Beneath This Mask by Meghan March

Author:Meghan March [March, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Military, Romantic Suspense, Mystery & Suspense, Suspense, Contemporary Romance
Amazon: B00NQ1EVG4
Barnesnoble: B00NQ1EVG4
Goodreads: 22458416
Publisher: Meghan March LLC
Published: 2014-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

I stripped off the dress and threw it on the bed.

“I can’t do this,” I said to the empty room. I wished Huck were pacing around my tiny apartment so I didn’t feel like I was talking to myself. But he was downstairs in his crate in Harriet’s guestroom. I’d spent most of the day down there with him, the composition book, and a stack of library books. I’d officially made zero progress. I’d started cycling though the alphabet in the hopes that it was a basic substitution cipher, but it was a painstaking process.

And while my code cracking was going horribly, at least Huck was doing amazingly well. Dr. Richelieu hadn’t lied about the plate in his leg easing his recovery. He might’ve looked a bit like a hobbled horse when he padded around with his weight unequally distributed, but I was so damn glad to see him on the mend.

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 6:49. I paced my room, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Calm, I thought. You can do this.

“I can’t do this.” I flopped onto my bed beside the dress and stared out the skylight to the blue and white expanse above. My thoughts wandered back to this morning. Lying on the bed, watching Simon as he stared me down with desire … and something else. I’d never wanted anyone more, and I’d never deserved anyone less. Was I going to humor his simple—albeit caveman-like—request?

What if he took me to some fancy Michelin Star restaurant? With the impression I’d given him so far, Simon would probably think my nerves stemmed from not knowing which fork to use. Little did he know that if I was so inclined, I could out-etiquette him any day. The girl who used to dine regularly at Per Se might’ve been buried, but she was still in there. Somewhere. But letting any hint of her out could put everything I’d built at risk. As it stood, my life might not be much, but it was mine. I looked over at the mini-dress and fingered the deep purple cotton voile. I pictured myself wearing it, walking hand-in-hand through the streets with Simon. I wanted that.

The rationalizations started to filter in: we weren’t in New York or L.A., Simon wasn’t a celebrity followed by the paparazzi, and unless he was at a public event, it was unlikely that his presence would attract attention.

“I can do this.”

I adjusted my strapless bra and matching black, lacy boy shorts and slipped on the dress. My hair hung in huge spiral curls I’d spent the last hour perfecting. Not that I would admit that little detail. I added dangling black and silver chain earrings that almost brushed my shoulders. They gave the outfit just enough ‘Charlie’ flare to make it acceptable. I slipped on a pair of vintage red leather peep-toe platforms Yve had let me borrow out of the inventory at the Dirty Dog and fastened the straps around my ankles. A check in the mirror, another dab of red lip stain, and I was ready.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.