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    Dazzle (A From London with Love Novella)
    Dazzle (A From London with Love Novella)
    Dazzle (A From London with Love Novella)
    Ebook86 pages1 hour

    Dazzle (A From London with Love Novella)

    By Olivia Aycock

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    About this ebook

    Leaving behind sunny SoCal, Emily Powell has followed her older sister to live the glamorous expat life in London. Only it's not that glamorous. When her plans for New Year's Eve fall through, Emily crashes a country house party—only to discover her older sister and her new boyfriend in flagrante at a secret sex party. Mortified, she flees to the only open pub in town, but wouldn't you know, just shy of midnight, she stumbles upon her own dirty little secret in the form of one very sexy Irish artist... 

    The perfect vintage sequin dress isn't the only thing that will dazzle him on NYE. This romance novella includes two former flames who once broke all the rules to be together, and, once reunited, extend far more than a cup of kindness to each other. For auld lang syne. (about 18,000 words) 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOlivia Aycock
    Release dateDec 31, 2015
    ISBN9781524270766
    Dazzle (A From London with Love Novella)
    Author

    Olivia Aycock

    Olivia Aycock writes romance with an erotic edge. Her characters might be urban sophisticates or have sweet southern style. But no matter the setting, you can always expect a satisfying ending.

    Read more from Olivia Aycock

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      Book preview

      Dazzle (A From London with Love Novella) - Olivia Aycock

      Prologue

      And you’re sure about this? Really sure?

      Ashley fought to keep from rolling her eyes—and only partly because she was applying another coat of mascara and didn’t care to stab herself with a spoolie.

      "Darling, we’ve been over this." So what if she was kind of a brat for mimicking his hyper-posh accent and the way he called her darling? She loved it. All of it.

      She loved that she could catch his eye in the mirror. That they were together again for another weekend here in the Cotswolds and could do couple-things like get ready for a party together.

      After their whirlwind, upside-down courtship—plus a super-busy work schedule—they hadn’t had an opportunity to do much more than grab quick dinners before diving back to work on the AmGale-Berwick merger. Or send dirty texts to each other—on non-work phones, of course. And especially with the holidays and all the travel and family commitments, they’d barely spent five nights together this December.

      But that made their times with each other even more sweet. All of that shimmering, frustrated longing manifested in some pretty cataclysmic lovemaking when they managed to spend the night together.

      And now that they were back in their room at Tiffany and Sam’s stately home and about attend another wild party?

      Best New Year’s Eve ever.

      I just don’t want to—he hesitated ever so slightly—pressure you into anything.

      She raised an eyebrow and let it speak volumes. As if.

      Oliver was reclining back on what they’d christened the Henry the Fourth bed. They’d christened it in other, very creative ways, too, and hadn’t that been a blast? She marveled that it had only been a month since their indulgent beginning, the Friendsgiving holiday that had turned real sexy, real fast.

      And speaking of real sexy. Oliver Wooldridge-Langston was the personification of s-e-x.

      Dressed in trousers and a tailored button-down shirt, he looked like a louche lord of the manor bent on seducing a parlor maid, what with that damned sexy flash of skin from the shirt collar he’d left open.

      She eyed the clock, a fussy, gilded affair on the mantle, and sighed. Thirty minutes until the party. Ugh. She almost regretted the decision they’d made to not make love once they arrived at the manor so they’d both be a little on edge at the wild party.

      What she wouldn’t give to kiss her way down the strong column of his throat. . .

      Maybe she’d make him slip his tie in his pocket before they went downstairs since she had no room in her simple sheath dress for accessories.

      No. They had an agreement. No humiliation in public; no power plays. That was reserved for them alone, and she was more than okay with that.

      But when he stood and stretched, she was more than just a little on edge. Ashley enjoyed his quick mind and the way he approached his work with a quiet competency, but he was so damn gorgeous. It was a miracle she didn’t swipe her lipstick all over her cheek or get whiplash from ogling him so hard.

      How did I get lucky enough for you to be mine?

      I was just thinking the same thing, she confessed.

      He came up behind her, nibbling on her nick, and started to inch up her dress.

      No, sir. She playfully slapped at his hands, but he kept going. No getting lucky until we’re at the party. House rules.

      Your rules, he pouted.

      You know you love them. And she loved the way his eyes got all hazy with lust as he watched her hemline’s northward progress in the mirror. The way they unfocused a little when she arched her back, rubbing her ass into his pelvis, teasing him.

      Teasing them both.

      When her dress breached the border of her lace-top stockings, the sound he made went straight to her core. Jesus, Ashley. Are you trying to kill me?

      Keep going and you might find out.

      The ground floor was resplendent with holiday decorations. Boughs of holly still festooned every stationary object, but their cheerful red Christmas bows had been replaced with wired metallic silver ones. The effect was extraordinary, especially with the dimmed lights and soft music filling the halls.

      Tiffany likes to set the scene, Oliver murmured in her ear as they paused on the landing to survey the entry that was quickly filling up with guests.

      From up here, it looked like a regular holiday party. People laughing and kissing their hellos. Removing coats and scarves, and checking cellphones one last time, before heading off out of the hall.

      I can see that. As they approached the bottom of the stair, Ashley noticed a thick black ribbon cordoning off the staircase. What’s this?

      Upper floors are off limits to general invitees. He removed the ribbon, gestured her forward, and turned to replace it.

      Sam runs a tight ship.

      He took her hand, gave it a squeeze. You’re about to find out. Ready?

      For a brief second, she wanted to tell him to undo the ribbon again, to take her back upstairs and they’d just spend New Year’s Eve alone together in the Henry the Fourth bed. After all, ignoring the wild party last month had been a whole lot of fun. But that was just nerves talking. And, despite them, she was super excited for all that tonight promised.

      Oliver would take care of her.

      She took a deep breath and leaned forward to place a light kiss on his lips. Let’s do this.

      If he was at all nervous about ushering her into an orgy, he didn’t show it. If anything, he went into the fray with something like glee written all over the hard planes of his face. Oliver was in his element.

      Sam, their host, greeted them with enthusiasm. Like Oliver, he was wearing a beautifully tailored suit, but unlike her Oliver, he was wearing a mask. Just a flash of delicate silver metalwork, held in place with some kind of magic. It looked specially molded for the blades of his cheekbones.

      Ashley shivered. It made Sam look dark and a little sinful.

      Okay, a lot sinful.

      So happy you two decided to join us this time. His wink was full

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