Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Meeting Eric has changed my plans. He’s slowly unraveling me in ways I never expected. The powerful chemistry flowing between us terrifies me a little. I’ve never been one to let myself get swept away by anyone, but with him, I find myself teetering on the edge of something intense. And, God help me, it scares me how much I crave him.
As the plane levels off, the shuddering motion subsides, and I barely notice. I glance at him, and he meets my gaze, a lazy grin spreading across his handsome face. Then, out of nowhere, he takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, sending a shockwave through my system. It’s just a touch, but it makes my heart race like I’m on a speeding roller coaster.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and warm, pulling me in deeper.
“Yeah, all good,” I reply, my breath quickening against my will as a blush creeps up my cheeks. What the hell is wrong with me?
I fidget in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position as a battle rages inside me. I’m half-tempted to lean closer and let my curiosity take over while the other half desperately tries to maintain some semblance of control. I can’t let him see just how deeply he affects me, can’t risk showing any hint of vulnerability.
Then, right when I think I might be able to reign it all in, he throws back his head and laughs at something the pilot just said over the intercom, and the sight of him stills me. He looks so carefree, so alive in his element, and a flash of recognition slams into me like a freight train.
“Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath, my eyes widening as I realize just how much he resembles Rylan Rhodes, the reclusive Hollywood actor. The strong jawline, the chiseled features, and that irresistible charm… Why the hell didn’t I notice this before?
“Are you related to Rylan Rhodes?” My mind races with ideas. This brand-new realization sends my heart pounding harder against my ribcage as if my body can’t decide whether to swoon or panic.
The pieces all slot together. Eric’s brooding presence, the way he carries himself with fierce confidence bordering on arrogance. It’s enough to have my thoughts spiraling.
A brief flash of apprehension crosses his face, enough to make my stomach knot. “Yeah, uh… actually,” he says slowly, his voice tinged with that mix of apprehension and something deeper. “I used to be Rylan Rhodes, but I left that name behind with my old Hollywood life.”
“Holy shit,” I murmur, incredulous. I feel my heart race, a mix of disbelief and confusion swirling like a storm inside me. “Wait a minute.” I hold up my hand. “You’re really Rylan Rhodes?”
He shifts in his seat, and I catch the tension playing across his features; it’s a damn near palpable struggle. “Look, I was going to explain everything once we’re on the yacht,” he says, his tone serious yet steady. “But yes, I’m Rylan. I went back to my real name when I left Hollywood.”
My mind spins, trying to catch up with the revelation. All the stories, the gossip, the Hollywood glitz, they’re standing right in front of me disguised as this down-to-earth guy. Since he never really had high-profile relationships, most people assumed he wasn’t into women. “I can’t believe this.”
“I know it’s shocking,” he replies, looking slightly more relaxed now that the truth is out in the open. “I got fed up with the bullshit. It’s not what it appears to be, you know? It’s all smoke and mirrors, a never-ending façade that drove me insane.”
I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. Rylan Rhodes, the man who once captivated audiences and filled theaters, chose to detach himself from the glittering chaos? It’s wild and intoxicating, and suddenly, I feel like I’m peeking behind the curtain at a whole new world I never expected.
“Why move here?” I ask, genuinely curious, leaning in a little closer. “You could have gone anywhere. You could have kept your fame, and people would have welcomed you with open arms.”
He shrugs, his expression softening just a bit. “I wanted to live a normal life. Somewhere I could blend in without constant scrutiny.” He pauses, the weight of his words hanging in the air between us. “I just wanted to find out who I really am when the world isn’t watching.”
The vulnerability in his confession tugs at something deep inside me, triggering a pang I can’t quite describe. Here’s a man who practically wore the world’s expectations on his shoulders and decided it was time to shake it off, to break free.
“Why did you agree to the auction if you’re trying to lay low?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“Roman caught me at a weak moment,” he admits, a wry smile forming. “And I figured The Sterling Rope is one of the safest places for me with all their privacy standards.”