Dirty Sexy Bastard Read online

  I was too good at this game. I always won. I always got the girl, even when I wasn’t sure “the girl” was what I wanted.

  Four

  Elizabeth

  As soon as the door shut behind me, I spun around, lifted both fists, and revealed nothing but my two middle fingers.

  Fuck you, King-Kincaid, I said silently with the action. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!

  And what I really meant by that was Fuck you, Dell Dyson. Because it wasn’t the financial corporation’s fault that I didn’t have enough resources to pool together and buy out my father’s shares of his company. It was my father’s fault that I had to try to come up with these backdoor entries to my inheritance in the first place.

  And it was my fault that I cared so much. Eight months since his death, and I’d become consumed with finding a way around the stupid, shitty restrictions he’d laid out in his will. I’d talked to my lawyers and then other lawyers and then more other lawyers. I’d talked to business people. I’d talked to a therapist (briefly). Approaching King-Kincaid, the company that held the majority of my investments, had been one of my last resorts.

  The only other option was one I was unwilling to consider.

  That meant that now there was nothing left to do but curse and wait out the four fucking years.

  I let out a huff of angry frustration and gave one more obscene gesture before turning on my heels and storming away from the financial advisor’s office.

  I was so upset and self-absorbed that I didn’t notice the tall, rugged businessman dressed in the perfectly tailored suit until he spoke to me.

  “There are more satisfying methods of dealing with the results of that meeting,” he said.

  I stopped short and stared at him. He was leaning against a thick, square-shaped post, studying his phone. He hadn’t even looked up when he spoke, and for a second I wasn’t sure he even had, or that he’d been talking to me.

  But then his eyes flicked up to meet mine. His gaze pierced through me. I knew that look. It was an ambitious, hungry look. It was the same intense look I saw when I looked in the mirror, though mine came through cool blue while his came in a green-brown shade.

  I scowled. What the fuck did this stranger know about my situation? “I doubt it. That felt pretty satisfying.”

  I considered the conversation over, but just as I began to walk away, he asked, “As satisfying as the addition of a multi-billion dollar corporation on your asset line?”

  He knew who I was. People sometimes did. My father hadn’t been famous in the usual sense, but people often knew him. He’d often been approached by strangers in the times we were together. Some were just avid admirers, but many others meant to take advantage of him. I’d been taught early on that this was a side effect of having wealth. I’d been taught to discern carefully between those who wanted good for me and those who wanted my good to be good for them.

  Strange that lesson had come from a man who, in the end, hadn’t cared much for me at all.

  I turned to the stranger again, my gaze narrowed. He was careful not to betray any of his motivations, which put me on guard. I should have ignored him. I should have kept walking.

  And yet...

  “Donovan Kincaid,” he said, before I had a chance to ask. He pocketed his phone and held out his hand for me to shake.

  I disregarded the offer. “You work here.” His name gave him away.

  “No, I don’t, actually.” He almost sounded offended. “That Kincaid is my father, and I’ve given him the same middle fingers on several occasions. Except to his face rather than a closed door.”

  His hand was still there, waiting for me to acknowledge it.

  I crossed my arms over my chest instead, and examined him carefully. He seemed strangely familiar. The skin on the back of my neck pricked. “That was you. At my father’s funeral. That was you watching me.”

  Great. I had a fucking stalker.

  His mouth curved into an almost smile as he slipped his hand into his inside breast pocket. “I apologize if I startled you. I didn’t intend to. Yours is simply a situation I’m interested in.”

  He pulled out a business card and held it out for me.

  I hesitated then snatched it up, quickly taking a step back from him to read his card at a safe distance.

  Donovan Kincaid, Owner

  Reach, Inc.

  Innovative Advertising and Multimedia Marketing

  New York . London . Tokyo

  His phone number, email, and New York address were typed evenly along the bottom.

  “What exactly is your interest?” I asked, stuffing the card into the purse hanging on my shoulder.

  “Oh, Elizabeth. I’m not sure that’s the best place to start, but I’d definitely like to discuss it with you. Do you have a few minutes?”

