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gentleman’s anger
PLAYERS & SINNERS
M.K. MOORE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Epilogue
(pretty much ever VSQ song ever, but specifically these ones)
Love Story Vitamin String Quartet
Take Me To Church Vitamin String Quartet
Bring Me To Life Vitamin String Quartet
Sail Vitamin String Quartet
Firework Dallas String Quartet
Love Story Taylor Swift
Die for You The Weeknd
blurb
Logan Reynolds is a perfect gentleman, that is until he gets on the pitch. All bets are off out there.
When he sees the new owner, he never imagined she would be everything he ever wanted.
Patience Winters has never taken no for an answer. Her 1% stake in the London Lions is about to
finally pay off. She shouldn’t get involved with a player, especially not Logan Reynolds.
Is it really such a sin?
When they fall, they fall hard, fast, and dirty. Doesn’t love always win?
Can his wrath match her patience?
Hate the sin.
Love the sinner.
Falling for the bad boys may get these ladies into trouble, but it's hard to resist the temptation. The
guys are hot, talented, desperately wanted, famous... and the details of their stories extremely
addicting.
As the women these athletes love peel away the layers, each one uncovers a side the public doesn't
normally get to see. Whether or not that side is worth the fight is a different question.
One only answered by the heart.
7 Deadly Sins meet the famous athletes of the Players and Sinners Club. Indulge with these standalone
stories, guilt-free.
one
LOGAN REYNOLDS
A t twenty-four, I’ve been around long enough to know that I’m beyond fucked up, but I can
compartmentalize it, for the most part. When I was seven years old, I witnessed my parents murders. I
had gotten up for a drink of water and heard a noise. Like a dumbass, I went to the source of it. I
pushed open my parent’s bedroom door and froze as I watched in horror as they were stabbed to
death by strangers. Like a coward, I went back to bed, hoping and praying it was just a nightmare.
Afterward, I kept hearing the whispers of the killers as they carried the TV from their bedroom
downstairs. When they left, I finally called 911, but it was too late. They were gone and my older
brother, Jensen, became our guardian. He raised us well, but it wasn’t the same. I never told anyone
what I saw. I am ashamed that I didn’t do more to help them. It weighs on me more than anything ever
has before. For years it was just Jensen, Harry, Paul, Don, Dave, Kyle, and me against the world.
Jensen really held it together. He was eighteen when it happened. I like to think that if it had been me,
I would have been able to step it up, but I’m not so sure. Jensen was a professional gamer for many
years but once he got married to Jessica two, almost three years ago, he moved into game design,
which I guess had been a dream of his. I’m ashamed that I didn’t know that about him. Fuck. I’ve got
to get better about visiting more often. When I was eighteen, I left Florida for England and I never
looked back. Sure, I visited some, but it is no longer home. My brother tried, God bless him, but I
haven’t had a home since the night I stood by and did nothing as my parents were murdered.
My brother’s don’t understand me and that’s okay. I don’t need them as much as I thought I would.
I have to be my own man. I don’t know exactly when I turned into this hardened person, but something
has got to give, and it’s got to be me. Only I can change it but at this point I’m not sure how to go
about doing that.
I never date, I’ve never fucked a woman before, never wanted to waste my time. Night after night,
I watch as my teammates, most of whom are my friends, search the clubs of London for whatever
pussy they can find for the night. I never understood that. Mind you, this isn’t rooted in some religious
piety. It’s because I want my heart, soul, and body to belong to my soul mate. The one woman out
there that was made just for me. Until I meet her, my sole focus is the game. I put on my uniform, the
black and gold colors pumping me up. For luck, I jump up and tap the “Welcome to the Lion’s Lair”
sign before reaching the pitch. The crowds cheers, and even their jeers make me grin. The fucked-up
gentleman I was two seconds ago is gone. In his place is the wrathful god of rugby I have become.
This game is the last of the regular season. When we win, we’ll go onto the semi-finals.
We have to win. Winning is what it’s all about. The violence of this game means nothing without
winning. Nothing. As the teams hooker, my soul job is to hook the ball back to my team.
Eighty minutes until glory or eighty minutes until defeat.
I know which I’d prefer but it’s not all up to me. Hopefully, Lady Luck will be on our side.
“Ready, mate?” my best friend, Jimmy Long asks as we make our way out to the pitch. London
born and bred; Jimmy was the first person to warm up to me on the team. As the only American on the
Lions it was hard getting acclimated, but Jimmy and his family helped me out.
“Born ready,” I tell him, grinning.
“Let’s rock those Badgers,” he says as we get into rows. The whistle blows and the match begins.
Eighty minutes later, victory is ours. We beat the Badgers by just three points, but I’ll take them.
We are on the way to the semi-finals now.
This is my fourth time at the semi-finals, but we’ve never managed to get into the finals since I’ve
been here, but to be fair the Lions never made it to the semi-finals before I got here. The team was
very unbalanced before the former owners son took over.
After a quick shower in the locker room, Jimmy thrusts a dry-cleaning bag into my hands.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
“The club.”
“I have a suit. I don’t need to wear yours,” I reply, trying to give the bag back to him.
“Not for this club.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m bringing you as my guest to my private club.”
“I don’t want to see strippers,” I say, quickly.
“It’s not that kind of private club. I mean not unless you want it to be.” I look at him with what I
am sure is the craziest look on my face. “I’m not doing a very good job of explaining this.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay. It’s like this. Do you know what the regency period is?”
“Yes.” I don’t elaborate that the only reason I know what it is isn’t because of history classes.
When my mom died, she had tons of historical romance novels. They were all over the house. She just
left them wherever she finished them, like decorations. Jensen was selling everything, which I got, but
when no one bought the books, he was going to donate them to a thrift store. For some reason, I didn’t
like that. I made him keep them. Since I was only seven at the time, I left them in boxes in the garage.
When I turned twelve, after being punished for shoplifting, I was tasked with cleaning and organizing
the garage. I found them again. Armed with Lady Sophia’s Duke For Hire by Chastity Bontrager in
one hand and a dictionary in the other, I fell into a fantasy world I’ve never shared with anyone. It’s
my guilty pleasure. Some guys snuck Playboy and Hustler; I wasn’t one of them. Instead, I read every
single one of my mom’s books and I feel like I learned a lot from them. Once I finished one, I moved
on to the next one. They have graduated from six carboard boxes in my brother’s garage to a large
plastic tote that can hold a six-foot Christmas tree in my air-conditioned storage unit back in Florida.
