Smooth. Sexy. Irresistible.
Those qualities equal only one thing.
Big. Freaking. Trouble.
Brynne Calloway knows that anything that seems too good to be true usually is. Fenton Abbott and his cashmere voice, Adonis body, and a magnetism like no other clearly falls into that category. But what’s life without a little risk?
It was supposed to be a rebound, an uncomplicated escape from reality. But nothing ever goes as planned. Fenton turns out to be so much more … in ways Brynne never sees coming.
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About the Author:
Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own. The Exception is Adriana’s debut novel and will be released on September 18th.
Adriana lives in the Midwest with her family. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. Her favorite things include sunshine, candy, and random quotes. Please contact Adriana at www.adrianalocke.com. She loves to hear from readers.
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I pull out a cute emerald green dress. I brought a bright yellow bikini that would look really cute under it. Tossing my things around in the suitcase, I come up empty handed. Staring at my luggage, I realize I don't see any of the five bikinis I brought.
Dashing into the closet, I look on the rack where I hung the red one up from yesterday.
I spin around to see Fenton leaning against the doorframe. His blue tie is loose, his jacket missing, his hair a mussed-up, yummy mess.
"The thief," I say, hands on my hips, trying to hide my desire to wrap my legs around his waist and kiss the hell out of him.
"We have a thief?" He watches me with complete sincerity, like he has no clue what I'm talking about.
"We do. And he seems to have a penchant for my bikinis."
"Yeah," I say, traipsing over to him. "And nobody likes a thief."
"You know what else nobody likes?" He shoves off the frame and wraps his hands around my waist, lacing his fingers together in the dip at the small of my back. "Girls that can't listen."
"I’ve never been a good listener,” I sigh dramatically. “I just make things happen ... like when my bikinis get stolen, I just call the concierge and have them bring me another one up. Something skimpy and very, very sexy.”
He smacks my ass, making me yelp.
“And I charged it to your room since you stole my others. Thief."
“Did you really have them bring you another one?” he chuckles, a sinful smirk on his face. He’s trying to figure out how to handle me, yet still get his way.
“No,” I give in, as his lips find the crook of my neck. “But I hadn’t ruled it out.”
"You're going to make me crazy, you know that?" He brushes his lips to mine and, in a split second, has me forgetting all about the bikinis. I’m focused solely on getting him out of his suit.
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