Legally Charming (Ever After Book 1)

  Legally Charming

  Lauren Smith

  Lauren Smith

  Contents

  Other Titles By Lauren Smith

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother

  Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother

  Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Lauren Smith

  Edited by Lauren Plude

  Excerpt from Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother by Lauren Smith, Copyright © 2016

  Cover art by Croco Designs

  Stock photo art from Deposit Photos and protected by copyright of the photographer

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at lauren@laurensmithbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-0-9974237-1-6 (e-book edition)

  ISBN: 978-0-9974237-2-3 (print edition)

  ISBN: 978-0-9974237-1-6

  Created with Vellum

  Other Titles By Lauren Smith

  Historical

  The League of Rogues Series

  Wicked Designs

  His Wicked Seduction

  Her Wicked Proposal

  Wicked Rivals

  His Wicked Secret (coming soon)

  The Seduction Series

  The Duelist’s Seduction

  The Rakehell’s Seduction

  The Rogue’s Seduction (coming soon)

  Standalone Stories

  Tempted by A Rogue

  Contemporary

  The Surrender Series

  The Gilded Cuff

  The Gilded Cage

  The Gilded Chain

  Her British Stepbrother

  Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother

  Seduction: Her British Stepbrother

  Climax: Her British Stepbrother

  Paranormal

  Dark Seductions Series

  The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall

  The Love Bites Series

  The Bite of Winter

  Brotherhood of the Blood Moon Series

  Blood Moon on the Rise

  Sci-Fi Romance

  Cyborg Genesis Series

  Across the Stars (coming 2017)

  To my father, a true gentleman lawyer and to baby Hayley, a beautiful gummy bear. I also have to thank my friends Jennifer H. Liz M. and Kerri H. for their love and support!

  1

  A man wearing only the bottom half of a Star Wars stormtrooper outfit streaked past Felicity Hart. She ducked out of the way as the half-naked frat boy whooped and bounced to the music, heading straight for a group of girls wearing white bunny ears who were gathered by the kitchen bar.

  So this is what grad student parties are like.

  Drinking, dancing, and insanity. Felicity shook her head, trying not to laugh. After growing up in a small town in Nebraska, she hadn’t been prepared for college life in Chicago. Talk about culture shock. She was used to everyone in town knowing not just her name, but far too much about her personal life. Even after six years of living here, being surrounded by thousands of strangers who knew absolutely nothing about her, it was still both completely unsettling and oddly liberating.

  For the first four years of college and the past two years of her master’s, she’d hidden in her little shell. But a few months ago she’d met Layla Russo, a graduate student just like her, and they’d hit it off. Layla was the only reason Felicity had pulled a Cinderella and come to the ball. She would have laughed at the thought, but she was dead tired and stifled a yawn instead. At this rate, she’d turn into a pumpkin before midnight.

  Happy Birthday to me, she thought and fisted her hands in the voluminous skirts of her Tudor gown. She stood out too much at this party—which happened when you skipped over the sexy cat costumes and zeroed in on the classy Anne Boleyn Tudor ball gown. Felicity should have worn some cheap costume, but she just couldn’t do it. Halloween was her favorite holiday. She’d scrimped and saved to buy a good costume, one that meant something to her. She’d been lucky enough to find this gown on a deep-discount rack at a costume warehouse. Hence the beautiful, elegant, yet still sexy gown she wore at that moment. At least it had been sexy in the sixteenth century.

  I am such a nerd.

  She had gotten her share of raised eyebrows and smothered laughs when she’d entered the apartment with her friends, but she didn’t care. She was ready to celebrate her entrance into adulthood at a normal party. Even if it had taken her until graduate school to be brave enough to attend a social gathering like this.

  And why shouldn’t she? She’d worked hard—late-night study sessions, endless art exhibit submissions—all in the hope of attaining grades that would be good enough to take her from a small Nebraska town to the hip art communities of Chicago. She deserved a party. And going to one at Layla’s boyfriend’s fancy apartment was safe enough since it was close to the school and the gallery where she worked.

  Several laughing girls bumped into her, plastic cups brimming with alcohol. She danced back a step, narrowly avoiding drenching her gown in cheap beer as one of the girls stumbled in her heels, sending her cup flying through the air.

  “Shit!” the girl hissed, then started giggling with her friends as she bent over to clean up the mess.

  The entire night had been one near miss after another. The last thing Felicity needed was her costume smelling like beer.

  She glanced at the group of pretty girls in the bunny ears and the gathering of boys around them.

  Why didn’t I think of wearing something like that? She glanced at the girls with their perfect bikini bodies, and she blushed. There was no way she could run around in something skimpy like that and feel confident. She just didn’t look good in tight clothes…or revealing clothes. She was a size twelve, which was just a little too plump to look good in a skintight costume. She shuddered at the thought of being so exposed.

