Don’t Lie to Me Read online

  Don’t Lie to Me

  By Amber Bardan

  A fling with her best friend’s reclusive business partner should’ve been harmless.

  When Emma meets him, the only way she’s looking to be tied down is in the literal sense. But Avner—shady hacker, off-the-books investigator, occasional spy—takes her breath away. He’s the first man who doesn’t turn to mush under her sexual spell: a fact that makes what’s between them very different, and very real.

  Beautiful and uninhibited, Emma is everything Avner thought she would be and more. Yet his deadly past and dark duties can never be forgotten...not even as he succumbs to their seductive intimacy. But for the first time he’s after something of his own, as well.

  And now that he’s found Emma, he’ll protect her, no matter what. Because anything worth loving is worth fighting for.

  But nothing about Avner is remotely harmless.

  Soon, Avner has infiltrated Emma’s personal life, stalled her career and nearly destroyed everything she’s worked for—all in the name of protection. Desperate and heartbroken, drawn into a secret criminal underworld in her quest for understanding, Emma discovers the truth: Avner’s secrets are far more devastating than his lies.

  This book is approximately 85,000 words

  Book Three of the Bad For You series

  Edited by Angela James

  Dear Reader,

  This month I’d like to take the opportunity to talk to you about a topic that I’ve been giving serious thought to recently: toilet paper rolls. Should they roll from the top or the bottom? Kidding! In fact, the topic is book reviews. I’m probably not supposed to admit this, but I love book reviews. Even critical or low-star reviews—sometimes those are the books I end up wanting to read the most because the thing the reviewer didn’t like is exactly what I look for in a book (insta-love, too much sex and a bossy hero, for instance)! At Carina Press, we always hope that our books will move you to leave a review, whether on a blog, social media, a retailer’s listing, a review site or elsewhere. Reviews help spread the word to other readers and help increase an author (and publisher’s) visibility in the market. Please consider leaving a review for Carina Press books that you read or have read. We appreciate you!

  Emma thought Avner was going to be a harmless fling. Her life-altering research was meant to save lives. Little did she know she would be drawn into a secret criminal underworld that would threaten her life. Will Avner be the one to fight for her life—and her heart—or will he be the one to put her in the ultimate danger? Don’t Lie to Me by Amber Bardan stands alone from Didn’t I Warn You and Didn’t You Promise, but you’ll want to catch up on Haithem and Angelina’s duology all the same!

  If you loved Lila and Dare in Jade Chandler’s debut, Enough, you can’t miss her next stand-alone novel. If you haven’t read them yet, what are you waiting for? Jade returns with Release, the newest in her erotic motorcycle club contemporary series. Avery wants Rock but not his intimidating motorcycle club, the Jericho Brotherhood. Once she conquers the club, she and Rock must overcome her fears, his secrets and a prejudice that threatens more than their new relationship.

  Mitch Dalton is falling for the drag queen next door in Outside the Lines by A.R. Barley. Chi-Chi Ramirez has his own struggles: getting his degree one class at a time, working too many jobs and performing at a nightclub to make his Broadway dreams come true. A one-night stand, a quick fling—that’s all Chi-Chi can give. But once they finally get a taste of each other, what if Mitch wants more?

  Tienan is an Alpha—a genetically enhanced assassin who escaped from the Ruling Council that controlled him. Silence is a tracker with the Resistance, on the trail of a dangerous stranger. When Tienan kidnaps her, both captor and captive are enthralled with each other, and sexual longing and desire battle with treachery and mistrust. Don’t miss Embracing Silence, first in the erotic futuristic Project Alpha series from N.J. Walters. And watch for books two and three, coming in November and December.

  In the mood for some mystery? Everyone’s favorite geek girl vows to get justice when she finds the body of a family friend in the community lake in A Geek Girl’s Guide to Justice by Julie Anne Lindsey. Previous titles, A Geek Girl’s Guide to Murder and A Geek Girl’s Guide to Arsenic, are on sale now!

  Coming next month: a holiday novella from perennial favorite, Shannon Stacey, as well as romantic suspense, paranormal romance and more!

  And if you missed it in last month’s Dear Reader letter, please make sure to check out our Carina Press Romance Promise!

  As always, until next month, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend. And review ;)

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  Dedication

  For Danielle. Thank you for being a true friend on this journey.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Didn’t I Warn You by Amber Bardan

  Excerpt from Vengeful Love by Laura Carter

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Amber Bardan

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Emma

  Oh bugger, I did not know I wanted this.

  Haithem wound his arm around Angelina’s shoulder, and she slid him a love-drenched look in one of the most sickening displays of intimacy my jaded little eyes had ever witnessed. I glanced at my knuckles, the only white left on my hand. I was pink down to my fingernails. Blushing really wasn’t my thing, but the two of them...

