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Prologue: No More Bad Boys

Amie

I scan the roo for familiar faces—anyone in h to strike up menial conversation with As I perform my visual sweep, I note a small cluster of men at three o’clock The cluster effect isn’t unusual This entire party isfake s interest in conversations, the other half using it as a means to conduct business under the influence of alcohol

My gaze snags and catches on one ed in his se atin my direction He’s dressed like every other man in this rooh cheekbones that belong to ajaw, plush lips, perfect nose, eyes framed with thick lashes His dark hair is cut short and styled in a way that reminds me of a 1950s mobster Clean cut, refined, exactly the opposite of my usual type

I keepin to the urge to fidget

After what feels like far too ed eye contact, the sah le I look overat so intently Behind roup of women in their fifties, so unless he’s into MILFs, I’m the focus of his attention

A s white teeth and popping a di in my direction I don’t think I know hieous As he closes in onshade of blue, ainst the dark hair His patterned tie matches his eyes I’m sure it’s purposeful

He stops when he’s just inside my personal space, the tiniest bit too close to be perfectly corows, his di my face with an expression I can’t quite read

“Hi” His voice is a gentle caress that begins at the column of my throat and travels down my body, all the way to the sensitive place at the back of my knee

“Hi” I break the eye contact for a moment, unnerved by his intensity I take in the rest of hi ine there’s definition under that suit based on the tapered waist His dress shoes are two-tone black and white brogues, as if he’s flipping off the pretension of this party with his choice of footwear

He chuckles softly, bringingit to the side as his grin becomes sheepish “I’ton” He extends a manicured hand

“I’h the intensity At least until I slip y that floods my body forces me to suppress a shudder

He envelopes my hand in both of his “Amalie That’s a beautiful na woman in the roo intoI’m very pleased that isn’t the case”

Is this guy for real? “I’m sorry, what?”

He bites his lip and drops his gaze, al that s is part of an act

Hehis hand “You’re a knockout Where’s your date?” Subtle He’s a , that’s for sure

“Um, I don’t have a date”

“Fantastic Hard to believe, but great news for me” He lifts my hand and bends his head The cuff of his shirt pulls up, exposing a sliver of colorful ink at his wrist Maybe he’s not quite as clean cut as I first assuo off in my head as his soft, warm lips brush the back of my hand

The electric snap of lust hasmy hand away My h, but it’s a needy sound I don’t knohat else to do, so I take a sip fro in the bottom

“Let et you a drink,” he offers

“Uh”

“I’ you to marry me, yet” He winks “Just have a drink withyou out It’ll be fun for both of us”