  The crowd of people thinned out as she headed toward the room she sought. She took a moment to pause, one hand resting on the wall as she tried to suck in a breath. Maybe the corset was a bad idea.

  “Hey!” A familiar feminine voice cut through the noise, and Felicity looked over her shoulder.

  Layla was the official hostess of the party even though the apartment belonged to her boyfriend, Tanner, and she certainly acted l
ike it as she strode toward her. She was a sight—five foot, curvy, and completely rocking her zombie stripper costume. Amazingly, Layla managed to look both scary and cute as she crossed the room in her four-inch stilettos. Felicity knew without a doubt that she’d break her neck in shoes like that, which was why she’d opted for red silk slippers that matched her gown.

  “Hey, you okay?” Layla reached her and linked her arm through Felicity’s. “I saw you yawning from across the room.”

  Felicity wrinkled her nose. “Just tired. Been up since dawn, have a midterm paper due tomorrow, and I feel every minute of a year older.” Felicity wrinkled her nose. “Is it still all right to crash in Tanner’s brother’s bedroom?”

  “Of course! I don’t want you having to travel across half the city tonight to get back to that little hole in the wall you live in.” Layla linked her arm through Felicity’s. “I really wish you’d just move in with me.” Her friend pouted dramatically, but Felicity stiffened her spine in an attempt resist Layla’s begging.

  “As much as I love your apartment, Layla, it’s out my budget at the moment.” It was double what her tiny place was, and Felicity’s budget was already stretched thin. “You sure Tanner’s brother won’t mind?” It still felt weird to be sleeping in a guy’s bed whether he was there or not.

  “Yeah. Jared won’t be back till Sunday night, so you’re welcome to stay the whole weekend,” Layla said. “Besides, even if he wasn’t spending the entire weekend working, he’d never be caught dead anywhere near a party like this. That workaholic wouldn’t know fun if it bit him in the ass.” She snorted as though picturing just that. “Are you sure you’re just tired, birthday girl?”

  With her classes and her part-time job, Felicity was grateful for early nights where she could find them—and the prospect of staying up into the wee hours and endangering her beloved dress didn’t hold much appeal. No, the sweet song of a comfy bed and a few hours of oblivion was calling to her.

  “I’m good!” she insisted. “Go have more fun and don’t worry about me. Go find Tanner before he realizes you’ve ditched him.” Felicity pointed to Layla’s boyfriend, who was politely escaping the group of bunnies and searching about for Layla.

  Tanner Redmond and Layla had hooked up the first day of classes five years ago and had been together ever since. He was hot, smart, and totally nice, not at all like some of the entitled jerks she had to deal with when she handled rich clients at the gallery where she worked, which was a shocker given that he was a rich kid. He and his older brother, Jared, shared this beautiful apartment. She’d never met Jared. Even though she’d spent the last three months around Tanner and Layla, the mysterious older brother had never once shown up.

  Layla’s dark eyes ran up and down Felicity with concern. “You sure you don’t want to stay out here? You don’t have to crash now. Unless you’re not feeling well?” Layla cocked one hip, her hand perched there as she continued to study Felicity. Felicity swallowed down the flutter of nerves that always came whenever her friend tried to make her participate more in the student culture, but she shook her head. She wasn’t good at being fun and spontaneous or wild. Graduate student life seemed to be built on those three things when one wasn’t studying or writing papers. It was just her luck that she was too shy to be bold in life like Layla.

  It never ceased to amaze Felicity how much of a mother hen her friend could be.

  “I’m good,” she answered Layla, her voice firm. Sometimes she had to use a “parent voice” in order to get Layla to stop mothering her. “Go and have fun. You said the bedroom is the last on the left?”

  “Yup. And seriously, stay the weekend. Just come back here after your midterm, and we can hang out.” Layla’s offer was tempting, and Felicity found herself more than considering it. It sure would be nice to crash here for a few days. “I still can’t believe you have a term paper due on the Saturday after Halloween,” Layla muttered. “Ugh.” Layla wrinkled her nose. “Some teachers are jerks. I’d be happy to make a voodoo doll of him, and we can shove pins in him.” Her friend was grinning wickedly as she suggested this.

  Felicity bit back a laugh. “If I didn’t like Professor Willoughby as much as I do, I might take you up on that.”

  Layla escorted her all the way to the door and then curved her arms around Felicity in a hug. Her throat tightened as she fought off the fierce happiness that came over her whenever her friend hugged her.

  Layla didn’t hug by halves—she gripped you hard, squeezed the air out of your lungs, and made you feel loved.