I still read them now, but thanks to the invention of the Kindle, I can read them discreetly. I can’t
imagine what how fucking badly my teammates would make fun of me if they ever found out.
“So in the Regency Period they had gentlemen’s clubs.”
“Like White’s on St. James Street?” I ask, cutting him off.
“Exactly. This club is on St. James too, but it’s open to anyone. Men and women. It’s called The
Pinnacle.” I choke on my water, which I just started gulping down. Pinnacle is an old term for a
woman’s orgasm. I don’t know if this is common knowledge, but I know, and I’d be lying if I said I
was intrigued by the idea of this club. “You okay, mate?”
“Yep. Great. Go on.”
“Well, tonight is their famed Crisis party. I can bring a guest. If you like it, you should join. I’ve
been a member for six months and it’s pretty fucking awesome.”
“Is it?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s unreal. Unlike any club I’ve ever been too. Therefore, you have to wear this.” He hands
the bag back to me.
“Okay. Let’s go,” I reply, suddenly excited a way I don’t think I ever have been before.
Any club named after the female orgasm who holds a party named after the male orgasm definitely
warrants at the very least a visit.
two
PATIENCE WINTERS
“W here the hell is Patience?” I hear shouted from somewhere on the other side of my shut and
locked trailer door. I know I’m needed on set. They have called this scene three times now, but I am
not ready. Diva Patience is on the loose. My best friend, Holly opened up a private club in London
and asked me if I wanted to invest in it. I was looking for a tax write-off at the time, so I invested,
becoming a silent partner with a 49% stake. After that, I invested 1% in the London Lions, my dad’s
favorite rugby team. I’ve been going to matches there since I was little girl, so when they were
looking for some new investors, it was a natural move for me. My phone vibrates across the table, so
I pick it up and see that Holly has texted me.
Holly: You have to come see the club. We’ve been open for two years and you still haven’t come
to see the place. You should come. Tomorrow night is the Crisis.
Me: Okay. I’ll be there.
Since I haven’t been home in ages, I quickly book a ticket for London and set my phone back on
the charger. She has been asking for a while now and I would honestly kill someone for my mum’s
Toad in the Hole. It’s fucking delicious. There is nothing like Yorkshire Pudding battered sausage
with the best gravy ever. It’s always been my go-to comfort food. However, I haven’t had any in two
whole years. I’ve been acting since I was four years old. My mum was the best mumager ever, but
when I turned eighteen, she went home and managed me from there. She’s the best business partner I
could ask for. Other than Holly, I don’t trust a single person besides my parents to help me with this.
Everybody lies, cheats, and steals. That’s why I don’t have many friends. I’ve been burned too many
times. I look at myself in the mirror. Twenty-one is way too young to feel this tired. To look this tired,
but I really, really love my job. I love getting to be a totally different person every day. I love telling
stories. I love that people get lost in those stories. Hell, I love it all.
I paste on a big smile and not two minutes later, I’m giving it my all as Fanny Albright, a poor
farmer’s daughter who saves the town from a nuclear reaction from the power plant on the other side
of town. It’s the first role I’ve done that isn’t a children or teen movie. My ultimate goal is romantic
comedies. You know the ones with one or two chaste kisses and undying love before the credits roll. I
don’t want to do anything too risqué or make out with someone who isn’t my husband, but before that
can happen, Holly begged me to play the lead role in the movie based on her novel. I couldn’t turn her
down. Of course, I don’t even have a husband, but I know he’s out there somewhere waiting on me. I
can’t, in good conscience, go to my husband anything other than pure. I know it’s old-fashioned but
there is something to be said for it. There was probably a reason why all those years ago a virgin
bride was best. I think a lot of things that have happened in the world in the last two hundred years
that has made that virtue fall to wayside, and I get that. I really do, but I don’t have to agree with it. I
want to my husband, whomever he may be, to know that I have never or will never take anyone else
into my body. It’s his. It should be a sacred right and it’s the only thing I can give him that money can’t
buy.
Once I finish shooting, I’m finished with all my parts. I don’t have to be here anymore. I’ve been
in a hotel for months now, since we are on location in Estonia, it’s not going to be a long flight home.
I board my Regal Air flight, first class. Since it’s so late, there is no one else in the section. I fall
asleep almost as soon as we take off. Less than three hours later, I’m at the baggage claim. The taxi
ride to the house I bought for my parent’s is blissfully short. I’ve only been here once, but it’s my
home base. I pay the driver and take my bags up to the front door.
Using my key, I let myself in. My parents are already in bed because, unfortunately, I can hear
them having sex. Ugh. I mean, I guess it’s a good thing that they love each other so much, but I really
don’t want to hear that. To be fair, they didn’t know I was coming home.
The lights are off, and I run into something… Something that wasn’t there the last time I was here.
“Bloody hell!” I scream, dropping my purse and keys, then lift up my foot and clutch it. My whole
foot is throbbing.
“Who’s there?” a man, not my dad, shouts as he comes out of my parent’s bedroom.
Of course, I scream again. The lights flip on, and I see that it’s definitely not my dad, but his best
friend. “Uncle Ray?” I ask, confused. He’s naked as hell, brandishing a cricket bat. As if he can read
my mind or something, he drops the bat and covers himself up.
“Paysh?” he says, equally confused.
“Patience?” my mum says, running out of her room. Her open dressing gown billowing behind her.
“Mum?”
And then, because I needed to see this, my dad comes out of the bedroom in his jockey shorts,
which isn’t that weird, but then Ray’s wife, Auntie Rita, rolls right out of there too with one wrist
handcuffed, in a purple silk and lace nightie.
“Pum Pum, you’re home.” I look at my dad. It’s like he’s a stranger right now.
“I am,” I say, looking around the room. My mum has finally closed and tied her dressing gown. I
take a deep, calming breath. “What’s going on here?” I gesture to group of them wildly.
“It’s not what you think,” Dad says.
“Uh-huh. So tell me.”
“We are a quad.”
“What?” I ask. My mind is racing to catch up with whatever this is.
“We are all together. We have been together for twenty-two years. Tonight is our anniversary,”
Auntie Rita says.
I just nod. I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. Ray and Rita have been in my life for as long
as I can remember. I knew my mom got pregnant with me when she was eighteen and at university.
