he was all work and no play.
"You, on the other hand, won't be getting any tonight if you just sit there," he adds.
Before I can ask what he means, I catch a glimpse of the redhead I've been keeping tabs on from the corner of my eye. Walking away with car keys in hand.
Fuck.
I shove my empty glass into Adam's hand and jump off the stool. Then I follow my prey out of the bar.
She heads to the parking lot, to the silver Toyota sedan parked next to my onyx Porsche Cayenne. I slip my hands into the pockets of my black jacket and lean on my car as I watch her disappear halfway into the backseat of hers, seemingly searching for something. Finally, she pulls back. She hits her head on the top of the door and mutters a curse.
"Shit." She rubs the back of her head through her bonnet.
"Are you okay?" I ask her.
Slowly, she lifts her chin so her eyes can meet mine. They grow wide. Her jaw drops. Her hand falls from the back of her head.
"I..." She glances at the phone in her other hand and slips it inside her pocket. "I'm fine. I just..." She closes the door. "I just hit my head." She rubs it again. "But not badly. It's not like it's the first time I hit my head on the top of the door frame."
I raise my eyebrows. "So it happens all the time?"
Again, her jaw drops. "No. I... It's happened before, but not all the time. I'm not... I'm not clumsy. It's just... an accident. I'm fine. Really, I am."
"And you're stammering," I point out.
Which is kind of cute, actually.
Her thick eyebrows furrow. "No, I'm not... stammering. I..."
I wait for her to finish.
She wraps her arms around her and rubs them. "It's cold, okay? I... stammer when it's cold."
"I think I can do something about that. The cold, I mean." I push myself off the Cayenne and walk towards her with a grin.
Her hands stop rubbing. Her shoulders tense as I stop in front of her.
"I can lend you my jacket." I start to shrug it off.
"No." She steps back and puts her hands up. "I mean no, thanks." She slips them back into her pockets. "I was... I was about to head back inside anyway."
She walks past me.
No? I guess she hasn't had that much to drink. Which means I'm going to enjoy this even more.
"You mean back to your boring friends?" I ask her.
She stops and turns around. "What?"
"You never wanted to be there, right? You never wanted to drink or to listen to them talk about things that don't really interest you."
Her eyebrows go up. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"
"You will," I promise her.
"Ha." She turns on her heel.
"Why?" I ask after her. "Why go back when you don't want to?"
She stops but doesn't turn back. "Because I owe them."
"You owe them?"
"Some of them brought me coffee when I was studying hard to get into med school."
"I see." I nod. "And did you get in?"
She glances over her shoulder. "Yes."
"Where?"
"I haven't picked yet."
"Med school, huh?" I say. "No wonder you were bored. You're too smart for your friends."
"Excuse me?" Her gaze narrows as she turns to face me.
Ah. Nothing gets a woman's attention like an insult.
"You're too smart for your friends," I repeat.
She crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm too smart for you."
"Are you?" I step forward. "Just so you know, I'm in graduate school."
"Studying what?"
"Mechanical engineering. Mostly robotics."
She nods. "Really? Wow. I would never have guessed."
I can't tell if she's genuinely impressed or if she's mocking me.
"Yeah. I'm really good with my hands."
I take my hand out of my pocket and make a squeezing motion with it before running it through my hair and resting it on my hip.
She purses her lips. Maybe she isn't impressed but, she's interested. All I have to do is give her a push or pull her in.
Before I can do either, she turns away.
My shoulders sink. "What? Too smart for you?"
She doesn't answer as she starts walking off.
"Do you always force yourself to do the things you don't like? Do you think that's smart?"
Still, she walks.
"What? Are you actually afraid of doing something for yourself?"
That makes her stop and turn. And march back towards me with fists clenched at her sides.
I grin. That's right. Come to Daddy.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" She glares at me. "Don't you dare talk as if you know me, because you don't."
"I know you want me," I tell her. "But you're too scared to admit it, just as you were too scared to tell your so-called friends you'd rather stay at home and read a book then go to a bar."
She stops in front of me and purses her lips.
"You're curious, but you don't know if it's right. You think you and I could have some fun, but you're not sure you deserve it, or you think you'll regret it later."
Those copper eyes narrow at me. "Are you a shrink?"
