Owning Beauty (Taking Beauty Trilogy 3)

With that in mind, there was no contest. I had to let Julian Bastille into my home and my life. I just hoped that once he was here, it would be easy enough to shove him back out again.

I braced myself as I pulled open the front door, but nothing could prepare me for the glittering sea of camera flashes that met me. All the shouting and clamoring for attention had woken several of my retired neighbors, who stood on their lawns looking none too pleased about any of this. I hoped one of them had called the cops, or even that all of them had. Maybe joint complaints would make the police actually do something about this mess.

What they could do nothing about, however, was the man standing in front of me. He was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans that fit him like a glove, a band tee for The Cure, and thrown over that was a well-worn leather jacket that seemed like it had seen better days. There were a variety of patches sewn into it, though I couldn’t tell what they were for, and studs along the lapels and shoulders that glinted despite their tarnish. As I looked up into his face, my eyes dragged over the sharp cut of his jaw, the squareness of it giving way to a set of high, prominent cheekbones. That made the shading of his eye sockets a little heavier than was normal, but one thing the shadows did for him was make his gorgeous eyes glow.

I opened my mouth to speak to say something, anything to the man who had ruined so much for me—perhaps irrevocably. But my throat betrayed me, clenching and holding fast in the face of such preternatural beauty and that riveting, verdant haze.

Come on, I willed myself. At least invite him in so you can close the door on these buzzards, for Christ’s sakes!

But I just stood there, breathless and dumbstruck. I could hear myself stammering, making a fool of myself, but there was nothing I could do about it. It was like I was under some sort of spell.

One that was abruptly broken when Julian grinned puckishly and said, “Hello, Lizzie. I’ve missed you.”

Julian

This woman was nothing like I’d anticipated.

Elizabeth Lawson was a vision. Not that I’d expected her to be anything else, but she was somehow… more. I’d seen my share of models and actresses, plenty of sexy bartenders and exotic dancers too. I was, in many ways, accustomed to their beauty. Their svelte, willowy bodies. Long, toned legs. Picture-perfect makeup and hair at all times. Everything about them was carefully sculpted, arranged just so.

But this girl was different. Standing there just past the threshold, she was wearing a baggy pair of pajama pants and what appeared to be a tanktop just hauled out of the bottom of a laundry bin, with her hair in a loose ponytail and her face completely devoid of makeup. I could smell the fresh scent of her, and judging by the dampness of her locks, it was obvious she’d just stepped out of the shower not long before my arrival.

Half-dressed and looking more than a little pissed at me, she was more glamorous, more intensely beautiful than any other woman I’d ever had the pleasure of being with. That made me wish all the more that I could remember what we’d done together. God willing, we might just get to make some new memories.

“Mind if I come in?” I asked, flashing a charming smile I’d used a thousand times to get girls into the sack. “I think we’ve got some things to talk about.”

“You’re damned right we do,” Elizabeth said, her scowl deepening as she moved aside to let me cross the threshold. The door shut behind me and her anger only seemed to deepen. “You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do. And don’t call me Lizzie if you want to keep breathing.”

I could feel my smile faltering. From the tone of her voice I could tell that she wasn’t exactly thrilled with this situation—though I couldn’t blame her, honestly.

Unless this girl was one hell of an actress, that threw Tessa’s theory about her being some kind of scheming gold-digger right out the window. I felt the muscles in my shoulders loosen just a little. Maybe that would have made things easier, had she been heartless, but it was nice to know she wasn’t.

“Well…” I began, trying my best to come up with some way to spell out the situation that didn’t leave me sounding like a complete idiot. But before I could even get out a second syllable, the door burst open again and Tessa pushed her way in behind me.

“You’re not going to say another word, Julian,” she said, slamming the door in an overly eager photographer’s face.

“Who the hell are you?” Elizabeth asked, narrowing her eyes as Tessa strode into the center of the room.

“I’m the person who’s about to change your life,” Tessa replied, letting out a little laugh.

“I think my life’s been changed plenty, thanks,” Elizabeth said, holding her hand up to stop Tessa from continuing on. “All I want is for things to go back to normal—which means you both need to get the hell out of here. Forever.”

“Come now Lizzie,” I said, trying to sound appealing. “We know this situation isn’t precisely ideal, but if you hear me and Tessa out, maybe we can—”

The way Elizabeth turned her gaze on me stopped me cold, and were it possible, I think steam might have billowed from her nostrils. Her face flushed with color, her hands clenching—I knew immediately that I’d done something terribly wrong.

And then I remembered what she’d said to me at the door.

Oh, balls.

“Don’t ever call me Lizzie,” she said, her voice just barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat. This woman was utterly terrifying when she was mad—even at a whole foot shorter than me.

“Sorry, love,” I replied, doing my damnedest not to sound as frightened as I was. I was used to dealing with women who were a mite less dangerous than this one was, and a lot more willing to strip down to their knickers at the snap of my fingers. Seeing a girl like this was not something I was at all accustomed to… and hell, it was almost refreshing.

“No offense meant.”

“Shut it, Jules,” Tessa hissed at me, her gaze as withering as ever. I’d learned over the years that it was best to let Tessa deal with things like this, mostly from her constantly reminding me as much.

“Ms. Lawson,” Tessa began, a thin smile stretching her lips, “Do you think maybe we could speak for a moment, alone?”

She motioned toward the corner and I became suddenly aware that Elizabeth had company. This tall one looked a

little happier to see me. Her cheeks flushed red as we locked eyes.

“She is staying. There isn’t a damn thing you can say to me that you can’t say to her,” Elizabeth said angrily.

Tessa turned to the tall woman in the corner as if noticing her for the first time. “And you are?”

“Jennifer Crane,” she answered, folding her arms over her chest. “My friends call me Jenna or Jen.” She smiled. “Which means you can call me Jennifer.”

Tess just gave her a little nod. “We understand what a shock this must be to you Elizabeth. That being said, we think that perhaps we could turn this… happy accident to our mutual benefit.”

“Happy accident? What in the hell are you talking about?” Elizabeth asked. “There’s no way that I’m doing anything except filing for a divorce or an annulment! What ‘mutual benefit’ do you think there is to any of this?”

“Well,” Tessa said, taking a breath and steadying herself against Elizabeth’s shouting, “there is the matter of financial compensation. We’d be willing to negotiate a sizable settlement when we do deem a divorce to be prudent to our goals.”

“Your goals?” Jen asked, cocking a brow. “What does that even mean?”

Tessa blinked impassively. “I’m sure you’d find it fascinating. Although, I do believe I was talking to Ms. Lawson here. Or rather, Mrs. Bastille.”

The way Elizabeth flinched when Tessa mentioned my last name hurt a little. Was I really so unappealing to her? And why? Every other woman I’d met looked at me like I was the juiciest steak they’d ever lain eyes on. But not her. Not Elizabeth. I rubbed at the back of my neck. Was this why she’d run out on me in Vegas?

“You’ll have to leave,” Tessa continued, examining her nails. “I won’t continue this conversation any further with a fourth party in the room.”

“She’s my friend!” Elizabeth protested, drawing Tessa’s attention again. “And the only one I have in this room. She’s not going anywhere.”