Ray and Rita always lived right next door to us. They did everything with us. Holidays, my school
plays which there were a lot of vacations. Even dinner, most nights. I just thought they were all best
friends. I always thought of them as extension parents.
“Say something, Patience Aria Winters.”
“Which one of you is my dad?” I blurt out. I always thought I looked like Ray, but I didn’t dwell
on it. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. It doesn’t really matter, does it?
“Well, uh, we don’t know, but I had you. I swear,” Mum says.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We weren’t sure how you’d react. When you were a baby, it was easy. The four of us did it all.
Feeding, changing, soothing. Even as you got older the first six years of your life, we carried on as we
always did, but then someone said something to us when you started primary school. We didn’t want
you to be embarrassed. You were getting more acting jobs. We knew you were going to be a big star,
Patience. We didn’t want the press to get wind of unconventional lifestyle and cause you problems
down the road. We did what we thought was best. You don’t remember Ray and Rita being here all
the time?” I nod because I do remember it. My mind flashes back to the time I fell off of my bicycle
and Rita was the only one home. She didn’t work when I was little. She bandaged my knee and kissed
my boo-boo. I vividly remember saying “thank you, Mama.” How in the hell could I have forgotten
that? Who forgets a second set of parents? A self-absorbed bitch that’s who.
“I do. Rita stayed at home with me during the summer.” I look her, really look at her. She used to
hang the moon for me, and I just forgot about it. I can’t imagine what she’s been going through all
these years. As Auntie Rita, I loved her, but it couldn’t have been the same for her and it certainly
wasn’t the same for me. My budding success robbed us. I have to make it right, but not tonight. Not
while everyone is so… undressed.
“That’s right. I didn’t work. They all did, but I took care of the house and cooking.”
“Toad in the Hole,” I murmur, suddenly vividly remembering making it by her side in the house
we all must have lived in before I started school.
“That’s right. It’s her recipe.”
Okay. I’m in Hollywood ninety-nine percent of my time before that I was a theater geek. I’ve seen
some crazy shite before. I’m also pretty sure everyone is embarrassed by their parents at some point
during their awkward adolescence. I can totally handle this.
“What kind of quad?” I ask. My dad, Roger, I guess I need to start differentiating, nods like he
knows what I’m meaning, which is good, because I have no idea what I mean.
“Quad might be misleading, but that’s what we call it. We are all together, all in love.”
“Desperately and equally,” Rita says, moving closer to my mum, grabbing her hand. I watch as my
mum squeezes it.
“Why am I an only child?” I ask, praying that they didn’t stop having kids because of me.
“Rita had a miscarriage about nineteen years ago and neither of us ever got pregnant again,” Mum
says.
“Not for lack of trying,” Ray says, making me laugh.
“Jesus, go put something on, Ray,” Dad says. Ray backs out of the room and disappears into the
bedroom.
“Nothing has to change, Pum Pum.”
“Um, not to be difficult but this most assuredly changes everything,” I say as Ray comes back into
the hallway.
“Patience, please. We are sorry for lying but don’t shut us out,” Mum says, and I smile.
“Mummy, please. You know me. I was just confused, but now my entire childhood makes sense.
You should have told me, but I get why you didn’t.”
“What are saying, Paysh?” Ray asks moving to my dad, who takes his hand and Rita’s in his. The
four of them are standing, together, like an immovable wall.
“We are a family. We always have been. Now, I have four parents who I’m pretty sure all love
me.”
“We do,” Rita and Mum say at the same time. Dad and Ray nod vigorously.
“I knew it. I knew my parent’s best friends wouldn’t come see me in school plays if they didn’t.”
“We should probably tell you one other thing,” Mum hedges.
“What?” I ask, cautiously.
“Okay. This is where it gets legally confusing. I’m married to your dad and Ray is married to
Rita, but the four of us did a commitment ceremony as a group and as four separate couples.”
“Okay, so to clarify. Mum and Dad are married in the eyes of the law. As are Ray and Rita. Then
Ray and Dad committed to each other, You and Rita committed to each other. Dad and Rita did the
same and you and Ray rounded that out.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Well. I guess I’ll see you guys in the morning then. I quickly buss kisses on each of their
cheeks and grab my purse and carry one before dashing up the stairs.” As I walk past the bedroom, I
glance inside. The largest bed I’ve ever seen in my life is in there as well as several dressers, and not
one, but two sex swings hung right next to each other in one corner. Nope. Not going there.
“I’ll get your suitcase, Pum Pum.”
“No need, Dad. I’ll grab it in the morning. I have stuff up here. Happy Anniversary.”
After shutting myself in my room, I pull some pajamas out of my dresser. I strip down and throw
the One Direction T-shirt and pair of shorts on. Only then do I remember my foot is killing me. I look
down at it and see the bruise already starting to form. Oh, well, nothing I can do about it now. I slide
into the crisp sheets of my bed.
Well, that was certainly interesting.
When I wake up in the morning, I’m not surprised the find the four of them sitting around the dining
room table, eating breakfast. Fully dressed in proper pajamas, thankfully. I pour myself a cup of tea
from the teapot on the table. I grab some toast and bacon and sit down. Ray and Dad are reading the
paper, while Rita and Mum talk quietly. I have several months before I have to be anywhere. My next
shoot doesn’t start until May. It’s filming in Sussex, so plan on staying in London for a good long
while.
“Sweeting, you must have a lot of questions for us,” Rita says.
“Not really. I just can’t be calling you and Ray by your names anymore. So, I’ve decided to
change that up if there are no objections.” No one says anything, so I continue. “I think Mama and Da,
will work, like before. What do you think?”
“I think that would be lovely,” Mum says, grasping Mama Rita’s hand.
“We all do, Pum Pum.”
“How long are you home for?” Mum asks.
“At least until May. I can stay at a hotel if that’s a better option. I know you gave up twelve years
together for me. I don’t want to be the cause of any more separation.
“We wouldn’t dream of it, Patience. This is your home.”
“Technically, I bought it for you, but…”
“But nothing. Stay as long as you like. It’s not too weird for you is it?” Dad asks.
“Well, other seeing way too much of Da, it’s fine.” That garners a laugh. “I do have one question
though.”
“We all have sex,” Mum blurts out before slapping a hand over her lips. Everyone looks over at
her.
“Uh, good for you, but that’s not what I was going to ask.”
“Sorry. Continue.”