  The past few weeks traveling with my best friend and her about-to-be-husband caused enough hot flushes to convince me I’d hit menopause at twenty-three. I took a gulp of Italian mineral water and let it fizz against my tongue.

  I cleared my throat. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  Angelina looked up from the red velvet lounge opposite me. “Are you sure, Emma? It’s still early.”

  Haithem’s fingers curled around the top of her arm, yet heat plunged directly into my core. The skin on my arm tingled as though I was the one sitting there. A
s though that was my body—me hard up against a man two parts herculean specimen and one part genius. As though I was the one ass-over-head in love. For a moment, every cell inside me swelled with something foreign and beautiful.

  My palm rose to sweep over my sticky forehead. A stickiness mimicked in my armpits and the small patch of skin that brushed between my clenched thighs. What the hell do they put in the air in Italy? Pure pheromones? I wiped my hand on the skirt of my dress.

  Sex brain, that’s it.

  I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Three weeks traveling through Italy third wheel to a smoochy couple, and I’d gone way too long without a fix of my own.

  I leaned toward Angelina. “Actually I thought I’d go out.”

  Her eyebrows rose, held there for a beat, then her lips turned up in a smile. “Well, have fun.”

  My chest gave a gentle squeeze. I loved her a little more in that instant. More than for forcing me to have a free holiday under the guise of you-have-to-for-my-wedding. I loved her for understanding my code, and for not judging it.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” I stood, then planted a kiss on her cheek, and a pat on Haithem’s shoulder.

  He offered me a smile that balanced the hard planes of his face just right. My fingertips prickled. Lucky for Sheik MacGorgeous he was about to marry my best friend, or he’d be in trouble. And damn them both, after three weeks of staring at that face of his, normal men may not cut it for me tonight.

  What are the odds of finding another smoking-hot Goliath in this hotel?

  I held in a sigh and showed myself out of the presidential suite, then headed directly for the bar. A group of men and women chattered in the entrance, and I made no attempt to avoid brushing against them to pass through. I drew in a breath. A mixed wash of perfumes infused the air, sharp and intoxicating, and I’d never inhaled such decadence in all my life. The same decadence wrapped around the people. Clothes fit better, looked better, the same way every mouthful of food I’d consumed since hopping off the plane had tasted brighter. Like stepping from a washed-out photocopy into a dazzle of color. Hard to believe I was actually in Florence.

  I reached the bar, hitching my dress up enough so that when I sat on the free stool, the split on my thigh exposed the lace of gartered stocking.

  The bartender nodded to me.

  “Sparkling water, please,” I called over the hum of music. He frowned. The Italian Haithem taught me knocked around the inside of my skull. “Acqua frizzante, per favore.”

  The bartender reached for a glass.

  I shook my head. “A bottle.”

  He frowned again. I frowned back. We didn’t cover this in our Italian 101 on the flight, but I wouldn’t accept a drink in a glass when out on my own. I made the shape of a bottle with my hands. His eyes widened. I made the shape again, then froze, fist half open in a jerking motion. A snort ruptured my nose, then a laugh. Normally when I was this vulgar, it was intentional. I twisted the top of my fist like a bottle top. The bartender laughed, and handed me a bottle.

  I paid, then cracked the top and took a refreshing gulp of water. My tongue longed for the tang of Limoncello, but I wasn’t at the bar to get drunk. I was there to get a completely different kind of hammered.

  My rule number one—only ever drink water, and from a bottle.

  Maybe it’s morbid, but I like to shag with my head on straight, and wake up knowing where I am, and preferably not murdered.

  It’s always preferable to not get murdered.

  A man squeezed into the space beside me. His elbow rested on the bar and his gaze flicked over me, as clinging as a set of tentacles.

  “Così bella...” he said.

  I smiled. On the surface, the guy was a straight-up travel postcard advertising reasons to visit Italy—olive skin and expressive features that twisted and changed with his words. “Come un angelo.”

  My smile turned to a chuckle. Only bella registered, but I could guess the theme of the rest.

  “Sei occhi brillano sono come stelle.” He moved his hands toward his face, then flicked his fingers toward the roof. My chest itched with laughter. I didn’t need to speak Italian to catch all the how-you-doin’ and eyebrow action.

  “Sorry, babe.” I slid off the stool. “I’m sure whatever you just said was way less cheesy than I imagine, but it’s just not working for me tonight.”

  Twin lines formed between his bold brows.

  I turned away and waved. The dramatic pleading tone that followed after me squeezed a chuckle out of my chest. I strode toward the balcony, pushed open the door and stepped outside. The breeze caressed my bare arms. I inhaled through my nose, shutting my eyes, then opened them a fraction at a time.

