Chase Johnson was successful and a billionaire for a reason, yet he was lured by Amaya's smile. Remembering the moment when he'd walked into the living room and she'd flung her bra at him and he'd gotten a look at her bare bounty. Amaya caught his eye, all right, in a way no other woman ever had before. Then she'd argued with him and challenged him, and he'd found he liked it. Women usually become sweetly submissive around him. But she had been so different. Forget danger. Challenge could have been Amaya's middle name. Six years later, she ran into him again, and this time Chase became her boss, and he made her life a living hell, but she couldn't give up. She needed a job for her five-year-old son. Will she be able to reveal her secret to him before it's too late?
"No! Are you out of your mind?"
"Maya, please!"
"You've got to be kidding me, woman." Amaya Petterson looked at her best friend, Mary, and questioned if the demented plan she'd just heard came from her best friend's mouth or if she'd merely imagined the words.
"Please, Maya! Please, please, I need your help!" Mary sighed and looked at her. "You're the only person that I could think of who could achieve this-"
"Achieve my *ss."
"Please."
"Hmm! Wait a minute there," Amaya said, standing up and pacing her friend's huge, feminine bedroom. "It's the night before your wedding to Tyler, and you expect me to go to his bachelor party, invade it-discreetly, of course-and make certain he's not doing it with one of the strippers?"
"Yes."
"You are crazy!"
"I am." Mary nodded, her chin-length chestnut hair gently swaying against her exquisite jaw. "That just about covers it all. What could go wrong?"
"This is madness! But what this actually indicates is that you're thinking about marrying a man you don't trust tomorrow!" Amaya groaned.
"No," Mary answered, settling back on her bed, which was piled high with ruffled, too-bright-green pillows.
"What this means is that I know Tyler is a man."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Amaya groaned and watched her friend bite her lips.
"Amaya, come on. You know that old joke about the brain and the penis sharing the same blood supply, right?"
Amaya couldn't help but chuckle. Yeah, right! "And when the blood goes to the little head-"
"The big head can't think properly. And presto! Tyler's a goner!"
"Seriously, Mary?"
"I'm serious here. I need your help!"
Amaya approached the window and looked out. This mid-November evening, leafless oak trees decorated the quiet suburban streets of Water St., Lewistown, just north of Montana. The two-story house across the street twinkled with multi-coloured lights. She'd flown in late from Los Angeles, almost missing the rehearsal dinner earlier this evening but arriving in plenty of time for the wedding itself. Tomorrow, at two o'clock in the afternoon, was the big day. She served as maid of honour.
Amaya and Mary had gone to boarding school in France. Her best friend had been as reserved and fearful as Amaya had been bold and daring. They'd handled their years away from home as roommates, becoming good friends in the process. Now, on what should have been one of the best nights of Mary's life, she was scared that her soon-to-be husband would be seduced to cheat on her.
Amaya sat in the window seat and used her fingertips to massage her temples. "God, I'm having a headache already."
"I know, and I owe you one," Mary smiled.
Amaya was getting anxious, which was a terrible sign. She despised violence, and Mary's ideas were no more than sheer war.
"Okay, okay! Run the whole thing to me again," she instructed.
Mary sat up more upright and glowed, saying, "Oh, thank you so much, you are an angel."
"Yeah yeah!"
Amaya beemed, "So okay. Tyler knows you're going to the ceremony tomorrow, but he's never met you in person, so he won't recognise you."
"Are you sure?" Amaya asked, raising her brow.
"I'm sure, and we can also fix you up with some kind of, um, makeup, a hairstyle, or something, you know, maybe a dark wig?"
"And?"
Mary smiled and said, "Well, I managed to find out where the party was tonight. It's just a couple of blocks from here, at Chase's residence. He's Tyler's cousin. You might head over there and come right back as soon as you were certain about-"
"There's no funny business going on." Amaya growled.
Mary took a big breath and said, "Yes. No funny thing happening with my Tyler."
"But I'm not sure if I can pull this off, Mary."
"Maya, you're a dancer, what could go wrong?"
Amaya rolled her eyes.
The bedroom was silent. Amaya was dumbfounded that she was thinking of doing this. Mary, on the other hand, drew out all her cards, even sobbing.
