From Best Friend To Fiancé (eBook)

A Forced-Proximity Revenge Romance

Page Hunter (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
233 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-110095-4 (ISBN)

Infos

'You fake-engaged me to your entire family-to outdo your sister who's marrying your ex-and now we're actually driving to New Hope to pull off this epic lie?'
I nodded.
'Okay, okay, counteroffer-I give you my next paycheck. Just the one. And maybe my soul.'
Roman snorted. 'Love, your paycheck wouldn't cover my shoelaces.'
'Please, Roman...'
He watched me, eyes softer now. 'When do we leave?'
'In two weeks.'
He ran a hand through his messy hair. 'Great. Let's ruin a wedding.'
*******
I'm Savannah Hart, and I panicked. When my sister said she'd marry my ex, I blurted a lie: I'm engaged to Roman Blackwood-my razor-smart, infuriating best friend. We head to New Hope to 'ruin a wedding' as revenge, and our fake-engagement romance explodes into open war-petty games, a velvet-room 'surprise,' and danger that feels way too real.
With Roman Blackwood, banter is armor-and gasoline. In this best-friends-to-lovers freefall, forced proximity and messy family drama shove us past the point of no return. One storm-soaked night brands desire onto friendship. Now I either hide behind the lie-or risk scandal and heartbreak for the truth. A high-heat, angsty contemporary romance-told by me.
Perfect for readers who love fake-engagement romance, fake-dating, best-friends-to-lovers, forced proximity, messy family drama, and high-heat, high-angst contemporary revenge romance.
BOOK 2

Textauszug

Chapter 57: Close Your Eyes

 

“You sure this is gonna work?” I asked Roman, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

 

“Positive,” he said without hesitation. “Get in.”

 

The way he said it, firm and unyielding, sent a shiver down my spine. I obeyed, sliding into the passenger seat. He closed the door behind me with a solid thud before walking around and getting in on his side.

 

Heat flushed up my cheeks the moment my gaze drifted to the backseat. The lush leather practically whispered to me, dragging me back to that night. The way he had bent me over, his hands gripping my hips while I clawed at the window, the glass fogging under my breath as I cried out his name. My thighs clenched together instinctively, my body remembering every thrust, every sinful sound that had echoed in this very car.

 

I shouldn’t have looked at him then, but I did. Roman sat there so casually, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against his thigh. And damn him, the memory of me straddling that same thigh, grinding down on him while his smug grin watched me unravel—God, I nearly squirmed right there in my seat. My nipples hardened, remembering how his mouth had claimed them over and over again that night.

My fingers twitched at my side, aching with the ghost of pressing against the glass when he took me from behind.

 

Oh dear God.

 

And Roman? The little smirk pulling at his lips told me everything I needed to know—he remembered it all too.

 

“You are one naughty girl, Savannah,” he murmured, his chuckle low and deep.

 

My breath caught, heat shooting down my spine. I turned sharply toward the window, pretending to study the reflection in the glass when all I really saw was the imprint of my own hand that night, a brand of our recklessness. “Shut up,” I muttered, though my body betrayed me, already thrumming with want.

 

Instead of feeding his ego, I forced myself to change the subject. “Are you sure it’s going to be utterly destroyed and irredeemable?”

 

The thought of that awful video still made my stomach clench. After we deleted it, I told him I wanted it gone completely—obliterated. No chance of anyone ever finding it. And so here we were, sitting in his car, the phone waiting like a corpse in the driveway, Roman promising to finish the job.

 

“Of course,” he said smoothly, starting the car. “Watch this.”

 

The engine roared to life, vibrating under me, and for a second the low growl of it had me flashing back again to Roman’s growls in my ear, the sound that made me lose control. I shook my head quickly, trying to focus. He threw the car in reverse. A loud crunch echoed as the tires rolled over the phone. My heart jumped.

 

Then he went forward. Another satisfying smash. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” He kept repeating the motion, going back and forth, grinding the device into the asphalt like it had personally offended him.

 

“Alright, I think it’s destroyed now,” I said, watching through the windshield.

 

“Yeah,” he drawled, “but one more time… just to be certain.” He rolled back again with exaggerated ease.

 

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. “Why do I get the feeling you’re deriving pleasure from this?”

 

He only chuckled, killing the engine. “C’mon. Let’s go see.”

 

We stepped out. The phone was no longer a phone. It was just a mangled pile of glass shards and metal fragments. My chest loosened a little. “It’s destroyed now,” he said, his voice softer, gentler. “So you don’t have to worry anymore.”

 

I stared at the crushed remains, emotions clogging my throat. Relief, gratitude, the lingering shame of that video, and underneath it all, a little embarrassment that he’d had to do this for me. But before I could think too hard, I spun and launched myself at him. He caught me instantly, his arms locking around me, grounding me in the safety of his chest.

