Read Online The Bad Boy Billionaire's Wicked Arrangement by Maya Rodale - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maya Rodale
Tags: Fiction, Contemporary Romanse
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Facebook at an unprecedented pace. The failure is attributed to many missed opportunities and alienating potential investors and business partners by Duke Austen’s failure to attend meetings, adhere to deadlines or maintain cordial business relationships.
Vanity Fair covered his early years with a six-page article, complete with glossy photographs of Duke in his apartment with the Manhattan skyline lit up behind him and with a bevy of gorgeous, scantily clad models draped all over him.
After his parents died tragically in a car accident (which Duke miraculously survived), he went to live with his aunt, Ada, who was a professor of computer science at the local university. When the boy showed signs of a genius level intelligence—and a series of disciplinary problems—she taught him to code and gave him increasingly difficult projects in order to keep him out of trouble.
It worked. To a point.
From the New York Times :
We would like to apologize for a recent security breach that resulted in an offensive article being published on our website. The perpetrator, a juvenile, has been apprehended by the FBI and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
There were then pages and pages of pictures, featuring everything from stylized photographs for glossy magazines to blurry shots taken by camera phones at parties. Nearly all of them with girls, models, actresses . . . The kind of Done Up girls that made mere mortals feel so very not quite.
I was so not his type.
Which was exactly the point of this fauxmance.
Which was something I really ought to keep reminding myself. I glanced down at the sparkling hunk of rock on my left ring finger.
It’s not real, Jane.
It doesn’t mean anything, Jane.
Two words, Jane: Cubic Zirconia.
With a troubled heart, I clicked away all the articles and images and returned to my novel more determined than ever to make a success of since it was clear that Duke and I had no real future.
I wrote for hours. When I needed a break, I flipped through the hotel TV offerings and watched The Hunger Games , which totally sparked my imagination and sent me back to my story.
My room service meals came and went. I took a break to shower and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, my grey sweater set (which I actually needed since it was crazy cold in San Francisco even though it was summer), black patent leather ballet flats and, just to drive the point home, a pair of pearl stud earrings. I didn’t bother doing my hair since, with any luck, it’d just end up a tousled mess. Again. Instead I wore it in a bun high atop my head. Prim spinster, indeed.
L ATER THAT NIGHT we survived another dinner. When I wasn’t completely mystified by their tech talk, we were dodging more questions about our wedding, our first date, and when we knew the other was The One.
“Sometimes you just know,” I said, but I was thinking of Sam. I missed the comfort I felt with him, which was the opposite of uncertainty and tingly anticipation that I felt with Duke. When he looked at me across the table, I felt the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach. My skin tingled, as if in anticipation. Cubic Zirconia , Jane.
“Jane makes me a better man,” Duke told everyone. It was exactly what everyone wanted to hear. I smiled and blushed and felt warm and lovely from the compliment. Cubic Zirconia , Jane. Cubic Zirconia .
Duke held my hand as we exited the restaurant. Everyone was watching, so I decided it didn’t mean anything.
In the elevator up to our room, he kissed me so passionately that there was no doubting what was happening next.
Behind us, the door to our room clicked softly in the latch.
No one made a move to turn the lights on.
Any thoughts of real or not real, diamonds or cubic zirconia, faded. The only thing that mattered was his skin against mine. His T-shirt and my sweater set hit the floor. It all came off, a trail of clothes strewn from the door to the bed.
His mouth doing wicked things to
Vanity Fair covered his early years with a six-page article, complete with glossy photographs of Duke in his apartment with the Manhattan skyline lit up behind him and with a bevy of gorgeous, scantily clad models draped all over him.
After his parents died tragically in a car accident (which Duke miraculously survived), he went to live with his aunt, Ada, who was a professor of computer science at the local university. When the boy showed signs of a genius level intelligence—and a series of disciplinary problems—she taught him to code and gave him increasingly difficult projects in order to keep him out of trouble.
It worked. To a point.
From the New York Times :
We would like to apologize for a recent security breach that resulted in an offensive article being published on our website. The perpetrator, a juvenile, has been apprehended by the FBI and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
There were then pages and pages of pictures, featuring everything from stylized photographs for glossy magazines to blurry shots taken by camera phones at parties. Nearly all of them with girls, models, actresses . . . The kind of Done Up girls that made mere mortals feel so very not quite.
I was so not his type.
Which was exactly the point of this fauxmance.
Which was something I really ought to keep reminding myself. I glanced down at the sparkling hunk of rock on my left ring finger.
It’s not real, Jane.
It doesn’t mean anything, Jane.
Two words, Jane: Cubic Zirconia.
With a troubled heart, I clicked away all the articles and images and returned to my novel more determined than ever to make a success of since it was clear that Duke and I had no real future.
I wrote for hours. When I needed a break, I flipped through the hotel TV offerings and watched The Hunger Games , which totally sparked my imagination and sent me back to my story.
My room service meals came and went. I took a break to shower and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, my grey sweater set (which I actually needed since it was crazy cold in San Francisco even though it was summer), black patent leather ballet flats and, just to drive the point home, a pair of pearl stud earrings. I didn’t bother doing my hair since, with any luck, it’d just end up a tousled mess. Again. Instead I wore it in a bun high atop my head. Prim spinster, indeed.
L ATER THAT NIGHT we survived another dinner. When I wasn’t completely mystified by their tech talk, we were dodging more questions about our wedding, our first date, and when we knew the other was The One.
“Sometimes you just know,” I said, but I was thinking of Sam. I missed the comfort I felt with him, which was the opposite of uncertainty and tingly anticipation that I felt with Duke. When he looked at me across the table, I felt the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach. My skin tingled, as if in anticipation. Cubic Zirconia , Jane.
“Jane makes me a better man,” Duke told everyone. It was exactly what everyone wanted to hear. I smiled and blushed and felt warm and lovely from the compliment. Cubic Zirconia , Jane. Cubic Zirconia .
Duke held my hand as we exited the restaurant. Everyone was watching, so I decided it didn’t mean anything.
In the elevator up to our room, he kissed me so passionately that there was no doubting what was happening next.
Behind us, the door to our room clicked softly in the latch.
No one made a move to turn the lights on.
Any thoughts of real or not real, diamonds or cubic zirconia, faded. The only thing that mattered was his skin against mine. His T-shirt and my sweater set hit the floor. It all came off, a trail of clothes strewn from the door to the bed.
His mouth doing wicked things to
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