Lucky and the Banged-up Ballerina by Emmy Grace

Author:Emmy Grace [Grace, Emmy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EG Books
Published: 2019-10-02T05:00:00+00:00

Before he left last night, Liam asked if I wanted him to go with me to speak with Cruz. I politely declined. The whole thing is going to be humiliating enough without witnesses. That last thing a guy like him is going to want to do is a free, unprofessional, and extremely derivative performance with a nobody from nowhere. I’m just hoping he will want justice for his girlfriend enough to help me out.

It’s just after ten AM when I knock on his door. It takes him a while to answer, and when he does, it’s clear I woke him. His dark hair is a sexy, tousled mess and his dark eyes are heavy with sleep.

“I didn’t order room service, but I would have if I’d known it came like this,” he says with a slow grin as he rubs a hand over his bare chest.

I’m caught off guard, of course. I was bracing for groveling and abject humiliation on my part. What I didn’t take into account was my lucky charm. I mean, who’da thunk my charm would work on someone like this?

I don’t know if I’ll ever really get used to affecting men this way. Not when there are young, beautiful, thin, nearly perfect women out there and I am none of those things.

But who am I to argue?

It isn’t hard for me to let my lips curve into a smile. I mean, this is Cruz DiSpirito. No one would dare argue his hotness. It is absolute. He’s not my type at all, of course. I mean, the arrogant peacock who flirts with everything from a camera to a teenager. But I’m not immune to the sparkle and awe of it all either. Maybe a little dirty dancing with him won’t be so bad.

Regina will surely swallow her tongue when she finds out.

“I’m actually here to ask a favor.” I nod toward the interior of his room. “Do you mind?”

Immediately, he steps back, sweeping his muscular arm to bid me entrance. “I don’t mind at all.”

I move past him into the darkened hotel room. It smells of expensive cologne with a hint of liquor. I don’t suppose I need to ask what he did last night. For a star, there’s probably nothing for them to do in a town like Salty Springs except drink.

I stop and turn around, and he’s right behind me, close enough for me to see how long and curly his black lashes are. That’s something I’m going to ask about when I get to heaven. What kind of a cruel joke was it for God to give men such fabulous lashes?

“Oh!” I mutter, stumbling back a step. He reaches out to steady me, wrapping his long fingers around my upper arms.

“Careful. I’d hate for you to fall. Unless it’s onto the bed.”

I stare up into Cruz’s eyes, and honestly, I feel a little faint. Sweet Mary, am I being drugged? Maybe his cologne is a psychedelic or something.

I sway toward him, and he lets me.

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