Andrea Laurence - Rags To Riches Baby

“Thank you,” Lucy said as reluctantly as she could manage.

“I’m not all bad.”

“That’s good to know. I was starting to feel sorry for Harper having to grow up with you.”

“Oh, you can still feel sorry for her. I was a horrible big brother. I made her life hell for years.” Oliver laughed again, thinking of some of the wicked things he’d done to his sister. “One time, when she was about eight, I convinced her that my father’s new Ming vase was made of Silly Putty and would bounce if she dropped it onto the floor. She got in so much trouble. Dad wouldn’t believe her when she said I’d told her that. He grounded her for an extra week for lying.”

Lucy covered her mouth with her hand to hide a reluctant smile. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked. “You’re not here to fight with me, and yet you’re out here making small talk with me instead of inside with Jonah and your friends. What’s your angle?”

That was a good question. He hadn’t exactly planned any of this. He’d just wanted to get her away from the crowd before they made a scene. Once they stopped arguing, he was surprised to find he enjoyed talking with Lucy. There was an understated charm to her. The longer he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend. It was an intriguing and dangerous proposition, but one that explained his aunt’s bold decision. If he felt swayed by her, his elderly aunt hadn’t stood a chance.

“I don’t have an angle, Lucy.” Or if he did, he wasn’t going to tell her so. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out what my aunt saw in you.”

Lucy opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hands to silence her. “I don’t mean it like that, so don’t get defensive. I’ve just been thinking that if my aunt really did want to leave you half a billion dollars, you had to be a pretty special person.” Oliver leaned closer, unconsciously closing the gap between them. “I guess I’m curious to get to know you better and learn more about you.”

Lucy’s nose wrinkled, but for the first time, it didn’t appear to be because she was annoyed with him. “What do you think so far?” she asked.

“So far...” He sought out the smart answer, but just decided to be honest. “...I like you. More than I should, given the circumstances. So far, you’ve proven to be an exciting, intelligent and beautiful adversary.”

Lucy’s lips parted softly at his words. “Did you say beautiful?”

Oliver nodded. Before he could respond aloud, Lucy launched herself into his arms. Her pink lips collided with his own just as her body pressed into him. He was stunned stiff for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her tighter against him.

Kissing Lucy wasn’t at all what he expected. Nothing about her was what he expected. She didn’t back down from what she’d started. She was bold, opening up to him and seeking his tongue out with her own. Oliver couldn’t help but respond to her. She was more enthusiastic and demanding than any woman he may have ever kissed before.

This wasn’t the smart thing. Or the proper thing. But he couldn’t make himself pull away from her. She tasted like sweet, baby-shower punch, and she smelled like lavender. He wanted to draw her scent into his lungs and hold it there.

But then it was over.

As she pulled away, Oliver felt a surge of unwanted desire wash over him. It was the last thing he needed right now—with Lucy of all women—but he couldn’t deny what he felt. It took everything he had not to reach for her and pull her back into his arms again. He was glad he didn’t, though, as his need for her was stunted by a sudden blow to the face as Lucy punched him in the nose.

Four

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lucy asked with outrage in her voice as she backed away from him.

Oliver didn’t immediately reply. First, he had to figure out what the hell had just happened. He was being kissed one second, hit the next and now he was being yelled at.

“Me?” He brought his hand up to his throbbing nose and winced. It wasn’t broken, but there was blood running over his fingers. He’d never actually had a woman hit him before. One for the bucket list, he supposed. “You’re the one that kissed me!”

“I did not,” she insisted.

Oliver frowned and sighed, reaching into his coat for his pocket square to soak up the blood. Harper had never mentioned Lucy being impulsive, but he was learning new things about her all the time. It had been ten seconds since their lips had touched and it hadn’t been his doing. Surely she recalled that. “Yeah, you did kiss me. I said you were beautiful and you threw yourself at me.”

Lucy must have been caught up in the moment, because she seemed very much embarrassed by the truth of his blunt description. Her skin was suddenly crimson against her white dress and she wasn’t even the one who got punched. “Yes...well...you kissed me back,” she managed.

What was he supposed to do? Just stand there? Oliver was not a passive man, especially when the physical was involved. “My apologies, Miss Campbell. Next time a woman kisses me, I’ll politely wait until she’s finished with me and hit her instead.”

Lucy took a cautious step back at his words, making him grin even though he shouldn’t.

“I’m not going to hit you,” Oliver said, dabbing at his nose one last time and stuffing the handkerchief into his pocket. “I’ve never hit a woman and I’m not going to start now. Although it would be nice if you would extend me the same courtesy. What ever happened to an old-fashioned slap of outrage? You straight-up punched me in the face. You hit hard, too.”

She twisted her pink lips for a moment before nodding softly. “I take kickboxing classes twice a week. I’m sorry I hit you. It was almost a reflex. I was...startled.”

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