Dirty Little Secret (Forbidden Desires #1)

Emma

What a disaster.

I hadn’t meant to sign up for their agency. I’d merely wanted to go to Gavin’s office to see if I might catch a glimpse of him, to ease a little of the burning curiosity I’d had since finding his business card. Now, I couldn’t recall exactly because it was all a blur, but I was pretty sure I’d agreed to prostitute myself out to a pair of brothers who owned an escort company.

Good grief!

When I’d arrived and the woman at the front desk assumed I was there for an interview, I hadn’t corrected her, I’d just followed her inside her office and answered her questions politely. Admittedly, I’d been curious about Forbidden Desires, and was eager for a glimpse into the company that Gavin ran.

The meeting with Sonja went by in a blur. She was polite and discreet. It was almost as though she was interviewing me for a secretarial position.

And then I’d been so nervous when she ushered me into Gavin’s office, I’d barely been able to string together a coherent sentence in front of him and his brother.

I’d nodded along with what they said, waiting until I got outside the building to let a string of curse words rip. I’d just have to call them back in the morning and let them know there was no way in hell I could ever go through with something like this.

The two of them together were overwhelming. So much masculine energy, the room practically overflowed with testosterone, making me dizzy. They were each over six feet tall, and where Gavin was dark and handsome with a chiseled jaw dusted in dark stubble and piercing hazel eyes, Cooper was lighter with messy golden hair, green eyes, and a playful grin.

But Gavin . . .

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but his demeanor and harsh words seemed to bypass my brain, charging straight into that secret part of me I always kept firmly hidden. The part of me that wanted to be cherished and worshipped, to please a man so deeply I knew without a doubt was my other half.

I’d left with a promise to call tomorrow and give Sonja my response to their proposition. Too bad I wasn’t entirely sure what that proposition was. Did they really just want someone on their arm for a couple of events? Or did they expect me to sleep with them?

I shivered at the thought, recalling the way Gavin’s gaze moved over my body, leaving a trail of flames in its path. As I made my way home on the number seventeen bus, I let out a panicked chuckle and pushed the thought—and the Kingsley brothers—from my mind, forcing myself to contemplate what to do with my evening. On my phone, I placed an order for Mediterranean take-out food and mentally calculated how many episodes I had left to watch of my favorite show on Netflix.

Back at home, I changed from my black pencil skirt and cream silk blouse into yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Then I proceeded to gorge myself on falafel and shawarma, promising I’d hit the gym extra hard in the morning.

Only after my pre-bedtime routine, while wrapped up in a blanket on my couch with a book in my lap, did I allow my mind to wander back to the day’s events.

Gavin had been totally unlike I’d expected. He was cold, almost rude. I realized now that my expectations had been based on pure fantasy. A fantasy that was better left to my dreams at night.

I pushed my glasses higher on the bridge of my nose and tried to shove him from my brain. He was nice to look at, but I was done with men who treated me like I was merely an afterthought. It was foolish, but I wanted the kind of love I read about in the pages of my favorite romantic literature. I wanted a man who worshipped and adored me. My very own Heathcliff, without the dramatic ending, of course.

And Cooper? He was different. I knew he would be sweet and kind . . .

But he was still a man who was looking for a date with an escort. And that meant he had no interest in something real.

Talk about delusional, Emma.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I willed my gaze to focus on the words on the page and ignore the discontent stewing inside me. But now that my mind had started to wander, it was intent on taking stock of how lonely I’d become in the ten months post-Nathan . . . and even long before that, if I was being honest with myself.

This was how I ended my days—alone in my brownstone, one of my favorite literary classics in my lap, my glasses pushed up high on the bridge of my nose.

Getting up to pour myself a glass of my favorite nightly treat, the chocolate milk I kept in the door of the fridge, I realized my life hadn’t always been like this.

Back when I was with Nathan, when it had all started out, I’d thought it was going to be a typical relationship. Girl meets boy; girl falls in love. And all that did happen, but it wasn’t that simple.

We were set up by a mutual friend, and everything was fine for a while. I never could have imagined it would turn into such an ugly, abusive relationship.

Before Nathan, I was confident, strong-willed, and knew right from wrong. I wasn’t a pushover. But slowly, as he burrowed deeper and deeper into my life, he began to manipulate me, taking me down a very, very dark path.

My waking hours were spent worrying over what he might do, what he might say about a decision I’d made. He had opinions on everything, from my job and my friends to my wardrobe and how I spent my paycheck.

Slowly, Nathan began to isolate me from my friends and family, making it so I was reliant only on him. The scariest thing was that I didn’t realize any of it was happening. It was a gradual fall.

And then? I woke up two years later with a swollen, puffy red eye and knew I had to leave, or one day he would quite literally kill me. My self-esteem was at an all-time low, and I knew I needed to make a drastic change.

I took a gulp of my drink, dumping the rest down the drain as an unexpected sharp knock at the door startled me.

Pursing my lips, I tossed on my fluffy pink robe and ventured to the peephole to look out. No one was there. When I opened the door, I found a large round black box resting at my feet, a pretty silver bow affixed to the top. Looking up, I watched a uniformed messenger climb into a delivery van in front of my house.

With trembling fingers, I lifted the box and carried it inside to my dining table, tugging the white note that was affixed to the top of it. In elegant, bold script, there were three words staring back at me.

For you.

— Cooper

Again, I had that tingling sense that everything was about to change.

And suddenly it made me angry.

Yes, I’d harbored a secret crush on Gavin for the better part of a year—but it was a dream, a wishful thought. In my imagination, he was untouchable, and therefore a safe option to fantasize about. The reality of him and his interests was a little too grim for my liking.

I’d made my decision the second I left his offices in the glittery tower. I might have been intrigued, but that was as far as it went. I told Cooper I’d consider their offer, and for just a moment, I had.

But even my determination not to get involved with these men didn’t stop me from opening the box. It was as though my fingers moved of their own volition, pulling open the lacquered lid carefully until I saw what was inside.

Holding my breath, I pushed aside the mounds of crisp tissue paper, then lifted the gown from its resting place inside, admiring the feel of it in my hands. The glittery gold fabric was surprisingly heavy with fine boning and delicate glass beads painstakingly sewn into the sheath bodice.

I let out an indignant snort. I’d be returning this ridiculous gown.

Right after I tried it on . . . just once.

And who could blame me? I’d never worn a gown this exquisite in my life. I’d never had a reason to.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

The ring of my cell phone in the other room captured my attention, and I marched out to retrieve it. The only people who called me were my mom and Bethany. The number on the screen was one I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Miss Bell,” a deep, slightly familiar voice said.

“Who is this?”

“Cooper Kingsley. Did you receive the dress?”

“Oh yes, I did, but—”

“You didn’t like it?”

“It’s not that, it’s just . . .”

“It didn’t fit?”

His tone remained smooth and steady while I grew increasingly flustered. I took a moment to compose myself, drawing a deep breath into my lungs.

“I’ve put some more thought into your proposal.”

“I see. Well, I don’t think it would be fair to discuss this without Gavin. Why don’t you come into the office tomorrow and give us your answer? Good evening, Miss Bell.” And with that, he clicked off.

I was left staring down at my phone, my heart thrumming steadily. Apparently, giving him a piece of my mind would have to wait until tomorrow.