 by Carly Phillips.jpg)
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
One sassy-sweet supermodel.
Add in a tropical private island paradise.
What could go wrong?
As owner and CEO of Dirty Dare Spirits, thirty-three year old, Asher Dare has it all. Money. Power. Women whenever he wants. A private island retreat when he doesn’t. People he trusts? He can count those on one hand. When one of his best friends asks a favor—hide his twenty-one year old, supermodel sister, on the island until a scandal blows over—Asher can’t say no. But he doesn’t have to like it.
The daughter of a Senator and a Presidential candidate, Nicolette Bettencourt always acts with decorum. Yet through no fault of her own, scandal seems to follow her every move. When nude photos surface, the uproar puts her father’s campaign at risk. And forces her into hiding with Asher, the hottest—and grumpiest—billionaire she’s ever met.
Under soothing tropical breezes, Asher discovers that Nicolette is nothing like the spoiled brat portrayed in the tabloids. She’s warm, sexy, and a temptation Asher must resist at all costs—or he risks betraying his closest friend, bringing a powerful political dynasty to its knees… and losing the woman he loves.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Nicolette Bettencourt woke up and reached for her cell phone. She set the ringer and notifications on silent at night and checked her email and texts first thing in the morning. As soon as she turned on her phone, the messages and notifications popped up so fast she couldn’t keep up.
She pushed herself up and focused on a message from her modeling agent, Amelia Mitchell: Open this and call me immediately. You’re all over the internet.
Nikki looked at the link to the biggest tabloid site, one known for breaking the hottest stories in celebrity and entertainment news, and her stomach pitched. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
She clicked and studied the photo on the screen, trying to process what she saw. It was her bedroom, with the familiar chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the twin floral framed photos on the wall above the headboard, and the domed smart light on the right nightstand because Nikki found it difficult to wake up on workdays. What the hell?
Her pale pink duvet lay rumpled on one side of the bed, and then she took in the part she’d avoided looking at until now, the female lying asleep on the other side. Nikki tried but found it impossible to swallow. Heart pounding, she enlarged the picture, even though she already knew. She was the girl naked in bed, her ass exposed for the world to see. But how?
Nauseous, she scrolled lower only to find another photo of herself, her hair pulled up into a messy bun, her face visible as she slept on her back. Censorship bars covered her private parts but she was naked nonetheless. Shame washed over her and she started to tremble.
How had someone taken photos of her in her own home? Tears filled her eyes, and she glanced down at her nude body—because that’s how she slept… when she slept—and freaked out. She jumped out of bed, grabbed the silk robe slung over the footboard, and wrapped the material around herself, shaking as she tied the sash tight around her waist.
She felt exposed, violated, and utterly petrified.
She wasn’t ready to talk to her agent or anyone else for that matter. She scrolled through her phone, seeing her mother had called no less than a dozen times. Her parents would be furious, worried about how this would impact her senator father’s potential presidential campaign.
Any other twenty-one-year-old girl would call a friend, but Nikki didn’t have anyone she trusted completely. The closest person to her was Megan Cologne, another model. But Meg wasn’t the warm-fuzzy type, and Nikki needed someone to comfort her, not gloat. Meg was the gloating type.
Her doorbell rang and she froze. She couldn’t face anyone. Not now. Then she remembered the doorman would only let a select few people come up without calling. People she could handle seeing.
Pulling her robe tighter, she walked into the main area of her apartment and tiptoed to the door.
Someone banged again and rang the bell. “Come on, Nikki. Let me in.”
She let out a breath of relief and opened the door. “Derek!” She fell into her big brother’s arms, not bothering to hold back choking sobs.
“Come on.” He wrapped an arm around her and walked them inside, shutting the door and locking it behind them. “I don’t have to ask if you’re okay but how did this happen? How were pictures like that taken and exposed?”
She pushed herself out of his embrace. “I don’t know, okay? I admit I sleep naked but nobody’s been here!”
“No guys? Boyfriends or otherwise?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not since Lance Freeman. That was six months ago.” Her ex-boyfriend was a photographer she’d met through her modeling career.