  The view from the hotel stretched out from the balcony. I gave a little shiver at being this high off the ground. The sun almost gone, sunk below the horizon, lighting the sky with the kind of intense blue that comes just before real darkness. I absorbed every shaded detail. The Florence Cathedral rose glowing from the center of the city. Patches of light and dark checkered ancient stone and rendered buildings. Mountains stood guard in the distance. I glided toward the railing. A figure at the other end of the balcony spoke into a cell phone, in a familiar clipped language. I squinted and peered at the speaker. Haithem lingered in the shadows, his back to me with a cell phone pressed to his ear. How’d he get out here so fast? I crept up behind him. The ass filling the back of his pants seemed a little rounder than usual, and it was all I could do not to give such a perfect globe of an ass a friendly tap.

  Marrying my best friend...

  I shook my head. She’s not the jealous type, but it was better for my health that I leave his butt alone, tempting as it may be to tap. I clutched my fingers to the small of my back, and waited for him to be done. When we got home, I was totally going to take some language classes. Then I would eavesdrop on these foreign conversations all the time.

  He hung up the phone, then tucked it into his jacket pocket.

  I reached out to touch his shoulder, then spouted the pick-up line I was gifted earlier. “Sei occhi brillano sono come stelle.” I exaggerated every word, bending my sounds to curl the way I’d heard them pronounced. Haithem might come across a little stoic, but now that I knew him, his humor was almost as wicked as mine. His shoulder rippled under the black of the suit jacket. He turned slowly.

  I caught sight of his traveling jaw—and my own fell open because this was not the right jaw. This jaw wasn’t Kal-El on the front of a comic book, it was sharper, the cheeks above it hollow.

  My hand fell away.

  His body followed the turn of his head. His cologne hit me like a jolt of static. Spicy, and so musky and male, maybe some of that scent was actually him. I blinked at the open shirt collar suddenly in front of my face. Most of the time I came level with men, a balance I adored. But today I stared at a collarbone. A deep biting groove at the base of a long, wide neck. Twin tendons rose up in a V on either side of a prominent Adam’s apple I could lean forward and sink my teeth right into. The thrill of being stood over struck some place deep in my core. Flipped the mechanics of how I preferred this male/female thing to be. Like maybe if I went to his room—and I knew right then without having seen his face that I would be going to this man’s room—I might actually let him be on top.

  Pure lunacy. The top was my spot. I tilted my chin and met a dark gaze. His brown eyes shone down at me, flecked with yellow like they were lit from behind. He smiled, and grooves made crescents on either side of his mouth. Mischief sprawled across his features so catastrophic that I could almost hear a chorus of hallelujahs.

  This is going to be fun.

  He smiled wider.

  My womb panged. Yep, so much fun would be happening. So much fun. Laughter bubbled out of my lips, because really all I could do was laugh. His brows shifted, hi
s gaze moving over me as though he’d never seen a person laugh before. Then his chest rumbled and the sound he released rushed straight between my thighs.

  My cheeks burned from grinning.

  “Buona sera,” he said.

  The words were familiar, but I no longer remembered what they meant. In fact, I’d lost all languages. His lips parted, and he spoke again. My gaze was sucked to his mouth. To the way his lips curved up so completely, every tooth revealed all the way to his molars.

  I was going to have awesome sex very, very soon. I felt it in my bones—the amazingness of the impending sex. Actually I felt it in my cunt, but whatever. I love my life. His lips shuffled across his teeth as he talked, words smooth and almost creamy compared to when he spoke Arabic on the phone. The tone was the same, husky and low. I had no idea what he said, but I kept on smiling.

  The only voice I ever wanted to hear again was this one. No really, the man could read obituaries, and I’d be listening, and possibly convulsing.

  I ran my gaze over him. His thick crop of shiny black hair had a wave at the crown, and although gelled back, it was long enough for burying hands in. I hoped he had strong follicles, because I intended to put his roots to the test with my fists. He fell silent, and his chin dipped.

  Am I expected to respond?

  My tongue flicked out. Exactly how did one say “May I ride you?” in Italian?

  I smiled all to one side, and held out my hand. Screw verbal cues, isn’t communication all about body language?

  He took my hand in his. My fingers heated as though they’d slid into a cocoon. His skin seemed so many degrees higher than mine.

  He pressed his mouth to my hand. I felt his lips as intensely on the thin blue-veined skin on the top of my hand as if his mouth pressed to the sensitive place below my ear.

  I’d meant to take him and lead him all the way to my suite. Rule two smashed right there. Always at the guy’s place. But tonight the need for a clean exit was moot—we were leaving in the morning, and every instinct told me I wasn’t going to be sneaking out of this man’s bed a second before I had to.