“How did this happen? How did you know the others would be into it?” I take a bite of bacon in
order to stop talking.
“Oh, well. Ray and I were roommates at university and so were they. We hung out and dated
casually, but it felt like something was missing. One night we had a few too many beers down the pub
and one thing led to another. I had never and still haven’t been attracted to another man. Just Ray.”
“It’s the same for us too,” Rita says.
“Love will do that to you. Pure and simple. Love knows no boundaries and it never fails, always
remember that, Paysh,” Ray says, surprising me. He’s usually the funny guy. I’ve never heard him say
anything so… poignant before.
“Hear, hear,” Dad says, rubbing his arm.
“Alright, enough of that,” I say wiping a stray tear that escaped at his words. Suddenly, the
doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” I say, leaving the dining room. Moving to the front of the house, I pull the
front door open.
“Delivery for Miss Patience Winters. Patience Winters? Where have I heard that name before?”
He looks at the label and back at me several times. “The movie star, Patience Winters?”
“I wouldn’t say star, but yes I am she,” I say, offering him my press junket smile.
“Wow. Cool. Sign here,” he says thrusting a iPad at me. Using my finger, I sign it. “Could you also
sign this? My daughter loves you.”
“Sure, do you have a pen?” He pats his pockets down with one hand, but comes up with nothing.
“No, shite.”
“Hang on,” I say reaching into the bowl of crap mum keeps by the front door. It’s mostly change
and rubbish mints, but I find a mini hot pink Sharpie in the mess. I sign my name to the piece of paper,
a receipt, I think. I take the box from him and thank him. Opening the box, I find a note and a gorgeous
red gown, along with all the proper Regency undergarments. Holy shite. Are these crotchless
drawers? I’ve never worn anything so elaborate before.
This is how I find myself being cinched into a corset tighter than a vise by my mums ten minutes
before my taxi is set to arrive, but we did it. I stare at myself in the mirror not recognizing myself.
Rita curled my hair to look like Daphne’s in Bridgerton. My boobs are right under my chin, and the
pearls I borrowed from Mum look amazing, just kind of nestled there.
“You look beautiful. Tonight is going to change your life. I can feel it, Sweeting,” Rita says,
looking at me. She’s beaming with pride; just likes she’s always done. I could kick myself for not
realizing how much she loved me. I pull her into a hug, which is the first time I’ve done so since I
was six, I believe. I pull Mum into out hug and kiss both of their cheeks.
“Thank you, Mama. Mum.”
After a quick goodbye from the Dads, I hop in the taxi, ready for wherever this night will take me.
three
LOGAN
A s soon as we get to the Pinnacle, I see a huge, ornate sign by the entrance way that reads:
Welcome to The Pinnacle.
This is an exclusive, all-inclusive club hidden in the heart of London. Here, no one knows your
name. Privacy is paramount. There are only a few rules here:
This is a 21 and up establishment. Guests are welcome but they must remain with the member at all
times.
Never discuss what occurs within these walls with any non-member. To get to this point, you signed
a non-disclosure agreement, remember that always.
No cellphones.
No cameras.
No Modern clothing. All of our patrons are to be dressed to the nines in Regency Attire only at all
times, unless utilizing a private salon. There are several shops in London we recommend, however
if you are looking for something couture, be sure to contact Migan Jorgensen. She has created all
of our proprietrix’s wardrobe.
Do be sure to remember, on the last Saturday of each month we hold The Crisis, a no holds barred,
hedonistic party where non-members can see what we are all about.
Here we are all Lords and Ladies.
Here we can be whomever we want.
Whatever your pleasure: cards, billiards, drinks, dancing or if your daring, be sure to check out
The Auxiliary, where all things debauched dwell.
Come inside and party like it’s 1820, because here, it’s forever the Regency Period.
I read each rule. As I do, I get more and more excited. Like Christmas morning when you’re ten
excited. I’m barely in the doors when I decided to join. I step into an antechamber and meet with the
owner, and fill out paperwork. I also sign the NDA. We chat for a few minutes while she runs my
credit card.
“Welcome to the Pinnacle, Lord Reynolds. Enjoy your evening,” she owner says, smiling at me.
She’s a consummate professional. If she knows who I am, she doesn’t say anything.
“Come on this way,” Jimmy says, leading me over to a locker area. “Phones go in here. You keep
the key until you leave.”
“Oh, okay,” I say. The sign is making sense now, not to mention the additional rules the owner
said she’d email me.
“Welcome to the Pinnacle, gentleman. I’m Elyse. Should you need anything, anything at all, please
don’t hesitate to ask. Enjoy The Crisis.” She gestures toward the entryway.
“Thank you,” I say, not knowing what to expect.
The entryway is thick red velvet curtains. Automatically, the curtains part and we are in the main
salon. It looks like pretty much every fancy bar in the world, but the historically accurate touches are
what makes it stand out. We make our way to the bar and order shots of Jameson. I throw mine back,
savoring the delicate spicy flavor of it. On the way over, Jimmy told me that most of the team are
members here. It’s a place to go where we aren’t mobbed by fans. The way it was described to me is
Julia Roberts could be drinking a dirty martini right next to you, but you can never tell a soul. In here,
no one cares who you are, they are pursuing their own pleasures. That kind of anonymity is unheard
of. It was recently released in the press that I am the highest paid rugby player in the world and damn
sure gold diggers came out of the woodwork. No fucking thanks. I am glancing around the room, when
the curtains part again and my breath leaves my lungs in an undignified woosh.
“Who’s that?” I ask, looking again at the woman who is now coming toward us with the owner,
Holly Fraser. I feel like I’ve seen her before, but I can’t place her. She’s so beautiful, it’s almost like
she isn’t real. Her red dress should be illegal with the way it clings to her curves. Her strawberry-
blonde hair is curly and it’s begging me to touch it. To run my fingers through it. As she’s walking
toward me, her blue eyes don’t leave mine. She’s perfection, practically floating toward me,
surrounded by ethereal red gauzy fabric. The red in her dress actually matches the red in my
waistcoat.
“Mate, come on. That’s Patience Winters,” Jimmy says.
“The actress? What’s she doing here? Who is that man she’s with? I ask, then feel immediate and
irrational anger and jealousy at the thought of that beauty being with anyone other than me. The
reaction is so visceral that it takes me by surprise. I’ve never reacted to a woman like this.
“I don’t think she’s taken. At least not publicly. Who knows with actresses? Who is that beauty
with her?”