  Felicity just wasn’t used to that—unlike Layla with her sprawling and loud family that found it natural to hug and kiss constantly, Felicity’s parents were not overtly affectionate. They were sweet, and she knew they loved her, but they didn’t put their affection on display like Layla—unbridled and consuming.

  “Just do me a favor. Get some rest and kick butt on your research tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Felicity stuck her tongue out, and they both giggled.

  As Layla turned back to the party, Felicity slipped into the sanctuary and relative quiet of the dark bedroom. Her breath caught as she took in the view of the city through the tall windows. The skyline of downtown Chicago was a man-made mountain range of lights twinkling in a sea of black. The sky behind the buildings was a soft purple, cutting a contrast against the silhouettes of the buildings. It was one amazing view, and it always made her breathless when she caught a glimpse of the monolithic buildings. Her hands ached to sketch the sight, but she hadn’t brought her pad with her.

  Fifteen stories up, none of the city sounds that kept her up at night could be heard from Jared’s bedroom. She liked that. She wandered over to the window, wanting to sate herself on the sight of glittering lights and an endless glowing horizon. When she’d had her fill of the view, she turned back to investigate just what sort of room she would be spending the night in.

  A massive bed against one wall with a cherrywood headboard and a deep crimson comforter looked soft and inviting. The scent of aftershave and an enticing masculine aroma made her all too aware again that this was a man’s domain. She scanned the rest of the room. A large desk was laden with files and paperwork. If he was such a workaholic, why didn’t he spend more time at this desk and enjoy the view? If she had this to look at all day, she could see the appeal of working from home. But as a lawyer, maybe he didn’t get that option, and had to be in the office all day.

  It suddenly bothered her that she had no idea what Jared looked like. Being in his personal space like this was oddly intimate, and it felt strange seeing so much of the man without ever having seen his face. As an artist, all she did was think about what things and people looked like. Not being able to see the features or the build of the man who lived here was unsettling.

  Layla had said he was thirty and panty-melting hot—but not as hot as Tanner, of course. Layla wasn’t the type of girl to really eye another man when she was happily in love, but she did appreciate beauty of the masculine variety. Felicity had laughed at the thought. She’d never seen any guy worth calling panty-melting hot, at least none outside of the movies. Layla said that Jared could give Jamie Dornan a run for his money on hotness and intensity.

  Layla’s words came back to her, and she smiled as she could hear her friend’s voice so clearly in her head. “You know what I’m talking about. Tanner is all sorts of brooding and intense. He can just look at you and you go all wet and melty, you know? Like he’d fuck you so good you’d break the bed and ask for more. Jared’s like that, too.” Felicity hadn’t been able to get that out of her mind. Layla had said Tanner was just like Jared, only younger. It explained everything. Tanner’s intensity was tempered by his youth and sweetness, but his older brother had that jaded, hot bad-boy thing going on, according to Layla.

  Now she stood in said panty-melter’s room and couldn’t help but picture a gorgeous, sexy man walking through the room, putting on a suit, critically eyeing his appearance in the mirror over
the dresser.

  Unable to resist and knowing it was completely inappropriate, she opened the top drawer of the beautiful dark dresser. Neatly rolled ties of a dozen different colors and patterns decorated the drawer, and a set of different styles of watches with leather and metal bands sat next to a box filled with cufflinks that glinted like jewels beneath the glass lid.

  “Wow.” She trailed her fingertips over the watches. A man with refined, expensive tastes.

  Felicity watched the shadows play across the room, accenting the bed where Jared slept. What would it be like to share a bed with a man like him? To be the focus of all that raw masculinity and sexual energy? Her body hummed at the fantasy her mind seemed determined to play out. Her skin burned at the thought of what could happen if he came here tonight and found her in his bedroom. What if he just stood there, blocking the door, staring down at her? What if he told her to strip off her clothes and get into bed?

  God, I need to get laid. Felicity shook her head. Even though she was a virgin, her fantasies could get wild. She struggled to get her libido under control.

  Felicity sighed as she leaned against the bed, relishing the moment to bask in such luxury. She smoothed a hand over the red comforter. Satin? No, silk. She was tempted to lie down, just for a bit, but she knew she should change into her PJ’s before getting in. She tried the nearest door, only to discover a large walk-in-closet with dozens of suits and a tall rack of expensive leather shoes. Not the bathroom. Her bag was supposed to be in the bathroom where Layla had said she’d put it. She approached the last door she hadn’t opened. Felicity flicked on the light, found her bag sitting on the marble floor, and then searched through her clothes. When she didn’t immediately find them, she dumped her gym bag over, muttering as she dug through the contents on the bed.

  “Damn!” No pajamas. She’d left them at home.