A Playboy's Love Affair
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
A Playboy’s
Love Affair
by
Emily Quinn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
A Playboy’s Love Affair
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Emily Quinn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
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Publishing History
First Champagne Rose Edition, 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-858-5
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my family for encouraging me to pursue my dream.
To my friend, Sara, for her beta-reading insight,
and to my editor, Cindy,
for pointing out my favorite word.
Chapter One
Getting hitched wasn’t one of his priorities. In fact, marriage wasn’t even on his life’s must-do list, he had zero interest in it. Alex St. Jones chuckled. “Paul’s such a fool. He’s all domesticated and shit now. Un-freaking believable!”
“Kiera has him wrapped around her little finger. I never imagined Paul giving up his freedom,” Dominic replied.
“Yeah, I didn’t see that one coming. Are you gonna give it up too?” Alex asked.
“What?”
“Your freedom, you fool.” Alex slapped him on the back.
Dominic’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Me? Hell no. Tell you what. I’ll give it up if you do.”
Alex suppressed a laugh. “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? I have no interest in getting shackled. My love affair is my freedom. You know my rule.”
“Enchant them. Seduce them. Leave them,” Alex and Dominic said in unison.
“Cheers, man!” Alex clinked his champagne flute with Dominic’s and took his leave. He’d never intended to attend tonight’s gala, but his friends had insisted. After all he couldn’t miss their architectural firm’s ten-year anniversary; the truth was, he didn’t give a damn.
Alex strolled around the ballroom studying every exquisite detail Kiera had seen to, the woman turned what should’ve been a simple ten-year anniversary into a black tie gala. God, but she had his friend wrapped around her little finger; it was ridiculous. Love was ridiculous. How his friend had fallen under that spell and given up his valuable freedom was a mystery—and more the reason why Alex had resolved to remain single. He’d never actually say he wouldn’t get married, because that would mean he would. He’d seen it happen time and again, every guy he’d ever met who’d said he was never getting married ended up getting shackled sooner or later. Not him, though. He’d never say those exact words. Alex was content simply by expressing zero interest. He wasn’t looking for love.
His gaze moved from the decorations to the women in attendance. Alex regarded them from head to toe. Who would he take home tonight? His eyes searched the room once more and as no one caught his attention, he made his way out of Paul’s mansion and headed to the lavish garden.
Alex walked through a stunningly tall garden arbor, admiring the beautiful roses clambering up its sides. He came to a halt at its end, and closed his eyes as he slowly inhaled the tranquility mixed in the rose sweet-smelling cool night air. Instinct told him he wasn’t alone, and was glad to see his gut feeling never failed him. His gaze followed a path leading up to a woman in a midnight blue gown, standing under a timeless giant tree a few steps away from him.
“Trying to get away?” the mysterious woman purred, coming out of the shadows with a cat-like walk.
He nodded. His gaze traveled the length of her body, and his hands itched to touch her long chocolate waves resting on her left shoulder.
“I don’t blame you.” She lifted her hand offering him the bottle of wine she’d been drinking from. “Alex St. Jones, is it?” Her moonlit cosmic green eyes met his caramel brown moss.
Alex was sure he’d never crossed paths with this woman before tonight. “And you are?” He puckered his brow in inquiry. He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear she knew who he was, but he was. Alex had yet to meet a woman who claimed she’d never heard of the St. Joneses. He didn’t know whether he owed a “thank you” to his wealthy-as-sin dad or not.
“Carly Mitchell… Are you going to have some wine or should I just do the deed myself?” Her upper lip curled showing straight pearl white teeth. “I certainly don’t mind.”
Alex grabbed the bottle of wine from her and took a long sip. “Who are you trying to get away from?”
“My ex.” Carly rolled her eyes.
“Your ex?” His gaze drifted around them.
“Yes. He’s an asshole. In fact, all men are, don’t you think?” She ran her hands over her dress, adjusting what seemed to be out of place, except Alex couldn’t see what it was because she looked perfect.
Alex regarded her for a second before he replied, “I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong guy. I’m an asshole.” He took another drink from the bottle of wine, contemplating the way her gown accentuated her perfect curves.
She took the bottle back from him. “So, who are you trying to get away from?”
He grinned, running a hand through his silky cracked pepper hair. “From no one and everyone.”
She took another sip of wine. “That’s good…”
Silence settled for what felt like minutes when it really was only a few seconds as they stood staring at each other. Carly twisted her head around breaking the spell, focusing her gaze out in the distance. “Oh God…You’ve got to be kidding me.” She swirled back around to face him. “Kiss me!”
“Wha… What?” Had he heard right? He stared in the direction she’d looked at and spotted a trio of men closing in on them but he couldn’t make out their faces.
“You heard me. Kiss me!” Carly demanded.
Alex raised his brow. “Sweetheart…I’m not going to kiss you.” He’d been prepared to start the seduction and execution of his one and only rule. The last thing he expected was for his prey to make demands. Alex didn’t know what game she played, but he wasn’t interested in finding out. Oh no. He enjoyed playing the field but was always careful with whom he engaged. There hadn’t yet been a woman who wasn’t after his fortune—well, and whatever fortune he’d inherit from his dad.