“Lady Holly,” I say, still staring at Patience. God as my witness, nothing short of death could take
my eyes off her.
“How the hell do you know her, mate?” Jimmy asks. I can tell he’s pissed about something, but
what I couldn’t say.
“She’s the owner. I met her when I signed up for membership.” One minute in this club and I was
hooked. I’m dressed like the duke of nothing, but fuck this is fun. Hands down, the best six thousand
dollars I’ve ever spent. The yearly dues are less at five thousand, but it’s going to be so worth it.
“I met with someone else entirely when I signed up.”
“I’ll introduce you,” I reply, feeling every bit like a duke who is about to give his mate a proper
introduction to a lady in my acquaintance. How Regency. I’m not gonna lie. I fucking love this shit.
“They are coming toward us,” Bobby Gallagher, another teammate of ours says from my
right. He’s dressed like Mr. Wickham in Pride and Prejudice. The ladies flock to him. No matter the
century, ladies love a man in uniform.
“My Lords, this Lady Patience. Lady Patience, Lords James, Robert, and Logan. Make her feel
welcome,” Holly says before leaving her with us. For the briefest of seconds I wonder how she knew
Jimmy, when he had never met her, but Patience smiles and my heart skips a goddamn beat. Jimmy
takes off after Holly like a lightning bolt just singed his ass. Bobby shakes her hand first, but then it’s
my turn. Our hands touch and I freeze.
Without a doubt, this is my woman.
Mine. Mine. Mine. My inner caveman comes alive for the very first time. I step closer to her, still
holding her hand. Her scent hits my nose and I’m lost in a haze of Chanel perfume and something
uniquely her. Apples maybe…
My soulmate.
My everything.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Patience,” I say, before leaning down and kissing the back of
her hand, never breaking eye contact with her.
“Likewise,” she says, blushing. “But, um…” she begins, worrying her bottom lip. Why is that so
fucking hot? “Which lord are you?” Her accent is sexy, and I’d give anything to here that voice say my
name. Preferably, over and over as I pound into her. Whoa. Slow down, player.
“Logan Reynolds, at your service.”
“Logan Reynolds? The hooker?” Out of context, that would be bad, but I chuckle anyway. Her
eyes widen when I nod.
“Rugby fan?”
“Oh, God. Yes.”
At that moment, a woman comes up to Bobby and pulls him away, leaving the two of us. Standing
there. I’m still holding her hand, though it’s down at our sides now. She didn’t wear gloves, but then
again neither did I.
“I am he. Is this your first time here?” I ask, as a string quartet starts to play. People begin to
dance, and champagne corks begin to pop behind the bar area.
“Yes. I just got back to London.”
“Where were you, if I may ask?”
“On location in Estonia.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It was alright, but I am glad that’s done. I might have some post-production reshoots, but that will
mostly likely be done on a soundstage in California.”
“That’s pretty cool,” I say, as the song playing shifts quickly into another one. Patience’s face
lights up when she hears it.
“Oh, it’s Taylor Swift’s Love Story,” she says, bopping her head along to the music. “It’s my
favorite song. What the hell is Holly up to?” That last bit was muttered, and it makes me wonder how
well she knows Holly.
“Would you like to dance?” I ask.
“Yes. I would.” Since I still have her hand in mine, I lead her onto the dance floor. We dance like
we’ve been doing it every day since the beginning of time. Just before the song ends, I stop and pull
her as close to me as she can get. She licks her lips in what I hope is anticipation.
Oh, come on now. She’s fucking mine.
four
PATIENCE
O h. My. God. I was just dancing with Logan Reynolds. The Logan Reynolds. The rugby god
himself. I know perfectly well that I own a stake in the team he plays for, but I can’t bring myself to
care that this might be ethically wrong or something like that. The lovely string quartet moves
effortlessly into another song, Faithfully, by Journey and then his lips are on mine. The rest of the
room blurs around us. It’s just him and I. My knees go weak and as if he knows it, he grips me harder
to him. There are too many layers between us to, so I can’t feel him, but God, how I want to. For the
first time, I want to.
What can I feel are his lips pressed to mine. Our breaths mingling. He tastes like whiskey and
fire. Then his tongue sweeps into my mouth and I let him devour. I devour him in return. Vaguely, I can
hear Firework by Katy Perry and I fleetingly think that it’s appropriate but then he switches up the
kiss. Deeper, harder, and infinitely just more. That’s all I’ve got. Somehow, my back is now pressed
up against a wall. When did we move? I don’t know because my eyes are closed. My hands roam his
back as I get lost in him.
In this.
In us.
I don’t know how long we kiss for. I lose track of everything. Eventually he pulls away from me
and my eyes pop open. I’m dizzy.
“Why did you stop?” I ask, so breathless. It’s like I’ve run a marathon.
“I am about two fucking seconds from taking you against this wall, Patience. I… I don’t know
what’s come over me.”
My hand moves from his back, and I place it on his cheek. I smile up at him, because did I fail to
mention that this man is a giant god. I know for a fact, he’s 6’4 and weighs at least sixteen stone. He’s
a big boy and I like that. A lot.
“You are going to be trouble, Reynolds. I can already tell.” Then he grins. Fuckity fuck, he’s hot
as hell.
“So are you, milady.” Shite. Why did he say it like that? Like it was a caress. I hear a tiny moan
escape from my lips as my core clenches and I feel a rush of liquid heat slide down my thigh. Can you
come just from words without even being touched? I take an assessment of myself. My nipples are
hard and rubbing against my corset. How did ladies get anything done back in the day? Crotchless
knickers and overworked nipples? I wouldn’t get a damn thing done.
“What just happened, duchess?” he asks, his voice harsh and gravelly.
“N… Nothing,” I lie.
“What a pretty liar you are, Patience.”
“I’m not a liar,” I lie again. His index finger trails my cheek, then he traces over my lips and down
my chest rubbing the tops of my tits, back and forth, he rubs me.
“Tell me, did you come?” he asks, his lips against my ear. His devilish tongue hits the shell of my
ear. I shiver. Full on shiver.
“No. Of course not. Who comes in the middle of a crowded room?”
“Plenty of people, I’m sure. But there’s no one in this little alcove but us.”
“There isn’t?” I ask, peeking around his broad shoulders. I see that he is indeed correct. We are
all alone. “Kiss me again,” I demand.
