Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Breaking Out (The Surrender Trilogy #2) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Lydia Michaels |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | 1101626119 (ISBN13: 9781101626115) |
| Book Information: | |
Second in the darkly compelling, sexually-charged contemporary romance trilogy, in which two men vie for the mind, body, and heart of a woman who may never give in to their wishes—or her own… Evelyn “Scout” Keats has left behind her painful past of surviving on the streets, and is now living in the luxurious penthouse master suite of Hotel Patras with her lover, billionaire Lucian Patras. But what she doesn’t know is the price Lucien paid for her freedom. To protect Scout’s life, Lucian cut a deal with a dangerous man from her past, Parker Hughes. He swore to stay away from her for thirty days, even though he knows Parker will be fighting to keep them apart for good and take Scout as his own. Yet neither man realizes that Scout is not about to be used as a prize or a bargaining chip for any man’s power play—and she falls back on her hard-earned self-respect and courage to show both men that the only person she truly needs is herself. But Lucien has other plans… DON’T MISS COMING HOME, THE THIRD AND FINAL NOVEL IN THE SURRENDER TRILOGY | |
| Books in Series: | The Surrender Trilogy Series by Lydia Michaels |
| Books by Author: | Lydia Michaels Books |
Part V
Evelyn
Chapter 1
The Job
Evelyn smoothed her clammy palms down the front of her pencil skirt. The narrow belt at her waist winked under the artificial, amber lighting of Patras’s lobby. Reflections danced across the toes of her patent leather Mary Janes as her feet clicked over the polished marble floor, suddenly muffled when she crossed the thresholds and the four-inch heels landed silently on the red runner. Dugan waited just past the gold tassels.
Her hands tightened the lapels of the nipped jacket she wore over her pearl-buttoned blouse as the brisk March air cut through her clothing. Dugan nodded at her and opened the door to the limo.
Silk slid over leather as she slipped inside the warmth of the car. The door shut with a gentle snick and she adjusted the nude lace at the top of her stockings. Nerves twisted her stomach into a spring that coiled and released adrenaline, heating her blood.
Dugan glided into the driver’s seat. “Where to, Ms. Keats?”
Pulling in a slow breath, she carefully exhaled, forcing away any trepidation. Her lips were done in a deep crimson shade one of the girls at the salon had suggested after she had them style her hair in a sophisticated French twist that morning. She was very aware that she looked nothing like her normal self.
“Patras Industries,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.
Dugan’s untamed brows lifted to the brim of his hat. She had never been inside Lucian’s office. It was a part of his world she didn’t like to trespass on, but after their conversation this week, she knew it was time to cross into that part of his domain. After all, he had brought so many of her fantasies to life that it was time she returned the favor.
Dugan maneuvered the limo carefully away from the curb and eased into traffic with practiced skill. The pearls at her neck hung low in her cleavage. Her fingers twirled over the opalescent, heavy beads. Her mind toyed with images, predictions of Lucian’s expression as she unveiled her surprise.
Her legs crossed and uncrossed as the limo navigated through the busy streets of Folsom. A jolt of nerves had her questioning her motives. What if Lucian was busy and became upset when she interrupted his day?
She pushed the thought away. This was one of his fantasies. He’d taught her to be adventurous. As much as she worried he would be upset with her brazenness, she couldn’t truly imagine her handsome exhibitionist being too put out.
The corner of her mouth pulled into a secret smile. Breath filled her lungs as excitement spun wildly in her belly.
The limo pulled up in front of Patras Industries. The glass façade reflected a distorted version of the car back at her. “Would you like me to phone Mr. Patras and inform him you’re here?”
She tensed. “No. No, thank you, Dugan. I’d like to surprise him.”
“Would you like me to wait?”
Her palms again smoothed her skirt. “That won’t be necessary. Lucian will see that I get home safely.”
“Very good, Ms. Keats.”
Dugan exited the car and came to her door. Sweet anticipation had her knees softening. Sliding out of the car, she stood and found her footing in her high heels. She was doing better with the walking in heels thing. Her clothing adjusted with gravity and her eyes momentarily widened as she became suddenly aware of a minor wardrobe shift down below. Heat rushed to her cheeks as the gusset of her panties sagged under the damp weight of her arousal. She was already starving for him. Luckily, no one could see her panties. Yet. Lucian would know soon enough how excited she was.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Dugan.”
He nodded. “Do you know where you’re heading?”
“Fifteenth floor, right?”
“Yes.”
Taking a deep breath, she pivoted, and stepped through the revolving door. The lobby was quiet. A man sat on a chair beside the elevator, typing something into a Blackberry. Evelyn’s manicured finger pressed the elevator button, and it instantly took on a golden glow.
The man looked up from his phone, his gaze traveling from her heels, up her stocking-clad legs, around her curves barely concealed by the tight skirt, and settled at her breasts. Her lips tightened as she watched the antique metal arrow clock the floors. When the car arrived, she breathed a sigh of relief and stepped inside the elevator, away from Sir Staresalot.
Knuckling the button for the fifteenth floor, she stepped back and ran a quick hand over her clothing and hair, making sure everything was in place. The car alighted with a luxurious purr and slowed just as the arrow reached fifteen. Shutting her eyes, she took a calming breath.
Showtime.
The metal doors parted and Evelyn carefully stepped out onto burgundy carpet. Phones rang and quiet voices carried. A woman in a brown skirt and ivory blouse leaned flirtatiously over the reception desk, a ballpoint pen twirling in her dainty fingers as she whispered to the young man who manned the area.