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Velvet Devil Novel Cover

Velvet Devil

It's the first look on my wedding day. I turn... but my husband isn't there. Instead, I see the stranger who ruined my life. Here's the story: Six years ago, I was on the worst first date in history. A blind date with some jerk who wouldn't take no for an answer. The handsome stranger swooped in. Saved me. And sat down to finish the date. I thought it was crazy. But we had insane chemistry. We got to talking, one thing led to another, we ended up in the restaurant bathroom, and... You know. I got pregnant. He disappeared. Life: ruined. I tried to move on. For six years, I thought I succeeded. But now, out of nowhere, he's back--on my wedding day, of all days. Saying things that don't make any sense. "Your fiancé isn't who you thought he was... I'm not letting you marry him..." And, worst of all... "You're marrying me instead."
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Chapter 3

The man in the suit slides gracefully into Reggie's vacated seat. My stomach does a backflip as his gaze rakes over me.

It's so strange-when Reggie glanced at my cleavage, I felt creeped out. But when this man does the exact same thing, I clench up from head to toe like I just stuck a fork in a wall socket.

"He's gone," I sigh. "Thank you for that."

"My pleasure."

I shuffle my feet under the table, feeling extremely self-conscious. Everything about him screams "sex appeal." Even the way his lips form the word "pleasure" feels like foreplay.

"Were you eavesdropping on me?" I ask. The silence is too much to bear.

He nods solemnly. "Of course."

"Why?"

"Because you caught my attention, kiska."

"I can't imagine why."

He nods, his expression growing thoughtful. "That makes two of us."

After about five seconds of another very pregnant silence, I clear my throat. "Well, thank you again for rescuing me. But I should, you know, head back now..."

Of course, that exact moment is when the waiter arrives with the drinks Reggie had ordered for us. "Sorry for the delay, ma'am," she says, setting the drinks down on the table.

"Head back? It would be a shame to waste a good drink," the man in the suit remarks.

Brianna's words flash through my head again. You're not even giving him a chance. When was the last time you were attracted to any man?

One thing is very obvious: this man does it for me. And she's right-I've spent years hiding from everyone with a Y chromosome.

This guy is here. He's hot. And he's looking at me like he wants to swallow me whole.

"Okay," I concede guiltily. "One drink. But first, tell me your name."

He grins and leans forward. "My name is Isaak," he says. "Isaak Vorobev."

2

ISAAK

"Your turn," I say.

"Huh?" She wrinkles her nose in confusion. It's an adorable quirk, and so utterly unfamiliar to me that I almost laugh out loud.

The women I usually fuck don't wrinkle their noses. They purr, they smile, they stroke your arm seductively. They know their power and how to use it.

This girl? She doesn't have a fucking clue.

But maybe that's why I'm here with her, instead of in bed with any of the other dozens of playthings at my disposal.

"Tell me your name," I explain. "I heard 'Cami.' I want to know all of it."

"Oh." She blushes. Again, fucking adorable. "Right. Cami. Short for Camila. Camila Ferrara."

"You prefer Camila?"

The dress she's wearing is simple but it hugs her figure deliciously. Her cleavage is subtle, almost teasing. I'd already imagined ripping down the neckline numerous times during my business meeting. The one I bailed on to come over here and rescue her from her idiot date.

"My family and friends call me Cami," she mumbles.

"Cami it is. After all, we did grow up next to each other."

She smiles. That's when I notice the dimple on her right cheek. Such an innocent little kiska, I think to myself. Kiska-Russian for kitten. A tiny, helpless little creature begging to be devoured. The name suits her.

I lean back in my seat and adjust my pants-mostly because my throbbing erection is starting to get distracting.

"You really didn't have to do that," she says. "Save me, I mean."

"As I said, it was my pleasure."

She cocks her head to the side. A spray of glossy blonde hair falls across one shoulder. "Do you make a habit of saving every stranger who looks like they're having a miserable time?"

"Only the beautiful ones."

She blushes and looks down nervously in her lap.

"You must've known what you were getting into the second he asked you out," I chuckle. "Based on the way he slinked to the exit, I'm surprised he had the balls to ask in the first place."

"He didn't ask," she says. "Not exactly."

I arch my eyebrow. "Explain."

"Well, what I mean is, he's been interested for a while and he kept asking my brother-in-law if I'd go out with him-"

"He sent a messenger boy to ask you on a date?"

I can't hide my disgust.

"He didn't want to make things awkward in case I said no."

"That's a coward's way out."

"I thought it was thoughtful."

"Then you need to raise your standards."

She recoils. "You realize we only met five minutes ago, right?"

I shrug, unfazed. "Good advice is good advice."

"What a gentleman you are," she sneers.

I chuckle and take a sip of the wine her date ordered. All things considered, it's not the worst selection in the world. "I've been accused of many things, kiska. But never that."

Her laughter is nervous. "I get the feeling you're not kidding."

"You deserve a man. Not a fucking fool who can't even pick up the bill."

She bristles at that. "I can pay my own way perfectly fine. Not every damsel is in distress, you know."

"No," I murmur with a smirk. "Some are in denial."

Her lips move silently for a moment like she can't think of a retort. But the blush on her cheeks is persistent.

As is my throbbing cock.

"If I've insulted you, I can always have Reggie brought back here," I suggest after a moment has passed. "You can finish your drink with him instead. Maybe even get dessert. I hear the crème brûlée is to die for."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You're wrong about that, kiska," I laugh. "I'd dare to do things you've never even dreamed of."

"You're not kidding about that either, are you?"

"No. Not in the slightest." I lean forward instinctively. Her lips are pursed and full. I want them wrapped around my cock. "Does that frighten you, Cami?"

"Oh, gee, am I that easy to read?" she retorts sarcastically.

"I'll tell you at the end of the night."

"Do you always speak in riddles?" Cami snaps. "Or are you just really leaning in to the whole 'handsome, mysterious stranger' deal?"

I chuckle and swirl the wine in the glass. "Did you just say I'm handsome?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know you're handsome."

"Fair enough. No woman has ever complained."

"She'd have to be blind."

The energy between us has grown prickly and dangerous now. I wonder if she can feel it the way I can. Based on the way she clears her throat and stiffens her posture, I'm guessing the answer is yes.

I lean back in my seat and study her. "What do you like to do, Cami?"

"You mean besides go tit-for-tat with arrogant men in expensive suits?"

I shrug. "Everyone has a hobby."

"Let me assure you that this is not mine," she says solemnly. "This is very much a first time thing for me, you know."

"You've never been on a date before?"

"I've never abandoned one bad date for another, wise guy," she says, though she can't help but giggle. The sound is enough to drive a man crazy with lust. I have to adjust my cock again where it's straining at the zipper of my pants.

"And here I was, thinking we were getting along well," I drawl.

"Sorry to burst your bubble."

"You can make it up to me," I say coolly.

She wrinkles her nose again. It's bizarre how much that tiny little motion affects me. Like hooking up jumper cables to my balls. It makes me want to see what other faces she makes.

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