Excerpt Reveal: First Touch by Laurelin Paige
Now available for Pre-order!
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REEVE IS COMING!
Meet Reeve & Emily in First Touch
releasing December 29th!
When Emily Wayborn goes home to visit
her mom while on hiatus from her hit TV show, she receives a
voicemail from her former best friend, Amber. Though the two were
once notorious party girls, they haven't spoken in years. Although
the message might sound benign to anyone else, Amber uses a safe word
that Emily recognizes, a word they always used to get out of sticky
situations during their wild days. And what's more chilling than the
voicemail: it turns out that Amber has gone missing.
Determined to track down her friend,
Emily follows a chain of clues that lead her to the enigmatic
billionaire Reeve Sallis, a hotelier known for his shady dealings and
play boy reputation. Now, in order to find Amber, Emily must seduce
Reeve to learn his secrets and discover the whereabouts of her
friend. But as she finds herself more entangled with him, she finds
she's drawn to Reeve for more than just his connection to Amber,
despite her growing fear that he may be the enemy. When she's forced
to choose where her loyalty lies, how will she decide between saving
Amber and saving her heart?
The room began to close in around me,
blanketing me with acute heaviness. I drained my champagne in one
swallow then set it on a waiter’s tray as I pushed through the
crowd and out to the overflow area that had been set up in the
parking lot. Once the chill night breeze hit me, I gasped in a deep
breath, swallowing the air in long gulps, as though I’d been
underwater and had finally reached the surface.
With Amber, I’d been a glorified
hooker. In Hollywood, wasn’t I pretty much the same thing? I’d
simply left one bed to move to another. I chuckled at the paradox. It
deserved a laugh, at least.
Footsteps sounded behind me, and I
stifled the last bit of humor threatening to escape. Without looking
over my shoulder, I felt the air change. The hair at the back of my
neck bristled and the sting of electricity huddled around me.
I turned, somehow knowing what I’d
find—who I’d find.
He leaned against the concrete
doorframe watching me with eyes that pinned me in my place. He was
captivating and magnificent, his tux fitting him better than clothing
had the right to fit a person, better than any one of the pretty men
that filled the room beyond him. Those men, my peers, they were a sea
of beautiful—calm and serene. Reeve was the ocean, dark and
commanding and turbulent. They moved in gentle waves. Reeve stood
still and set the world crashing around him.
That easily, the breath I’d just
managed to get under control was knocked from my lungs.
He spoke before I could regain my
composure. “What a coincidence that you’d be at the same event
that I’m at.”
The boldness of his accusation shocked
me into response. “I’m not following you, if that’s what you’re
insinuating.” My pulse fluttered in fear, in excitement. In
irritation. I didn’t like the way he agitated me. Maybe I’d
deserved it at his resort, but this? This was my turf.
With a surprising display of
fierceness, I locked my eyes to his. “I’m the one who belongs at
this event. Not you.”
He laughed and the sound of it fueled
my indignation. It also sent heat rushing up my thighs, heat that
turned my rage inward as well as out.
Hands in his pockets, Reeve stepped
toward me. “Calm down, Emily. I was only teasing. Of course you
aren’t here because of me. Perhaps, I’m here because of you.”
He paused long enough for panic to jolt through me with reminders of
the ominous words he’d delivered to me the last time we’d seen
each other. “Perhaps, this time I’m the one who’s examining.”
My anger stepped up another notch,
overwhelming my unease. “Examining me? Like, why—to scare me? To
see if I’m as fun to mess with when you’re outside the home
field? How dare you? Come here, into my world and prod at me just
because you feel like it. Proceed to make it your playground. How
dare you?”
His lip curved into a chiding smile.
“Now you know how I felt.”
I refused to acknowledge my
humiliation, though the flush that swept down my neck more than
likely gave it away. “Thank you for the lesson, Mr. Sallis,” I
said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I assure you that I have more
than gotten the point. You won’t be having to give me any further
demonstrations.” I started toward the venue doors, praying I could
manage the walk. High heels and weak knees did not make for a good
combination.
I circled widely around him, wanting to
keep as much distance between us as possible. But I could still feel
the warmth pulsating off him like the driving beat of a dance club.
It trembled through me, coming up from the ground, shaking me,
gripping me. I fought through it, forced myself past him.
“Emily.” His address caught me
mid-stride. Five more feet and I’d be back in the Expo. Just a few
more steps…
I couldn’t help myself—I stayed. I
didn’t turn toward him, though. That was my single act of
restraint.
“What I did to you at the spa—”His
voice was silk and stubble all at once. The texture of the sound, as
much as the mention of the spa, was bait on a hook. I practically
leaned into his next words. “It wasn’t very nice.”
I spun toward him. “You think?”
“I like my privacy. I was mad.” It
wasn’t an explanation so much as it was a reminder. You provoked
me, he was saying. You deserved it.
“So you made me think you wanted to
kill me?” Admittedly, I had earned his admonishment. I hadn’t
earned a death threat.
“Eh. I never said I wanted—”
I cut him off with a point of my
finger. “You did. In every way you could without the specific
words.”
He opened his mouth as if to defend
himself further. Then his expression changed, his features darkened,
his eyes gleamed. “Did it scare you?”
“What do you think?” A shiver ran
down my spine. He knew he’d scared me. It had been his intent to
rile me up, make me afraid. What I hadn’t realized was how much he
liked that he had.
Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall
Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed
Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime
there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters.
Her husband doesn't seem to complain, however. When she isn't reading
or writing sexy stories, she's probably singing, watching Game of
Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender.
She's also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn't
do anything with the organization except use it as material for her
bio.
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