  I tensed at his familiar use of my name. Even so, I was too curious to walk away. “If you’re quick about it.”

  “Not here. See that courtyard outside?”

  He paused to give me time to glance out the window next to him. The courtyard was practically empty. There was a door that led out to it and a sidewalk ran directly to the street, but it wasn’t the main entrance, so it likely didn’t get used very often.

  “I see it.”

  “You’re going to leave using the exit that runs through that courtyard. You can text Stanton now, and let him know to meet you on Fulton Street. I’ll walk you there.”

  My skin went cold. He knew the name of my driver. That was...creepy.

  “I don’t appreciate the scare tactics, Mr. Kincaid. You obviously want me to know you’ve been spying on me.”

  “Pfft. Spying.” He dismissed my terminology. “It’s not to scare you. I prefer you think of it as being looked after.”

  He kept his expression and pose casual, as though we were acquaintances who’d happened to bump into each other. Any passerby would believe that as long as they didn’t get a look at the skeptical glower on my face.

  What was the harm? I was at the end of my options, anyway. Not that I was getting my hopes up—Donovan Kincaid, Owner likely wanted nothing more than to secure my future business with his firm.

  Well, I knew how to say no better than anyone. I’d been taught that one quite recently.

  Purposefully relaxing my features, I pulled my phone from my purse and texted my driver the instructions Kincaid had given me then dropped it back in its place. “Then let’s go, shall we?”

  He gave a deep nod, almost like a bow, and then began toward the nearly hidden exit door. He was polite, that was evident. Gentlemanly, anyway. He held the door open, and I passed by him into the sticky July heat. “Your interest?” I asked again, when his stride had brought him beside me. If I was engaging with this stranger, I wanted to keep my reins on the conversation.

  He chuckled at my impatience. “Let’s clarify the situation first, shall we?” Of course he wanted the reins too. I didn’t give them to him. He just took them. “You have a certain dilemma. I imagine by this point that you’ve run the gamut of options available to you and found you’re no closer to a solution than when you began. You can’t challenge your father’s will and hope to win. Conferring with your advisors at King-Kincaid only brought you to another dead end. Meanwhile, the fate of Dyson Media is left to a cousin you don’t trust who is slowly dismantling your father’s empire. You’re ready to implement less conventional methods. Am I right?”

  He was eerily correct. Though everything he’d said could be guessed at, I had a feeling he’d done his research. I definitely had to look into upping my security when I got home.

  “I’m familiar with my situation already, Mr. Kincaid. But thank you for the recap.” I wasn’t as polite as he’d been.

  “There is one option you’re ignoring,” he continued, as though I hadn’t just been snarky with him. “It’s understandable that you’ve avoided it. You have to trust a second party, if you take it. I’m sure that trust doesn’t come easy to you. Nor should it in this circ
umstance. But there is a tried and true way to overcome issues of trust—you just have to ensure that the outcome you desire is also desired by the second party. Do you follow?”

  He was talking about the option to marry. I’d avoided the prospect on principle alone, but even without my righteous anger, his points were valid. To make the whole thing work, I’d have to marry for love—since I wasn’t dating, this wasn’t an option anywhere on the horizon—or I’d have to utterly trust that my husband would pretend we were marrying for love and wouldn’t later try to blackmail me for undermining my father’s will. It had seemed too impossible to get around, so I hadn’t spent time thinking about it.

  Donovan’s suggestion was intriguing, though. He seemed to think there would be someone who would want me to inherit from my company now as badly as I wanted it.

  There was no reason to think he meant anyone other than himself.

  We’d reached the sidewalk. The timing was uncanny—my car was pulling up as soon as I looked for it.

  I turned to my companion, knowing our conversation would soon be over. “And why would you benefit if I took control of my father’s company now, Mr. Kincaid?” He’d probably demand a percentage of my empire. A controlling interest.

  Not happening.

  “I want Dyson Media’s advertising subsidiary. I’ll pay for it, even. I believe in being fair.”