"Really, Mary?" She couldn't bear seeing her best friend weep.
"Please..."
"Okay, you win."
"And," Mary continued, "you told me about that dance performance where your entire troop wore only electric-silver body paint, so it's not as if-"
"I'm excessively modest about that part, and you know that, but I'm not stripping." Amaya concluded as she rolled her eyes again. She was a part-time dancer, and Mary knew that. She stood up and walked over to the bright vanity, where she sat down next to her best friend in the world. "But Mary, you do realise what you're asking me to do, don't you?"
"What do you mean?" Mary's pure, dark brown eyes were solemn.
"Do you want me to tell you if I find Tyler having... you know, doing it with one of the girls, and if I tell you, are you going to call off the entire wedding?"
Mary halted, "Um...well-"
The grandiose wedding had been planned with no money spared. It was something that Mary's parents could afford. Amaya was aware that two hundred people were expected at church tomorrow to witness the marriage.
The exquisite flowers, the designer bridal gown, the sit-down dinner thereafter, the lovely cake, the country club celebration-Amaya was astounded by the amount of preparation and expenditure that was put into this wedding.
"Well?" Amaya inquired. "Would you call it off?"
"Yes. Absolutely I would! Well, I would call it quits! Because if I couldn't trust Tyler tonight, how could I build a family on such shaky ground?"
Amaya frowned. "You make a good point."
"Yeah, I guess so," Mary sighed.
"Jesus," Amaya said, feeling herself weak. She took a deep breath and said, "I'm going to regret this tomorrow."
"Of course not."
"Yeah, right. Okay, show me Tyler's picture again."
"Awww!" Mary encircled her with her arms. "I knew I could always count on you!"
"You better not regret this, Mary."
*****
Amaya hurried briskly along the suburban sidewalk late that evening, hoping she wasn't attracting too many glances. She was dressed in thigh-high red boots borrowed from Mary, a navy trench coat, and a red shawl over her head. On that head, however, she donned a black wig, curly and bobbed, courtesy of Mary. Her long, blonde hair was the polar opposite. The last thing Amaya wanted was for Tyler to recognise her when he stood at the altar with his wife tomorrow afternoon.
It's not every day that your maid of honour doubles as a spy. "D*mn it! I'm going to regret this," she murmured to herself.
She'd applied a bit more makeup than usual, including sexy dark mascara and gleaming bloody red lipstick. "I'm going for that L*dy G*ga thing and hoping I don't end up looking like the mummy," she'd informed Mary. Her best friend, however, had assisted her in getting dressed before sneaking out onto the balcony and down the fence on the side of the home, which she and Mary's brothers had done several times as children because it was impossible to just go out the front gate.
The massive home was packed with friends and family from out of the city who were talking, laughing, and toasting the upcoming event the next day.
But as Amaya walked out of the beautifully illuminated house, lights blazing from every window, laughter in every direction, she questioned whether what she was about to do would put an end to this celebration for good.
Nonetheless, she recognised Mary's point. Why marry a man who was going to cheat on you the night before the big day? Why marry a man who doesn't have affection for you enough to be pleased by you alone?
These were difficult questions. She was about to give her best friend some difficult answers. Hopefully not.
Amaya took a slip of paper from her trench coat pocket and inspected the hurriedly sketched chart Mary had created for her. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and began walking north towards Tyler's cousin home. "Good, it wasn't difficult to locate Chase's residence," she murmured to herself.
The first red flag was the number of car parked in the round drive.
The seductive music wafting out into the night with a powerful, passionate beat was the second indicator. That, and a chorus of men laughing.
However, the tiny group of ladies crowded to the side of the house, passionately fighting. Amaya made the decision to go straight in.
"Hey, are you guys here for the party?"
The three women turned to face her. They were unsure, even terrified.
"Yes," said the brunette.
"What's wrong? Any problem?" Amaya said as she approached.
"Yes, big time. One of our girls couldn't make it. She got diarrhoea from a hamburger. Damn it! I told Daisy not to eat; she had to have that stupid burger."
"With more hot sauce," another brunette female said. "Silly really."