“I’m going to ask you one last time. Kiss me!” She took a step toward him, closing the distance.
“That’s not asking, that’s demanding,” he replied. No one ever demanded anything from him. Alex would never do a woman’s bidding, especially not one coming from the stranger standing in front of him.
“Dammit, Alexander St. Jones, kiss me right now or I’ll kiss you!”
“Darling, do you really know who you’re talking to? If you want me to kiss you, you have to play the game my way, not—”
Carly flung her arms around his neck and covered his mouth with hers.
Alex placed a tentative hand on the small of her back without missing the way her soft body molded to his. Her body fit his just right, like his perfect other half, she felt too good and there was no way he’d push her away so he kissed her back.
Alex drank from her mouth, tasting the mix of blackberries and vanilla still lingering from the bottle of wine they’d shared. Carly tasted like dessert—his dessert. A groan escaped him when she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. He obliged, and captured her waist with his hands. Alex let himself drown little by little in her kiss, then his senses kicked in and he tried to gain control but it was a minute too late, Carly broke their kiss.
“Thank you,” she whispered, taking three steps back. Her gaze met his one last time before she turned and fled.
Alex stood there, immobile, as her retreating back disappeared into the night. He shook his head in an effort to get himself out of his state of bewilderment.
What had just happened? Where had she come from? Who was she? All these questions and no one to answer them. Asking Paul or Dominic about his midnight temptress was a definite no-no. Damn, damn, damn.
Chapter Two
Tonight was the night. Carly didn’t know how Matt would take it but this was it. She’d made her decision, come hell or high water their engagement was no more. Her thoughts must’ve conjured him because he walked into her place just then.
“Hey,” Matt said, wearing a smile from ear to ear as he made his way to her.
“Hey.” Carly anticipated he’d want to kiss her, so she took a few steps back and stood by an accent chair opposite the designer couch in her living room.
Matt sensed her intention when she moved because his smile slowly faded and instead of walking directly to her, he stood by the couch. “Honey, listen. We need to talk.” He placed his left hand on his neck, rubbing it while his eyes searched her place.
“Matt, there’s no need for an explanation.”
Matt focused on Carly right then. If she didn’t know him any better she’d have thought he looked hopeful, but his wasn’t a hopeful look. The expression in his face was one of relief.
What a jerk! Did he think she was going to let him off the hook? His attitude only made her resolve stronger. “I’ll make this easy for us both. It’s over.” She moved to the coffee table between them, and placed on top of it her four-carat engagement ring.
Matt’s features twisted in confusion, baring his teeth in anger. “Wh-what do you mean it’s over?” he asked, attempting to close the distance between them, but stopped as Carly raised her hand, indicating him to stay put. “You can’t mean it. We’ve been together for three years. You can’t certainly throw that away and start over, can you?”
“Yes I can, and so can you,” she said.
“Come on babe, our wedding is nine months away. I’m sure we can work this out. We can make it work.” He took a step toward her. “Listen, if this is about that misunderstanding with Karen at the gala last night…”
“Matt, you know very well there wasn’t a misunderstanding. There isn’t a misunderstanding.” Carly moved away from him. “It doesn’t matter to me if you have something going on with Karen or not. It should, but it doesn’t. However, it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the fact that you cheated, that you lied to me. I’d have appreciated it if you’d come forward and broken things up between us.”
“Baby, you don’t mean that.” Matt made a move in her direction, but froze when Carly’s hard-as-steel eyes locked him in place.
“Don’t you baby me, Matthew Bolerjack! You know this…” She gestured with her hand between them. “This hasn’t been working for a very long time. We’ve grown out of this relationship and can’t make it work because we’d simply fail. Try to make it work with Karen. Or, why don’t you give yourself some time, wouldn’t that be nice?”
Matt let out a heavy sigh at her words and looked around her living room as if searching for the right response. “You say, work it out with Karen or give myself time? Why? So you can mess around with your new friend, Alexander St. Jones?” he replied, his gaze zeroing back on Carly.
Oh, he hadn’t just gone there. “Why, yes! He’s a thousand times a better lover than you.” The words were out of her mouth before she could think about them but she didn’t care. Matt would never know it was a lie. It wasn’t as if he’d go confront Alex to defend her honor, or would he? No, of course he wouldn’t, the thought of that alone was almost comical. Carly had said it out of spite, and as hurtful as the lie sounded, it’d helped to stop the argument right then and there.
Matt’s baffled expression frozen in time was priceless. His gaze traveled to the engagement ring sitting on top of the coffee table, and back at her. “Keep the ring as a souvenir.”
“I don’t want a souvenir.”
“Then give it away, I don’t care.”
“No problem. I’ll donate it to a good cause. Maybe I’ll publish a media announcement too.” Carly waved her hands. “Matthew Bolerjack’s fiancée donated her four-carat engagement ring to a good cause after finding her fiancé with his pants down with none other than his own assistant. It sounds great, doesn’t it?”