Too Good to Be True Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
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Now, he was taking me seriously.

He held an arm out toward the hall that led to the Pearl Room.

I only approached him and fell in step beside him when he started talking.

“There’s a lot to that story that isn’t on Wikipedia.”

“And that would be?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because Dorothy was having an affair with David. She was also having an affair with William, David’s younger brother.”

“Oh my,” I mumbled.

Tangled web.

And it would seem for Dorothy, poisonous spiders.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “It’s my understanding you’ve already seen the Pearl Room?”

“Yes.”

He walked us to the other side and opened the door to the room across from it. “The Emerald Room.”

It was much like the Pearl Room, except decorated in the rich jewel tones of that particular green stone.

“Every room on the ground floor of this wing is named and decorated for precious stones,” he explained. “Sapphire, ruby, jade, amethyst, aquamarine, opal, pink topaz, garnet, moonstone, lapis lazuli, peridot, cat’s-eye, and at the end with the turrets, diamond.”

I was looking forward to the Cat’s-eye Room.

“Are there themes on each wing?” I asked.

“Mostly, yes. The rooms in the wing your bedroom is in are all named after flowers. Carnation, rose, orchid, jasmine, daisy, poppy, dahlia, tulip, iris, narcissus, etcetera.”

We’d moved out of the Emerald Room into the one next to it, what appeared to be the Aquamarine Room.

“What other themes are there?” I queried.

“The opposite wing of bedrooms from yours, trees. These have been converted into suites as it’s the family wing. Mostly flowering trees. Dogwood, cherry, magnolia, hawthorn, jacaranda. I’m in Hawthorn, by the way, the exact opposite of your room, actually, on the southeastern side.”

“Unnecessary information,” I said, and he chuckled while leading me out of Aquamarine and across the hall.

“The opposite of this wing on the ground floor, as you may have guessed by now, are the wines and spirits. The Wine Room, Port Room, sherry, whisky, viognier, Bordeaux, brandy, chartreuse, starting the wing, obviously, is Champagne. As you know, the dining room is on that side. It used to be called the Chardonnay Room, but my great-grandmother, who detested chardonnay, thought that was common. So she commissioned custom china and had it repaneled. Underneath the tapestry that hangs there now is apparently an extraordinary hand-painted mural. But she loved turquoise, and even if it didn’t fit in that wing of the house, she made it happen.”

We were now in the Moonstone Room, and so far, it was my favorite.

“Mum’s in the Cherry Room,” he told me. “The turret room at the end of our wing. Dad’s in Dogwood.”

I stopped and stared up at him. “They don’t share a room?”

He shook his head. “Not since the first time he fucked around on her.”

I kept staring.

“Come, Miss Ryan,” he began, looking and sounding disappointed. “Surely you know privileged men, or men in general, better than that.”

He could be alluding to what he knew of my ex. He could be alluding to what we all knew, but never talked about, regarding Dad cheating on my mom, Portia’s mom, and also Lou.

It could be both.

Or it could be he was enlightened to his gender.

His words and expression weren’t acrid or sharp, meant to sting or tally a point.

There was something almost…defeatist about his expression and posture.

And I sensed this was about his father hurting his mother. Maybe even Daniel hurting other women. And maybe, considering what I’d recently learned of their triangles, Daniel hurting women that had once been Ian’s, and he might have been done with them, but he didn’t want them hurt.

However, none of this was Ian nor his own behaviors.

Then again, he went through women like water, and as far as I knew, had never even been engaged. He was open about his apparent commitment to bachelorhood. So much so, no woman at this juncture, with his reputation, could be surprised his attention would eventually wander. If she went in thinking she could “change him,” his history proved her wrong from the start.

Thinking of it that way, Ian Alcott might be the last honest man standing.

He took my elbow and led me out of the Moonstone Room and down the hall, to the next room.

It was the Cat’s-eye Room, and I didn’t know why, but by far, it was my favorite.

The room was mostly a creamy, blueish, midnight green with the theme in the upholstery of the pillows and furniture of thin lines of white with a blue edge. It was clever, and it was warm. It was smaller than the other rooms, far cozier, even if, like all the rest, it didn’t seem much used.

There was something cocoonish about it. So much so, I wanted to curl up with a cat and a book, a pot of tea, and eventually fall asleep in order to catch up on the rest I’d missed last night.


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