“Answer my question, duchess.”
“Yes,” I hiss when his lips dip to my neck. The quartet slides into Chains by Nick Jonas and I
can’t help but feel that this whole night has been catered to me.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing me again. I don’t know how long we’ve
been kissing. Then I hear a throat clear, delicately. Logan stops kissing me and we both look at the…
intruder. Holly and either James or Robert.
“Holly, Jimmy,” Logan says. So, James. “How can I help you?”
“Perhaps you’d like entry into a private salon? We were just on our way to one when we came
across you.”
“Private salon?” I ask, after swallowing thickly.
“Do you realize your corset has been loosened?” Holly asks, making me look down at my chest at
the same time Logan steps back in front of me, shielding me from view. No nip slip, but you can see
them, nonetheless.
“Avert your eyes, Jimmy, unless you want them blackened,” Logan growls. It vibrates all through
me.
“Already averted, mate.”
“Uh, no,” I say, mortified. I try to reach behind me and tighten the laces, but my stupid arms are
too short.
“Turn around, duchess,” Logan says, his voice low. I do what he says automatically. He deftly
tightens the corset and ties it tight. He drops a kiss to my shoulder before spinning me back around.
“Lead the way Lady Holly,” he says, taking my hand in his. Our fingers interlace and I swear nothing
has ever felt more right than this does. Holly produces a key from her pocket and hands it to Logan
after we stop in front of a door.
“The Green Salon,” she says, winking at me. What is her deal? Then she’s off again, leading
Jimmy further down the hallway. Logan unlocks the door and opens it. Inside, there is faux candlelight
lighting our way. There is an elegantly decorated queen size bed in the corner. A fireplace with two
chairs in front of it and a what I can only call a… sex couch in another corner. There is also a small
fridge hidden smartly. And, you guessed it. Everything is green and gold. The music from the main
room is piped in here, but it’s softer. Perfect. He clicks the lock into place. The sound harsh, yet it
makes my pussy clench in anticipation. The way he’s looking at me make me think he knows that I’m
dripping for him. Only him.
We don’t say anything. What can we say? We rush to each other before another breath is taken.
Our lips meet, frantic for some reason. My hands touch every inch of his back, what I can reach
anyway.
“Patience?” he asks. I’m so into this, into him, that I didn’t realize he took his lips off of mine.
“Yes,” I say after clearing my throat.
“Please tell me that I can have you.”
“Yes,” I say, without hesitation. There is just something about this man that I can’t explain. He
looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world. He makes me come undone. It’s too much. Too fast. But
I’m falling in love with him anyway. I don’t really know this man. We’ve barely spoken to each other,
but somehow none of that matters.
Nothing matters.
Nothing but him and I.
This.
Us.
“Thank fuck,” he growls, spinning me around. My corset is unlaced in seconds. I let it fall to the
floor, my dress falling without the tight corset binding it to my body. I’m not wearing a bra or the shift
thing that Holly sent. I am wearing the crotchless knickers though, and I wish I weren’t. I quickly pull
them down my legs. I skipped the stockings, and I wore Birkenstocks because I hate heels, unless I
absolutely have to wear them. I leave them inside the flounce of the dress and step out of it. This is
the first time I’ve been naked in front of anyone as adult that wasn’t a female in a wardrobe
department. To say that I’m nervous would be an understatement.
“Turn around for me. Slowly,” he says. I do that and our eyes meet. His green ones are feral. They
excite me. Am I really going to do this? I wonder to myself as his eyes greedily wander over my
body. Yes. Yes, I’m going to do this and I’m going to love it. Consequences be damned.
“I think you are quite overdressed, milord,” I say, reaching for him. I fling his overcoat down his
arms and unbutton his waistcoat. Belatedly, I realize that it’s the same deep crimson as my gown. I
don’t have to think about that. It too is gone. His shirt is quick to go. He toes out of the big black boots
he has on, reaches down and pulls his socks off. My hands reach for the button flap thing on his
trousers. Opening them, I see he’s not wearing anything else. They fall to his ankles, and he kicks them
away. We are both blessedly naked. My eyes roam his body. He’s all muscles on muscles and that hip
V thing I’ve read about has my mouth going dry. I swallow. Then I continue down. His cock is bloody
huge. And I want it. In me. The fierceness in which I do want it surprises me. But it shouldn’t. Not
with him. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to explain it. I want to feel it.
“Did you go commando in another man’s fatigues?” I ask, giggling. I don’t know why I said that. It
was just the first thing I could think of other than fuck me. Hard, fast, slow, gentle. Dealer’s choice. I
just want him… so I reach for him. The heat coming off of him is radiant. I’m drawn to him in a way
I’ve never been drawn to anyone before.
“Yes,” he groans as my hand wraps around his hard length.
“I heard you’re not supposed to do that,” I moan as I he pumps his hips, thrusting his cock into my
tightening hand. Why does that turn me on so much?
“Fuck, duchess. He gently moves my hand off of him. “You have no idea how much I want your
touch, but I’ll come if you keep doing that.”
“I thought that was the idea.”
“Fuck,” he growls. I love that he’s so growly. He hauls me up into his arms. My legs wrap around
his waist and my arms around his neck. He kisses me as he walks toward the bed. Suddenly, I’m
dropped to the bed. He grabs my legs and pulls me closer to the edge, so my arse is hanging off of the
bed.
He drops to his knees and spreads my thighs open. He doesn’t say anything, but he gives me a
wicked look and licks his lips.
Lamb to the lion.
I’m ready to sacrifice every covenant I hold dear to this man.
I’d set the world on fire for him and let it burn, burn, burn.
five
LOGAN
H oly fucking shit. This girl is amazing. My cock is harder than it ever has been before. It’s leaking
like crazy too. Patience’s pretty pussy is wet for me. I feel like a king, instead of the duke I’m
pretending to be. I can see how her pussy shines for me like a fucking star in the night sky. I prop her
legs up on the bed frame for support and spread her wider for me. I’m already on my knees ready to
worship her. Starting at her ankles, I lick and kiss my way up her legs, alternating back and forth
between her long, toned legs. When I reach her thighs, I breathe her in. She’s sticky here from when
she came earlier, without my touch. I avoid that place on her because I want my first taste of her to be
straight from the source. What will her orgasm be like when I touch her? When I lick her? When I’m
buried nine inches inside of her? Unable to help myself, I gently bite down on her thigh. When she
moans, I bite down a little harder. There is something about knowing that I am leaving a mark on her
that makes me feel like a savage beast. After doing the same thing to her other thigh, I move higher,
nipping her hips.
