Reluctantly Yours

Product Information

Dancing is all about the right partner. The one that is attuned to you, to your body, the one who can sense the rhythm of your heartbeat and anticipate your every movement. You enjoyed dancing at the Yule Ball, didn’t you? Even when Krum went for drinks, you kept twirling and spinning around, smiling, as if you couldn’t get enough. As if you didn’t need a break at all. Hey Shane. Did you hear about that deal that went bad last night? I heard that Cason got shot but-” I cut him off when I glanced up sharply. We’ve been sitting together for three years and you had to ask to clarify my name,” I muttered. After a few seconds of silence, I risked a glance up to see that he was studying me with a calculating expression. Griffin absolutely stole my heart! The man has a heart of gold, he is the ultimate sweetheart and a bit of a sex god), and I loved how he just lets himself fall for Emma, despite the difficulties it may bring to his life. And Emma is lots of fun. She’s smart and sensible, but she has this relatable vulnerability that makes her instantly likable. Everything between them is so easy, and feels so right.

That's amazing, truly. Don't you dare talk yourself out of a victory, however small it might seem to you. Then again, I probably deserve it. When have I ever given you a reason to think that I wasn't the kind of person to exploit this bond? Correct, never.

My Book Notes

In ‘Reluctantly Yours’ we meet Chloe. Chloe is definitely my kind of girl, she is working as an editorial assistant to JoAnna St. Clair of the famed St. Clair Press and she is working het butt off to get an promotion. Chloe lives in a tiny apartment, which she worked hard for, so she is definitely proud of it. When her boss’s handsome rich and very arrogant son Barrett finds her in a bad position, he forces her to become his ‘fake’ girlfriend for a few weeks. I'm sorry, Granger. More than I could ever express. I'm sorry for tormenting you. I'm sorry for not helping.

I finally stepped away from the sinks mirror and went into my room, grabbing my purse, keys, and phone to head out the door. I went downstairs and walked outside, knowing that Dad had already gone to work.

Yes, I'm glad, too. It leaves me wondering sometimes. Is this real? Or I am going to wake up one day, only to realise this was some kind of a dream? If that's the case, then I don't want to wake up. No shaming sex-work of any kind –ESPECIALLY FEMALE SEX-WORKERS. Please, and thank you. I’m not saying let’s romanticize it either - Just no double standards. I’ve been concerned about making him fit into the mold that I thought the perfect husband would be, but he doesn’t need to fit. He is the mold.