Read Online Beautiful Liar by Tara Bond - Free Book Online

room. Unlike Jas, she wasn’t beautiful, but she was attractive in that expensive, well-groomed way—hair extensions, spray-tanned limbs, and a toned body no doubt courtesy of a personal trainer. She wore a tiny sequinned backless dress that looked like it cost a small fortune, and even though I hated to admit it, she carried it off. It was something to do with the arrogant tilt of her chin.
    I’d seen her around at the club with Alex. She must have recognised us, too, because she stopped in front of us and wrinkled her nose.
    â€œWho the hell invited the help?”
    â€œAlex,” I said, enjoying the O of surprise her mouth formed. “He asked us personally. Said it wouldn’t be the same without us here, didn’t he, Jas?” I knew it was hypocritical to suddenly be bragging about Alex’s inviting us, after I’d been wishing he hadn’t. But I didn’t like the way the blonde was looking at us as though we were scum.
    I pushed past her before she could say another word, and grabbed Jas’s hand, pulling her after me.
    â€œWho was that?” I asked.
    â€œVictoria Cavendish—or Tori, as she’s known. Her dad’s in property. He owns half of London. She’s a big spender atthe club, and an even bigger bitch.”
    Somehow it wasn’t hard to believe that last part.
    It was only as I walked purposefully along the hallway that I realised I had no idea where I was going. But I used my common sense and followed the noise.
    At the end of the corridor, we entered a vast, open-plan living area. Like the hallway, the walls and floor were gleaming white, which along with the double-height ceilings, created a feeling of space and light. A statement staircase led up to a mezzanine, where I presumed the bedrooms were, and a huge set of patio doors stretched the length of the room, providing magnificent views across London. It was exactly the kind of place I imagined a wealthy playboy to live.
    The décor was equally impressive. Low-slung cream-suede couches surrounded the biggest plasma screen TV I’d ever seen, and a pool table took up one corner. At the far end of the room, there was a state-of-the-art kitchen, and that’s where everyone was—about twenty people crowded round one side of the kitchen island, while Alex played bartender on the other. He was standing on a chair, and had a line of shot glasses in front of him.
    â€œCome on, Noble!” someone called.
    â€œJust do it already!”
    To the sound of cheers, he picked up a bottle of Sambuca, and poured it back and forth across the shot glasses, filling them to the brim. The catcalls increased as he grabbed alighter and ran it across the top of the clear liquid, creating a line of blue flames, like candles on a birthday cake.
    He held up his hands, letting everyone admire his handiwork. Then a second later, he grabbed a beer mat, slammed it on top of the first glass to extinguish the flame, and downed the shot.
    The group let out a roar of approval, and then they all followed suit. There was a glass for me, but I didn’t walk over to join in. I’d never been one for drinking. Seeing my mother’s battle with alcohol had made me wary. I never touched spirits, and I was probably one of the few nineteen-year-olds who’d never been drunk.
    I’d assumed Alex was too caught up in his guests to notice me. But now he looked over in my direction. He held out one of the shot glasses, but I shook my head, and looked away. I wasn’t sure why he was paying me so much attention, but I certainly didn’t want to encourage it.
    â€œOh my God!” Jas squealed. “This party is going to be amazing.” She clutched at my arm. “Thank you so much for this.”
    Seeing how happy Jas was, I found it hard to regret coming.
    â€œHello, ladies.” The male voice was slightly nervous. We looked round and saw a tawny-haired, ruddy-cheeked young man, who’d been