“Why?” she gasps.
“Why what, duchess?” I ask. My voice sounds tortured and unlike my own.
“Why are you teasing me, Logan?”
“Because I don’t want this night to end,” I reply honestly.
“Oh, Logan. I don’t want it to either, but I am no achy for you. I need you,” she says, softly. So
softly, my heart breaks in a way that I didn’t know was possible. Fuck. I grip my hands into fists on
my thighs. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give this woman. Nothing I wouldn’t do for her. My mind is a
war with the rest of me. How could I have fallen so deeply for a woman I met an hour or so ago? If
there is anything I’ve learned in my life it’s that love doesn’t follow the rules. It makes you break
them. All I can do is nod, because if I open my mouth to speak I’ll say something crazy, and she’ll
leave me. That can’t fucking happen. happen. Ever. Being this close to her, a hairs breath away, the
scent of her drives me wild. Like a witch, she has me under her spell, one I never want broken. Damn
it all to hell, I need the taste of her sugar my tongue before I take her.
Because I will be taking her.
Keeping her.
Claiming her.
Owning her.
She’ll own me too. Body and soul, she’ll rule me like the goddess, queen, duchess, she is.
I run my tongue up her slit. From top to bottom. One first taste of her sweet juice and I am hooked.
I’ll crave this taste until the day, the motherfucking second that I die.
“Logan,” she moans as I eat her pussy. She’s so responsive to my touch and that’s fucking
amazing. My eyes scan up her belly to her tits, to her eyes. She’s looking down at me like I rule the
world and I feel like I do at this very moment.
My tongue slides into her tight hole and I watch her as her mouth opens in a perfect O shape. Her
hands tangle in my hair as she moves her hips, riding my face. Shallowly, I slide my finger into her.
She tighter than I imagined she would be. I add a second finger into her. Pumping them in out of her,
like my cock is about to do. She’s murmuring nonsense, but I can’t understand what she’s saying. With
my tongue on her clit and my fingers inside of her, I make her come. I am rewarded with a flood of
wetness from her. She’s panting and moaning my name over and over. Fuck. The sound of her like this
made me come, but I am still hard as hell. Standing, I look down at her. Her eyes are open but slightly
glossed over. My ego inflates knowing that I’ve done this to her, and no other man ever will again.
She’s mine now. She has to be. She has a sweet, contented smile on her face.
“Move up onto the bed,” I tell her. She crawls to the center of the bed and lies back on the
pillows.
“God, Logan. Please. Hurry. I need more. Please,” she begs, and I lose my mind. She’s so fucking
beautiful. How could anyone ever so no to her?
I move onto the bed and between her open thighs. Leaning down, I kiss her. She moans when she
tastes herself on my lips. I can’t get enough of this woman. I move my lips down her neck to where I
can feel her pulse. I suck and bite there, knowing that she’ll wear my mark there too. She doesn’t try
to stop me. I move down her body, licking every inch of her as I move. She gasps as I pull an already
hard, pale peach colored nipple into my mouth. My hands are on her tits, feeling the weight of them in
my hands. I move to the other one and give her more of that, while my cock thrusts against her belly.
Then I feel her hand wrapped around my cock again.
“Patience, please, don’t,” I say through clenched teeth. “I have to be inside of you.”
“I want to taste you too,” she says bringing her hand back up between us. She gathered my come
from before. My eyes widen as I watch her lick her palm and each one of delicate fingers clean of my
seed. Holy hell. I could die right now, but I don’t want to. I’d be missing out on her. Patience. Her
name is litany in my head.
“Jesus,” I growl before leaning down and kissing her again. She drags her fingernails down my
chest, and I welcome the bite of pain. She’s got me all kinds of messed up right now.
“Take me, Logan. Make me yours,” she says, kissing me again.
Gripping my cock, I move her down a little bit, and pull a leg up to hook around my hip. I run my
cock through her wet fold. I rub her clit with the head before dragging it back down her slit to her
opening.
“There’s no going back after this, Patience. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me to stop,” I say, praying she
doesn’t say either of those things or anything like it.
“I’m yours, Logan. Take it.” My eyes pop up to hers.
“You’re a virgin?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Don’t stop.”
I slide into her slowly, savoring the way her walls clench around me as I enter her. Leaning down,
I kiss her again as I push through her cherry. She gasps into my mouth but keeps kissing me. I wait,
giving us both a chance to adjust to this. I move my lips to her ears, licking the shell and the place just
behind her ear that smells of her perfume.
“You’re my first too, Patience. My first and only.” She gasps again, but I don’t give her chance to
say anything as I begin to move. Slowly at first. Savoring. Always savoring. She wraps her other leg
around my hip and tightens them both. Somewhere in my mind, I faintly hear a cello. Take Me To
Church by Hozier is playing and I can’t help but to think the soundtrack of tonight was catered to us.
Somehow. Patience moves her body in time with mine. She meets me thrust for thrust as I take her,
knowing all the while she’s taking me too.
six
PATIENCE
“Y ou’re my first too, Patience. My first and only,” he says making me gasp. He’s a virgin too?
How the hell can that be possible? He’s hot and famous, women must throw themselves at him all the
time. Well, that pisses me off, so I choose not to think about that. He’s proficient at this, I think. Of
course, I don’t really know. All I know is how I feel. I feel both dead and alive at the same time. I
feel safe yet desperately in danger. I never understood what the women in the romance novels I love
so much meant. With my legs wrapped around his waist and my hands clenching his forearms, I try to
meet him as he thrusts into me, but the end result of that is just being fucked into the bed and I can’t
complain. I would never complain. I feel everything and nothing all at the same time. It defies logic.
To be his first and only is a dream come true. To know that there was never anyone before me
makes me determined to ensure there’s no one after me. He’s bare inside of me, and I can feel every
ridge and vein of him, like he’s tattooing himself on me. I’m not on birth control, there was never a
need before, but he doesn’t know that. We didn’t even ask any questions. From the moment I walked
through those velvet curtains and our eyes met, I was his. In every way, for every day moving
forward. I knew it. It like a supernatural force brought us together. This right here. Us, joined as one,
was always the end result. The only result possible.