A redhead spoke up. "Yeah, and we don't think the guy who hired us will mind, but he insisted on four girls."
"Exactly what do you need to do anyway?" Amaya asked, believing she should be informed of what she was getting herself into. She was curious as to how far these ladies were prepared to go.
"Well, it's simple really. I mean, we strip down to our knickers, keep it as tame as possible. All fantasy stuff, you know? But classy and well, a little kinky. Then we wiggle and tease the groom quite a bit, but absolutely nothing too sexy, just a few kisses and all."
Amaya raised her brow. "Really? That's all?"
"Yes," said the brunette. "The man who hired us wished some really sexy twirling around, and I guess you could call it a striptease."
Amaya smirked, "The traditional kind?"
"Yes."
"Hmmmm," Amaya reflected. "Nothing kinky, like two girls going at it?"
"No, Chase made it very clear that the groom adores his bride, and as he said, nothing too nasty and too kinky. Just a little tease."
"Hmmm." For a brief time, Amaya pondered simply walking home. But she knew Mary would be confused.
"I will help you guys out," she eventually declared.
"What?" inquired the redhead. She had silky golden locks and a lovely face.
Amaya said, "What was your buddy's name again? The one who couldn't make it?"
"Daisy," the blonde answered.
Amaya extended her hand. "My name is Amaya, but everyone calls me Daisy."
"What?" said the third girl, who had dark red hair and intense eye makeup. "What exactly are you talking about?"
Amaya rolled her eyes. "Hey, you're missing a fourth girl, Daisy, and I need to get in there and play with those gentlemen."
"Why?" the blonde said, curiously. "What in the hell are you up to?"
Amaya briefly described her relationship with the bride as well as what Mary had requested she accomplish.
"Really?" waved the blonde, introducing herself as Helena. "Do you think Tyler thinks we're going to do that sort of stuff? We're from Montana Fancy Performers, and we have an image to maintain!"
"I don't think Tyler does," Amaya answered, opting to leave out the point that she'd not seen the groom. "To be honest, I think my friend, the bride, is a little nervous. Her first fiancé turned on her right after he proposed, and she found him in bed with an old lover at his home."
"Really? What an ass," whispered Helena.
"I know." Amaya groaned.
"Jerk," the redhead Pamela added.
"She's better off without him," stated Nancy, the brunette who introduced herself.
"My thoughts exactly," Amaya remarked. "I'm really just doing this to amuse Mary, but I need to get inside."
"Do you dance?" Helena inquired.
"I do it all - conventional, dance, tap - I have a dance troupe called Silver Moon France in the Bay Area, and we've even danced in just body paint."
"Artsy kind?" Pamela inquired, evidently sceptical.
"And sexy?" Helena said, hoping.
"Yes." Amaya pulled her trench coat off, snapped her fingers, and began to dance to the rhythm coming from Chase's residence behind them. "Is this good enough?"
"Oh my god, those are some great moves," Nancy said. She cast a peek towards Helena. "Come on, Helena, you know this would save our bums. We don't have a choice. Amaya could help."
"I propose we let her join us," Pamela said. "Our boss never has to know."
"Okay. Whatever, fine with me," Helena claimed. She gave Amaya one final look. "Just stay next to me and let me know in case any of those men do anything nasty."
"Sure." Amaya murmured.
"I'll kick their *ss. Tell me if you aren't comfortable, okay?"
"Thanks," Amaya smiled. She liked them already.
Jackson steps in front of me, his strong hands cupping my face as he brings his forehead to mine. "I want to replace it. I want to take all your nightmares and turn them into something beautiful, the way you've done for me. I just need you to trust me. You think you can do that?" I was only looking at how he gently held me with his huge hands. Considering his bulk frame, I was like a fragile glass he was holding. I don't know why but my heart did skip a beat, but I had to swallow it up and pretend that I didn't feel it.
