Page 1 of Ruin Me Sweetly

Prologue

Luke

Ten Days Before Christmas

One by one, I slapped the photos of all the characters in Isabella’s story down. I paused at Amber. She was a good kid and a credit to Isabella. I slid her photo up, slotting her into a prime spot beside Isabella’s.

Isabella’s parents went beneath Amber and Isabella. Retired and living in Spain. The pissy little boyfriend was barely worth a mention in her life. I slid him to the bottom. My new daughter could do far better.

Her two friends checked out. I placed them above the boyfriend.

I stared at the dead man’s son. Clive Rayne had left some big boots to fill. I was grateful for the man’s diligence with Isabella. I was the first man in her life after five long years of celibacy, and by God, it left her thirsty.

But I was holding back.

Because when I took her, it would be when she was at her most fertile.

I placed the adoptive son’s photo beneath the absent parents before sitting back.

Zachary Rayne.

There was something wrong about him.

Immature? Disturbed?

My eyes rested on Amber. I tapped my fingers on the oak.

I lifted the phone and dialled the private investigator’s number. He’d been a great help when I collated information against the Jezebel I’d recently divorced.

A problem for Isabella or my new daughter was a problem for me.

“Mr Newbury.”

“Hello, Michael. I have a job for you.”

Chapter 1

Isabella

For once I didn’t wake up and think about the clothes I’d wear or what I was packing for lunch. I didn’t even stress about Amber’s finals, not with how studious and responsible she was becoming.

No, I lay in bed, wondering why Luke would stop after a few kisses. Or why, when I slipped my hand down to his waistband, he’d drag it back up to his chest or neck. I side-eyed my nightstand. Didn’t all men want sex?

It was there. In the silk grey pouch. Fully charged. Thick, with a curved tip.

But it had been so long since I’d had a real cock.

I groaned.

Angry, frustrated, and feeling sorry for myself and my vagina, I shoved the covers back.

So much for dating again.

I reached the bathroom and stared at the mirror. For a thirty-eight-year-old woman, I was in good shape. He was six years older. Perhaps his testosterone levels were dramatically declining, or his cheating ex-wife had put a hex on his dick.

No. Tonight was the night.

I was taking Luke Newbury down.