"You're the one who's going to be a doctor, not me," I answer as I walk to her side. "And I don't know if you've heard, but medical school is tough. And it doesn't get easier. You'll be busy, sleep-deprived and stressed out for the rest of your life."
She steps away. "I know."
I look into her eyes as I step forward. "So you know this may be your last chance to have fun?"
She moves away but her back hits the side of my car. I've got her cornered. Checkmate.
I lean against the car as I hold her gaze. "You're giving up your life to save others. Don't you think you should do at least one thing for yourself first?"
The lump in her throat moves. Her breathing becomes more labored.
And I go in for the kill.
I lean over and cover her mouth with mine. At first, she doesn't move. She goes as still as a statue, holding her breath. Then, very slowly, her lips quiver and part to let a breath escape.
I press my lips against hers. She pushes back, hesitantly at first and then more eagerly as she grips the sides of my jacket.
I lift my hand to stroke her cheek. Her lips part. I slip my tongue in and taste bourbon. I coax hers to play as I push her head back. My hand cradles her jaw.
The tastes of Manhattan and Old Fashioned mingle between our mouths, the bitters turning into sweet. She moans and the sound goes straight to my groin.
I grip her hip and bring it towards mine so I can grind my body against hers. Her hands go to my back. Her breasts rub against my chest. Heat and adrenaline rush through my veins. My cock swells. So does my impatience.
I open the door to the backseat of the Cayenne and usher her in. I hastily get rid of my jacket before joining her.
The door closes. Our mouths meet again. I slide her bonnet off and run my fingers through her hair as we kiss. I place my other hand on her breast, and when she doesn't protest, I slip it beneath her sweater and her shirt. Her skin feels hot beneath my palm. She shudders.
I slide my palm up smooth skin, feeling the slim body concealed beneath her baggy clothes. Finally, my fingers brush against something even smoother - silk. I caress her breast through it with my thumb. She stiffens and then pulls her mouth away. A blush coats her cheeks.
I hold her gaze as my thumb circles her nipple and then presses down. She gasps.
I kiss her again, robbing her of breath as my thumb slides under the silk cup. It rubs against her stiff nipple and she shudders as she clings to me. Her fingers pierce cotton as they dig into my back.
I pull my shirt off before taking hers off along with her sweater. I plant my mouth on her neck and suck on
the supple skin as I play with her breast. Then my hand slides down. It slips between her legs to caress her through layers of fabric and she throws her head back. Her soft moans fill the car.
I unzip her pants and pull them down to her knees. She pulls them off the rest of the way, her elbow and leg crashing against the back of the front seats while I trace the lobe of her ear with the tip of my tongue.
When she's finally free of her pants, I push her down. I suck one of her breasts through silk before capturing her mouth again. My palm rubs against her cotton panties, getting hotter and wetter by the moment. Then my fingers slip in and delve into the source of that wetness, that heat.
She pulls her mouth away to breathe, to curse, to moan. I watch her tormented expression, torn between delight and despair, as I move my fingers in and out of her. Her hips begin to move. I withdraw my fingers and search for her nub. When I find it, her hips rise off the leather.
Her shaking hands run across my back. Her nails scratch my skin. Her moans turn into cries. My cock throbs and strains against my boxers.
I continue rubbing that nub until she's thrashing in the backseat, completely at my mercy, until my discomfort turns to ache, until impatience turns to urgency.
As fast as I can, I pull down my pants and take my aching cock out. She takes off her drenched underwear.
Just a moment before entering her, I look into her eyes. With tears beading at the corners, her eyelids drooping, and the haze of lust thick beneath them, I can barely see anything.
That doesn't count as a "no", so I push in, keeping her mouth busy as I bury my cock deeper and deeper inside her.
Fuck. She's tight.
In the midst of all the fog shrouding my sex-crazed mind, a thought forms. Is she a virgin?
Not anymore, I think as I give one last push to sheathe my erection completely inside her. She whimpers.
I gaze at her once more. "Are you okay?"
She nods and answers with a shaky voice, "Just get it over with."
How she can manage to be bossy when she's trembling beneath me is beyond me, but I don't mind it. I just obey.
I start moving, allowing desire to take control.
The rhythm consumes me. Her gasps and my grunts fill the car. Heat seeps out of my skin and sweat trickles down my face.
I move even faster, as fast as I can in the cramped space. Her hands move to my shoulders, gripping them as she gives in to pleasure.