Grace Lim was a woman well on her way to making her dreams come true, but she soon learned that she may be out of job. To make matters worse, a tragic misunderstanding lands her on the wrong side of her soon-to-be boss. As a business prodigy, CEO, James Gregori Grayson wasn't afraid to make hard decisions. After all, he was the world's last pure-bred vampire and had a deadly score to settle with the hunters who killed his family centuries ago. But when one of his friends was killed, leaving an orphaned half-breed daughter with no awareness of her heritage and origin, he was forced to guide his now gorgeous secretary into the world of the undead. Racked by confusion and changes in her body that weren't there before, Grace found herself irresistibly drawn to her seductive boss as passion ignited and threatened to consume them both. However, she was unprepared for the reason he had sought her out and the danger that lay ahead. Regardless, sharing a love of conquering their goals, this unlikely pair began to form an unexpected bond that led them to a place neither of them ever expected to be.
Olivia White replaced her sister to be engaged to Vincent Barton. She thought that the one she married would be a disabled man with notorious reputation, while to her surprise, Vincent is actually very handsome with great figure. What’s more, he treats her so well that he tends to satisfy all her requirements with no limits. In front of the public, he is the ruthless heir to the Emperor, while in front of her, he is her clingy husband who only belongs to her.
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Dear readers, this book has resumed daily updates. It took Sabrina three whole years to realize that her husband, Tyrone didn't have a heart. He was the coldest and most indifferent man she had ever met. He never smiled at her, let alone treated her like his wife. To make matters worse, the return of the woman he had eyes for brought Sabrina nothing but divorce papers. Sabrina's heart broke. Hoping that there was still a chance for them to work on their marriage, she asked, "Quick question,Tyrone. Would you still divorce me if I told you that I was pregnant?" "Absolutely!" he responded. Realizing that she didn't mean shit to him, Sabrina decided to let go. She signed the divorce agreement while lying on her sickbed with a broken heart. Surprisingly, that wasn't the end for the couple. It was as if scales fell off Tyrone's eyes after she signed the divorce agreement. The once so heartless man groveled at her bedside and pleaded, "Sabrina, I made a big mistake. Please don't divorce me. I promise to change." Sabrina smiled weakly, not knowing what to do...
In their three years of marriage, Chelsea had been a dutiful wife to Edmund. She used to think that her love and care would someday melt Edmund's cold heart, but she was wrong. Finally, she couldn't take the disappointment any longer and chose to end the marriage. Edmund had always thought that his wife was just boring and dull. So it was shocking when Chelsea suddenly threw divorce papers at his face in front of everyone at the Nelson Group's anniversary party. How humiliating! After that, everyone thought that the formerly-married couple would never see each other again, even Chelsea. Once again, she thought wrong. Sometime later, at an award ceremony, Chelsea went onstage to accept the award for best screenplay. Her ex-husband, Edmund, was the one presenting the award to her. As he handed her the trophy, he suddenly reached for her hand and pleaded humbly in front of the audience, "Chelsea, I'm sorry I didn't cherish you before. Could you please give me another chance?" Chelsea looked at him indifferently. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nelson. My only concern now is my business." Edmund's heart was shattered into a million pieces. "Chelsea, I really can't live without you." But his ex-wife just walked away. Wasn't it better for her to just concentrate on her career? Men would only distract her—especially her ex-husband.
Eliza's life was destroyed by them: her boyfriend and her best friend. Five years ago, her boyfriend's career was at its lowest point and Eliza sacrificed everything to support him. However, her best friend fooled Eliza to be a surrogate mother. When her boyfriend led a successful career, he dumped Eliza because she had lost her virginity and had babies. It was just an excuse for the affair between the shameless couple. Losing all interest in life, she agreed to marry Mr. Valentine, a disfigured billionaire who likes to torture women in bed. It was said that his two exes died horribly in bed. Eliza didn't know that Mr. Valentine was the man she used to carry babies for. In this way, she got a handsome husband and a pair of adorable twins... """
For seven years, Jillian pursued Bryan with unyielding passion, but he remained distant, his emotions tightly sealed. Disheartened, she left for overseas after graduating from college. Three years later, Jillian, now a successful attorney, sat provocatively on the lap of Bryan's competitor. She flashed Bryan a playful smile and taunted, "What's wrong, Bryan? Are you impotent?" Bryan's restraint shattered in an instant. In a swift motion, he scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. The next morning, as Bryan woke up, Jillian flashed a mischievous smile. "Let's keep things casual, okay?"