Our Two-Week, One-Night Stand , livre ebook

4 Horsemen Publications, Inc. - Mimi Francis

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80 pages

English

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Description

One night turns into two weeks when their worlds unexpectedly collide.

Cecily Devereaux knows better than anyone that being the daughter of a billionaire can make it hard to trust people. Every relationship she’s ever been in turned out to be nothing more than an attempt to get her father’s money, and after a failed engagement, she vows to stay away from commitment. Shifting her focus to enjoying herself, she finds satisfaction in one night stands, defying her father’s demands, and spending time in her adopted hometown of Lakeside, Montana. Cecily doesn't need anything else. Until Lincoln Dunn strolls into her life.

With no business to run, no woman in his life, and nothing tying him down, Lincoln Dunn is at a crossroads. He’s free to do whatever he wants in New York City and that is exactly what he is doing. Uninterested in relationships, he runs through women with no regrets. Tourist Cecily Devereaux is just supposed to be one of those women … until he comes to Lakeside and finds her again.

In the third installment to the Lovers of Lakeside series, two complicated people who aren’t looking for love fall into a sexy, steamy relationship. When feelings neither of them want to face come to the surface, which one of them will admit their feelings first?

Sujets

men

contemporary

Romance

Fiction

Informations

Publié par	4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Date de parution	29 décembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	1
EAN13	9798823200271
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0350€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Table o f Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Book Club Questions:

Our Two-Week, One-Nig ht Stand
Copyright © 2022 Mimi Francis. All rights r eserved.

4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover and Typeset by S . Wilder
Editor Bla ir Parke
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is book is meant as a reference guide. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belongs to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or pu blisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 22943590
Print ISBN: 979-8-823 2-0017-2
Ebook ISBN: 979-8-823 2-0027-1
Audio ISBN: 979-8-823 2-0016-5

Dedication
T his one is for DeDe. Thank you for being the best mother-in-law in the world. I miss you every day.

Chapter 1
Cecily
C ecily stared out the window. She hated New York, hated it. She didn’t understand why her father insisted she accompany him on his annual trip to the Big Apple. They spent no time together outside of the office, and they didn’t talk when they were together anyway. Since her breakup with Lawrence, her father barely spoke to her. His disappointment was palpable and hurtful. She couldn’t even bring Sebastian to keep her company. But worse than any of that, her father wouldn’t allow her to join him at the board meetings, insisting she wait in his office. Her position in the company—director of company events—didn’t require a seat at his board meetings.
Honestly, she was nothing more than a glorified party planner for the company, so coming to New York was a waste of time for Cecily. Behind her, Claude Devereaux, her father, dropped his pen and shoved himself away from his desk. “Have the proposal for the acquisition party on my desk by the time I come back. I want to look it over.” His indignant tone mixed with the thickness of his French accent signaled his irritation with her.
Cecily put a smile on her face and turned away from the window. “Of course, Daddy.” She took a step toward the door her father was walking toward. “I would love to go with you to the board meeting.”
“You’re not ready for that kind of responsibility yet, princess,” Claude Dever eaux said.
“I’m thirty years old, Daddy, with an MBA in business from Stanford. When exactly am I going to be ready?”
“I’m not having this discussion again, Cecily.” He straightened his jacke t and tie.
“At least let me go to the board meeting with you. You never know, I might have some ideas worth talki ng about.”
“There’s no need to attend today’s meeting. We’re discussing cybersecurity and meeting with the firm that helped us set up the firewalls and safeguards. Nothing to worry yourse lf about.”
“Daddy, if you would give me a chance—”
Claude forcefully interrupted Cecily. “Enough, Cecily. My business is very important to me. I won’t entrust it to jus t anyone.”
“But I’m your daughter. No one knows the company or the business like I do. I’m the perfect person to trust. When are you going to real ize that?”
Her father rolled his eyes and left without answering her. Cecily paced the room like a caged animal, back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the skyline she hated.
Six years of college and an MBA, all for nothing because her father would never allow her to run his company. She wasn’t the son he’d always wanted so he’d pinned his hopes on a son-in-law, but Cecily crushed those dreams when she dumped Lawrence. Claude pinned all his hopes on Lawrence, the first boyfriend Cecily ever had that her father liked. This was another point of contention between them. No matter how hard she worked or how much she begged, Devereaux Industries was forever out of her reach.
Cecily snatched her purse off the chair and headed for the elevators. She wanted a drink some place where her father wasn’t. Outside, she hailed a taxi and asked the driver to take her to the closest bar, where she’d drown her sorrows in vodka martinis.

