Page 101 of Riches and Romance

“All right, I’m in,” I said, extending my hand across the table. Valentina smirked at the gesture but shook on it anyway, her tanned skin warm against my palm.

Jenny returned with our food, and the sight of my full country breakfast next to Valentina’s egg white omelet was laughable. Her eyes grew wide as she took in my meal: two eggs sunny side up, two thick cut slices of bacon, breakfast potatoes, and a side of biscuits and gravy.

“That’s your usual?” she asked, taking a small bite of her meal.

“Takes a lot to look this good.”

I puffed my chest and flexed a bicep at her, but she just rolled her eyes.

“Charlotte warned me about you and your ways.”

“Myways?”

Valentina set her fork down, folding her hands and resting them on the table.

“This engagement will be strictly by the books. All that strutting and swagger might get you laid every once in a while, but that’s not about to happen here. I’ve got a job to do, and that’s all.”

I raised my hands in surrender, shrugging and shaking my head. “Fine by me. You’re the boss.”

“Good. Glad that’s settled.”

I nodded, and we continued eating, but in the back of my mind I knew it was all a lie. She could tell herself all she wanted that there was nothing between us, that she wasn’t picking up what I was putting down. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s women, and this one was definitely into me.

I gave it three days, tops, before I got in her panties. We were both grown-ups. We could keep it professional.

But there was no way in hell I was letting her fly back to LA that next week without a taste.

CHAPTER 3

Valentina

What the helldo you wear to Sunday dinner in the freaking middle of nowhere?

Pulling a third printed top over my head, I let out a loud, exasperated sigh as I tossed it into a pile with the rest of the rejects. I went back to rifling through my suitcase, pushing various fabrics and colors aside in search of an outfit that would make me feel cool, calm, and collected—basically the exact opposite of how I was currently feeling.

It’s not like I’d never been to Shady Grove before. When I’d flown out for Luke and Charlotte’s wedding, I’d thought the town was cute enough, and on some level, I understood why Charlotte had decided to stay. But something about this place just didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it had to do with the lack of Starbucks or anything remotely familiar, but I wasn’t the kind of girl to have a panic attack over a lack of creature comforts. No, my problem with that place wasn’t a what. It was a who.

An arrogant, frustrating, sexy-as-hell who.

Duke Wilder.

My fingers landed on a soft, silky piece of fabric, and I immediately pulled it out of the rat’s nest. I held it out, the beautiful marigold dress unfurling before me. Charlotte had convinced me to buy it when we were out shopping the year before, but I’d never worn it. Honestly, I’d only thrown it in my suitcase to make her happy. But with only a few minutes before I was officially late to my own welcome dinner, it was the only option I had left.

After slipping the dress on, I swept my hair to the side, wrestling my dark, unruly curls into a loose braid over my shoulder. Pulling out a few pieces in the front to frame my face, I took a step back to check my reflection in the floor-length mirror. The dress hung just right around my body: it cinched at the waist, its hemline just brushing the midpoint of my calf, the off-the-shoulder cut perfectly showcasing my tanned shoulders.

How is this the first time I’m wearing this dress?I really needed to stop doubting Charlotte’s taste.

Slipping on a pair of strappy leather sandals, I slung my purse strap onto my shoulder and walked out the front door. If there was one thing I was grateful for that night, it was that the walk to Luke and Charlotte’s was short. After waking up at an ungodly hour for the redeye and then gritting my teeth all through breakfast with the official pain in my ass Duke, I was pretty damn tired. Staying in the guest house just a short walk away from Charlotte’s was one hell of a blessing.

When I got to their door, I rang the bell, taking a step back to look around and admire the porch. There were a couple of chairs, and the whole thing was so cute and country, I half-expected to find a porch swing. It might not have been my cup of tea, but I couldn’t deny that there was something charming about this whole small-town living thing.

The door swung open, and my stomach dropped when I saw the green-eyed, dimpled face smiling at me from the doorway.

Puta madre.

“Hey there, darlin’, long time no see.” Duke raised one arm over his head and rested his elbow against the doorjamb, leaning his muscular body in a way that made all kinds of dirty thoughts cross my mind.

“Nice to see you remembered to put clothes on this time,” I said, trying my best to make my once-over of his body seem cold and disinterested, despite the familiar ache between my legs. Just looking at his hips brought me right back to our initial meeting in his kitchen that morning. Let’s just say those boxer briefs left little to the imagination.

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