My pussy clenches around him and he groans, fucking me faster and faster. My orgasm builds and
builds until it explodes. Literally. I scream his name and tighten my thighs around his hips like I
imagine a snake does to its prey. As crazy as it seems I don’t want him to pull out of me. I know I’ll
love and want this man until my dying breath.
“Patience!” he shouts, before his whole body tenses up and I feel him fill me with his hot seed.
It’s almost scalding and it’s definitely branding me. Branding me in the best way.
My breathing is harsh; coming in pants and gasp, and it matches his. Still inside me, still
impossibly hard, he drops all of his weight down on me and I welcome it. My arms wrap around him
as he kisses my chest, more like he murmurs over my skin, but it feels like kisses. I shiver under him. I
want him again.
“You must be cold,” he says, pulling out of me gently, but I regret the loss of him all the same. He
rolls off the bed and I scramble to join him. I move to my clothes and start to put them on. “What are
you doing? Are you leaving?”
“I thought you were done with me,” I say, suddenly shy. I don’t know why. He’s seen, touched, and
tasted every inch of my body. Not to mention he was inside me.
“Don’t misunderstand me, duchess. I’ve staked my claim and you won’t be going anywhere. Get
back over here and let me have you. Again, always, forever,” he says, throwing back the covers on
the bed. I drop the gown in my hands, and run to him. He catches me and our lips meet again. I can’t
get enough of this man. He drives me wild. Suddenly, I am on the bed again and he’s slammed back
inside of me. I can’t help feeling a sense of rightness. Like he’s exactly where he belongs. Like I’m
exactly where I belong.
“Logan,” I moan, which seems to be all I can do.
“I know, Patience. I know.” He hasn’t moved yet, he’s just in me. A part of me. With each passing
second the undeniable bond between us grows stronger.
“You’re killing me,” I say as I flip us over. He goes easily, thankfully. I am not sure I could have
done that without his help. My hair falls around my shoulders. It’s wild, I caught a glimpse of it in the
mirror when I was standing.
“How so?” he asks as his hands land on my hips and begin to roam up my ribcage until he’s
holding my tits in his hands.
“In the best way, I promise. I just need…” I trail off.
“I know what you need. Put me inside of you.” Lifting off of him, just a little bit, I grip his cock
and stroke him off while I glide my pussy over him. “Fuck, Patience. That’s exactly what I am lacking
right now. Put. Me. Inside. You. Now,” he growls. I smirk at him and stroke him slowly, desperately,
one, two, three more times before I do as I was told and position him at my entrance. Then I slide
down his shaft slowly. So slowly. Any and everything to prolong this. His hands make their way back
to my hips. He grips them tightly. When he’s balls deep inside of me, I begin to move. I alternate
bouncing and grinding on him. I tug on my nipples before sliding my hand down to my pussy. I rub my
clit in time with my bounces. His eyes widen and I smirk at him. Despite never having done this
before, the only thing I do in my spare time besides hitting the gym is read romance novels. If I’m not
reading them, I am listening to them. I’ve retained a lot of knowledge from those delicious bitches.
Feeling bold, I take my pussy juice covered hand and reach behind me and rub his balls.
“God, this feels amazing,” I moan. His hand tighten on my hips.
“Hell yes it does,” he agrees. “Come for me, Patience. Let me see you let go.” He removes one
hand from my hip and rubs my clit, sending me right over the edge.
“Logan, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” I cry, over and over until I feel him fill me again. As soon as he
does, I drop down on him. Satisfaction hums through my body as I try to catch my breath. His hands
wrap around my back, and I snuggle into his chest.
“Patience?” he asks after a while. I pop my head up and look at him.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for giving yourself to me. I will always honor that gift.” I smile at him and moan as I
scoot forward to meet his lips. “Shit, duchess. You’re going to be the death of me.”
“That is most ardently not what I want,” I tell him.
“Most ardently? I do believe your Jane Austen is showing.
“You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?”
“It was required reading in high school, but I’ve read it at least ten times since school.”
“Me too.”
“What else do you read?” he asks, stroking his strong fingers over my back. Like I can think when
he does that.
I’m in so much trouble here.
seven
LOGAN
I look at her while she thinks about my question. I don’t know how the hell I got so lucky but I’m
thanking God that I came to this club tonight. I shudder to think if she had met someone else here. She
wouldn’t be so thoroughly mine right now.
“Romance novels mostly. You?” she asks.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I also read romance novels.” She grins then, but not in a way
that she’s making fun of me.
“Really?” she says, excitedly. She moves off of me and sits on the bed with her legs crossed in
front of her. “What are you reading right now?”
“I’ve never told anyone that before. You are sworn to secrecy.”
“I would never tell anyone, Logan. I promise.” Then she makes an X over her heart. She’s
adorable. Sexy and adorable, it’s a heady combination. I move to sit up. I clasp her hand in mine and
bring it to my lips, placing a kiss on the back of her hand.
“Thank you. I am reading two, currently. One on my Kindle and one paperback.”
“Two. That’s what I do. Except one on my Kindle and one on Audible.”
“I haven’t ventured into Audible yet. So the e-book I’m reading is Stir by ChaShiree M. and the
paperback is The Duke’s Debauched Duchess by Celeste Monroe.” She claps her hands excitedly. I
get it. I might be the steamiest historical romance novel I’ve ever read.
“Really? It’s so good right? I know Celeste. It’s her penname, but you know her too, actually.”
“Are you telling me that Holly Fraser is Celeste Monroe?”
“Yes. You can’t tell anyone though. She hasn’t even told her parents.”
“She better. Isn’t being made into a movie?”
“Yes. Pre-production is already under way. Filming starts in May.” My eyes widen, realization
dawning on me.
“Are you going to be the Duchess of Stoke-on-Trent?”
“I am. It hasn’t been announced yet. That’s in April.”
“Who’s the duke?” I ask before I can stop myself. I vividly remember the scene in the apple
orchard on the ducal estate. There’s no way that’s not going to be in the movie.
“He hasn’t been cast yet. I did chemistry readings, but nothing was good enough.”
“Hmm…”
“Why?”
“No reason. Tell me what your reading,” I say, changing the subject. No one else is going to be
that fucking duke but me. My first phone call tomorrow is to my agent. I wouldn’t be the first athlete to
step in front of the camera. In fact, I was asked to be in movie last year but turned it down. Patience
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sopusointua ja toivoa kesästä, joka seuraa.