The bar was a little more than half full when Cecily walked in. She pushed through the crowd, nodding and smiling, as she made her way to a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. She smiled gratefully at the bartender when he set her vodka martini in front of her. A sigh of relief escaped her when the cool liquor slid down h er throat.
Cecily watched the five o’clock, after work crowd fill the dance floor, as her foot tapped with the thumping beat of the music. When a cute guy asked her to dance, she readily agreed. It had been too long since she’d had any fun. If Cecily had to be in this godforsaken city, she could at least enjo y herself.
Hours passed; the sun set, and the dark bar grew darker. She lost track of how many songs she danced to and how many drinks she had. Free of her father’s disapproving glares and archaic ideas—if only for a little while—Cecily let h erself go.
Suddenly, a man drew her eye as soon as he walked through the door. He was tall, maybe 6’3”, blond, muscular, mid-thirties, and drop-dead gorgeous in a Captain America-kind of way. Tight jeans clung to his thick thighs and a black leather jacket covered his bulging arms and broad shoulders. Both the men and the women stared at him, stopping in their tracks with their mouths hanging open to stare at the blond god making his way across the room. The crowd split to let him pass, and he walked right through them like he owned the place. He yanked his jacket off and sat at the corner o f the bar.
Cecily kept an eye on him as she danced until the crowd grew and merged in front of her, obscuring her view. She danced for a few more minutes before making her way to the edge of the dance floor. He stared at her, and heat flooded her cheeks. Eyes downcast, she eased into her seat on the opposite side of the bar. When Cecily looked up, she looked right into a pair of gorgeous dark blue eyes. Nerves overtook her, and she looked away. She caught the bartender’s attention and ordered anot her drink.
“Put her drink on my tab.” His voice was deep, one of those voices you never tired of hearing. He stood beside her chair, close enough that she could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave and see the rippling muscles under his shirt. Cecily couldn’t stop stari ng at him.
He was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Even though he stood well over six feet, he moved with cat-like grace and ease. He had broad shoulders that tapered down to a tiny, tight waist, where she could see his well-toned abs through his too-small shirt. He pushed a hand through his short blond hair as his cobalt blue eyes danced over her.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her. One side of his mouth pulled up in a sexy, little smirk and in that moment, Cecily knew exactly how her evening would end.
She hadn’t expected to meet someone, not in New York, but she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It would only be for one night, like the other men she’d slept with during the last few months. She would talk to this guy and have some fun, maybe a lot of fun if the evening went as she hoped.
“Not at all.” She held out her hand. “My name i s Cecily.”
“Nice to meet you, Cecily.” The smirk grew into a grin. “I’m Lincoln.” His large hand encompassed hers. He held it longer than necessary, squeezing it before rele asing it.
Lincoln sat on the stool beside her, and they chatted for a few minutes about nothing important while they sipped their drinks: the weather, the crowd in the bar, and the score of the Mets game playing on t he bar TV.
The music swelled, and an upbeat song she loved pumped through the speakers in the corner. Cecily swayed side to side, her foot tapping. “What do you say we dance?”
Lincoln laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know; I’m not much of a dancer.”
Cecily stood up and grabbed his hand. “You’ve never danced with me. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
He shrugged, set his beer on the bar, and let her lead him by the hand to the dance floor. She took his hands, placed them on her hips, and eased closer to him. She took a deep breath and shimmied to the music, sidling closer to Lincoln and letting the music control her movements.
Lincoln stood in front of her, stiff and unmoving. He squeezed her hips so hard , it hurt.
“Relax, Lincoln.”
“I’m not so good at this,” he muttered. “Are you sure about this? Maybe we should go back and sit down.”
Cecily laughed, pushed up on her toes, and pressed her lips to Lincoln’s ear. “Shut up and dance with me.”
Lincoln gulped and pulled her tight against his body, his focus on her and her alone. He squeezed her hips again as she wiggled against him. He bit his lip, and a faint blush colored h is cheeks.
Despite his reluctance, Cecily kept Lincoln on the dance floor for sev