About S.R. Grey
S.R. Grey is an Amazon Top 100 and Barnes & Noble #1 Bestselling author. She is the author of the popular Judge Me Not series, the new Promises series, the Inevitability duology, A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy, and the Laid Bare series of novellas. Ms. Grey’s works have appeared on multiple bestseller lists, including Top 100 several times, as well as Barnes & Noble #1 in Bestselling Nook books.
Ms. Grey resides in Pennsylvania. When not writing, Ms. Grey can be found reading, traveling, running, or cheering for her hometown sports teams.
Website: http://srgrey.com/
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Also by S.R. Grey
Promises
#1 Tomorrow's Lies
Inevitability Duology
#1 Inevitable Detour
#2 Inevitable Circumstances
Judge Me Not
#1 The After of Us
#2 I Stand Before You
#3 Never Doubt Me
#4 Just Let Me Love You
A Harbour Falls Mystery
#1 Harbour Falls
#2 Willow Point
#Wickingham Way
Laid Bare
#1 Exposed
#2 Unveiled
#3 Spellbound
#4 Sacrifice
Her Kind Of Crazy by Nina Levine
Australian English
Chapter One
JULIETTE
I need a drink.
Wine.
No, something stronger.
Bourbon.
Jesus, any kind of alcohol will do.
Anything to get me under control because at the moment, I'm feeling all kinds of stressed. It's silly really. There's no reason for me to be stressed. Except my brain is telling me if I screw this job up today, it will mean months of hard work down the drain.
As the taxi I'm in pulls into the Sydney Hilton driveway, I do my best to force my nerves away.
"That'll be thirty-two dollars, miss."
The taxi driver's voice pulls me from my thoughts and I hurriedly search for the cash in my purse before handing it to him.
Gathering my bags, I try to ignore the beating of my heart in my chest. I'm flustered, and today is most definitely not a day for me to be anything but calm. Anastasia Brady does not cope well with distracted people and I need her to stay focused and happy today.
You can do this.
"Miss, please hurry because I have another job to get to." As the taxi driver stares at me in the rear-view mirror, it's clear he's annoyed.
"Sorry, I'm going now." I clutch my bags and open the door. Stepping out into the warm Sydney afternoon in a rush so as not to hold the taxi up any longer, I do the one thing I hate to do.
I stumble.
My ankle gives way, causing my foot to twist and me to lose balance. It happens every now and then so I should be used to it, but I'm not. Embarrassment still floods me every time.
I instinctively reach out to grab something to hold on to in an effort to halt my fall. Silly really, because I'm stepping out of the taxi right in front of the hotel lobby doors and there is nothing to grab hold of.
Well, generally there's not.
Today, however, there is.
"I've got you," a man says as his hands slide under my arms and he stops my collapse.
This all happens in a blur, but at the sound of his deep voice, my head snaps up so I can look at him.
Oh. My.
Mesmerising blue eyes capture mine for a moment before I drop my gaze to appreciate his sexy, bearded smile. In my experience, those kinds of lips promise many things that a girl like me doesn't have the time for. I'm all for fun sexy times, but it's the heartbreak a man like him promises that I don't have the time for.
Lips don't lie.
Neither do tattoos, and as my attention diverts from his lips to his neck and down to his arms, I see tattoo after tattoo.
Uh-uh.
Tattoos and I do not go together.
I gather myself and look back up into his eyes. Steadying myself, I move out of his hold and say, "Thank you."
He's stopped smiling, but his lips twitch and his eyes twinkle. "You're welcome."
I narrow my gaze on him. Why is he looking at me like that? Like I amuse him. "Are you laughing at me?"
He continues to watch me with that same lip-twitching gaze. "Do I look like I'm laughing?"
Gripping my bags tighter, I square my shoulders. "No, but there's something going on in your mind and I'm sure it's some kind of laughter at my expense."
He runs his fingers through his brown hair. He's got one of those haircuts where it's really short on the sides and the rest is styled into that sexy, tousled look—the kind of look that makes my belly flutter. His voice distracts me from thinking about his hair when he replies, "Let's just say I'm amused when a woman, who is clearly attracted to me, flinches at my tattoos. They're just ink on skin; they don't tell you about the kind of man I am underneath all that art."
"I'm not attracted to you," I snap.
I'm not.
Really.
His brows rise. "No? Could've fooled me."