Survival of the Richest by Skye Warren

Author:Skye Warren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Skye Warren
Published: 2018-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

I open my eyes and stare at the chandelier lit by sunrise, wondering where the hell I am and why I’m awake. Then the hotel room phone rings again. Briefly I fantasize about throwing it across the room. Or maybe attempting to flush it down the toilet.

Instead I answer with a sleepy, “Hello.”

“Mademoiselle St. Claire, this is your requested wake-up call,” says a voice in lightly accented French. It makes me wonder if L’Etoile hired him only for that accent. They do love ambiance. “At six o’clock. Would you like us to send breakfast?”

“Coffee,” I manage to croak before letting the receiver roll out of my hand. It hangs over the side of the bed, because I’m too exhausted to pick it up.

In my defense I’ve been a college student and an artist for the past few years. Being Instagram famous doesn’t exactly require waking up early. I know without asking that the men will be awake early, regardless of what happened last night, and I’m determined to pull my weight, to actually earn the money they’re damn well going to pay me.

I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, where a spray of hot water finally lures me into consciousness. While I’m inside, I hear the room service knocking.

“Coffee,” I tell the shower wall, and it echoes the word back at me, sounding relieved.

I’m in my towel when I open the door.

Sutton looks ridiculously fresh and awake at this ungodly hour, his suit crisp across his broad shoulders, narrow at the waist. His only saving grace is the cup of coffee he holds, the white lid and green stirrer keeping the heat and steam inside. It’s not from the hotel, this one.

“Bless you,” I tell him fervently, taking the coffee and backing up.

He steps inside with a grin, with absolutely zero shame in his blue eyes as he takes in the tops of my breasts above the towel. “A very good morning.”

My body responds as if he just stood up after kneeling at my feet, his hands on my thighs, his mouth on my clit. Sparks between my legs. Heat in my breasts. My nipples turning hard against thick cotton. “How did you know I’d be awake?”

“I was hoping to find you still in bed,” he admits. “I would have joined you.”

“You’re only a few minutes late for that.”

It’s a struggle to take the little green stirrer out without letting the towel drop, but naturally he doesn’t help me whatsoever. He’s not quite a gentleman.

Not when it means he can see my skin covered in droplets.

“There’s always tomorrow,” he says. “I was going to drive you over to the library, so you can see what’s there before I show you the plans.”

The coffee burns down my throat, the perfect blend of sharp and sweet. “If you bring me coffee like this, you can take me anywhere you want.”

A knock comes at the door. “Room service.”

Sutton gives my body one last look, his blue eyes tinged with regret. “You should probably get dressed.

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