 

“Thank you,” I whispered, my cheek pressed against him.

 

“You’re welcome.” His palm smoothed slow circles over my back, a soothing rhythm. Then his voice dropped, almost conspiratorial. “I’ve got one more thing to show you.”

 

I pulled back, blinking up at him. “What’s that?”

 

His smile tilted into something dangerous, something that always made my heart stutter. He inclined his head toward the car. “Get in the backseat and you’ll find out.”

 

My pulse leapt. My core tightened. Heat pooled low in my belly. Just hearing those words, with all the memories tied to that backseat, nearly undid me. I bit my lip. “Roman?”

 

“Don’t you want to find out?” he asked, his smirk widening.

 

My heart thundered in my chest. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

 

His brow arched. “And it’s working, isn’t it?”

 

God, it was. I glanced around anxiously, scanning for movement in the early dawn light. The house was still, quiet. Everyone else probably knocked out, hungover, or sleeping deep. “What if someone sees us?”

 

“Oh, you’d want them to see this one, love,” he said, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel.

 

A shiver rippled through me, my panties embarrassingly damp. The thought of being caught—God, it made me ache even more. He was at the door before I could blink, holding it open, waiting like a devil coaxing me into temptation.

 

“Come on, Sav,” he murmured. “You know you want it.”

 

My lip nearly bled under the pressure of my teeth. Screw it. Screw everything. I slipped past him into the backseat, my body trembling with need. “Don’t take too long,” I whispered, nerves tangling with arousal. “Or someone might come looking.”

 

His voice was a wicked promise. “Don’t scream too hard, or someone will definitely come looking.”

 

I trembled as I crawled onto the leather, my palms pressing into the cool surface. The ghost of my own fingerprints burned into me again. I fidgeted with the hem of my sleep shorts, heat crawling over every inch of me. “Should I take these off?” I asked, breathless, my voice husky.

 

“Not now,” he said. His tone made it clear he was in control.

 

He slid in behind me, his thighs brushing against my feet. I rocked back, my body betraying me, grinding against the unmistakable hardness pressing at my back. His sharp intake of breath filled the car.

 

“Close your eyes,” he commanded.

 

I obeyed instantly, nerves and anticipation twisting together. A second later: “Open them.”

 

I blinked. Confusion furrowed my brow, until my gaze dropped. A small velvet box sat on the console in front of me. My body froze. “What is this?” I asked, my voice thin. I sat back on my heels, heart hammering, staring at it.

 

He was beside me now, his presence a warm, overwhelming force. He slid the box across the leather, never breaking eye contact. “Open it.” His tone wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

 

Suspicion flickered, but curiosity won. My fingers trembled as I tugged at the ribbon, flipping open the lid.

 

And I screamed. Loud.

 

Not a scared scream—a shocked, disbelieving one that tore out of my throat before I could stop it. Nestled on black satin was a gleaming crystal fob, shimmering like a jewel. It caught the light, elegant and expensive, like him.

 

“Oh my God,” I gasped, clutching the box in both hands. My eyes snapped to his. “No. Roman. No, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

 

His smirk was lethal. “An Aston Martin Vantage,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “It’s yours.”

 

I screamed again, this one louder, a laugh and a sob tangled together. “You didn’t. You didn’t actually do it. Roman! I told you last night—I told you half-jokingly—I can’t believe—” My voice broke into breathless laughter. “You actually bought it?”

 

“Not just bought it,” he murmured, leaning closer until his presence swallowed me whole. “I wanted you to have it. To own it. To command it.”

 

I shook my head violently, still half in shock. “You’re insane! You’re—this is—” I buried my face in my hands, then peeked through my fingers at the shining fob. “I don’t deserve this. I was testing you when I said I wanted one. You weren’t supposed to…”

 

“I don’t care if you whispered it in your sleep,” he said, his thumb brushing over mine, coaxing my hands away. “You wanted it. That’s enough for me.”

 

Tears pricked my eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of it all. “Roman, I don’t even know how to react. I can’t—this is too much.”

 

His smirk softened into something darker, more intimate. He took the box from my trembling hands and set it aside before leaning in, close enough that I could taste his breath. “The car is nothing. You’re everything. But I do like the thought of you behind the wheel… all that horsepower trembling under your hands.” His thumb traced a slow circle on my thigh, igniting fire in my veins. “Handle it the way you’d handle me—fast, tight, and with just the right amount of recklessness.”

 

My pulse spiked, my whole body quivering...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 13.11.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-110095-5 / 0001100955
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-110095-4 / 9780001100954