  The advertising subsidiary? That was a surprise. Small in the scope of things, really. The company did well in the French market, but it was a minor part of the Dyson portfolio. Though, it would add the word Paris to his business card, and that was likely a benefit that Donovan Kincaid would greatly appreciate.

  I studied him a moment. The man wasn’t more than a decade older than I was, oozing with confidence and control. The kind of man my father had been in his world—masculine and kingly. He was attractive, though I wasn’t attracted to him. He was too stoic. Too ambitious. Too domineering. Too ballsy.

  Too much like me.

  “Interesting,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. “What would you be giving me in exchange for the opportunity to purchase the ad company?”

  “The groom, of course.”

  I’d suspected that’s what he was offering, but his response still had an unexpected effect on me. It almost felt like having the wind knocked out of me, but at the same time, it felt like that wind was now behind me, holding me up, supporting me. Like I was a kite and this was the gale that I’d been looking for to set me in flight.

  Donovan smiled as though he knew exactly what I was feeling. He opened the back door of my car and gestured for me to get inside.

  I stepped in, a bit dumbfounded still.

  Before he shut the door, he leaned down to the meet my eyes. “Wednesday, one-thirty at my New York office. Think about it and meet me then. When you do, I’m sure you’ll find there’s no reason not to say yes.”

  He shut the door, and my driver pulled away from the curb, leaving me with plenty to mull over. Could it work? Could I really pull off a scam marriage? Was I desperate enough to try? Was there a risk if I did?

  Not as important, but still pressing in my thoughts was the groom. Donovan surely meant to volunteer himself, but something about his tone made me wonder if it wasn’t him after all.

  And if not, then whoever could it be?

  * * *

  Ready for more? The series is complete! Read Dirty Sexy Player and Dirty Sexy Games now!

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  The Dirty Universe Continues…

  There are so many dirty men in my universe.

  And they all have filthy, rich love stories to share.

  Dirty Games Duet - Weston King

  Dirty Sexy Bastard - a free prequel

  Dirty Sexy Player

  Dirty Sexy Games

  Available Now!

  Dirty Duet - Donovan Kincaid

  Dirty Filthy Rich Boys - a free prequel

  Dirty Filthy Rich Men

  Dirty Filthy Rich Love

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  Dirty Filthy Fix - Nate Sinclair

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  Dirty Sweet Duet - Dylan Locke

  Sweet Liar

  Sweet Fate

  Coming early 2019

  Dirty Wild Duet - Cade Warren

  Coming in 2020

  Also by Laurelin Paige

  Visit my website for a more detailed reading order.

  The Fixed Universe

  Fixed Series: Fixed on You | Found in You | Forever with You | Hudson | Fixed Forever

  Found Duet: Free Me | Find Me

  Chandler (a spinoff novel)

  Falling Under You (a spinoff novella)

  Dirty Filthy Fix (a spinoff novella)

  Slay Trilogy Slay One | Slay Two (fall 2019) | Slay Three (winter 2019)

  The Dirty Universe

  Dirty Filthy Rich Boys - READ FREE

  Dirty Duet: Dirty Filthy Rich Men | Dirty Filthy Rich Love

  Dirty Sexy Bastard - READ FREE

  Dirty Games Duet: Dirty Sexy Player | Dirty Sexy Games

  Dirty Sweet Duet: Sweet Liar | Sweet Fate (early 2019)

  Dirty Filthy Fix (a spinoff novella)

  First and Last

  First Touch | Last Kiss

  Spark - short, steamy sparks of romance

  One More Time

  Ryder Brothers Close

  Want by Kayti McGee | More by JD Hawkins

  Hollywood Heat

  Sex Symbol | Star Struck

  Written with Sierra Simone

  Porn Star | Hot Cop

  Written with Kayti McGee under the name Laurelin McGee

  Miss Match | Love Struck | MisTaken | Holiday for Hire

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  About Laurelin Paige

  With over 1.7 million books sold, Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn't seem to complain, however. When she isn't reading or writing sexy stories, she's probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She's also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn't do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

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