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Beautiful Broken Vows (Nakiki Island) Small town, Enemies to lovers, Marriage of Convenience by SJ Cavaletti ➱ Book Release with Rafflecopter

 


Title: Beautiful Broken Vows
Series: Nakiki Island
Author: SJ Cavaletti
Genre: Contemporary
Tropes: Small Town Romance; Enemies to Lovers; Marriage of Convenience
Release Date: March 16, 2023


Most starving artists would drop to their knees for Rafael. Not me.
But I still agree to marry him.
In my small town, there’s no one more arrogant than billionaire heir Rafael Palmquist, who thinks he owns everyone and everything on the island. I thought I saw the last of him when we crossed paths over The Incident in college, but fate had other plans.
Or Raf does.
After a run-in on his fake date with my sister, Raf asks to meet. Turns out, he needs a wife to inherit his family’s art kingdom. I’m an artist who’s never made it and he promises to make my dreams come true and money for my family, in exchange for a little I do.
Raf might have my name signed on the dotted line, and his ring on my finger, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m the only woman on the island who can resist his appeal. Pretending to be his wife blurs the lines between us, but I’m determined to be the one thing on this island that Rafael Palmquist can’t buy.
Too bad he has other ideas...

A sinfully steamy, small-town romance where a totally in-control billionaire finally meets his match. The one woman who unbuttons him, is the one who can’t stand him... and happens to be his wife.

 






But every time she rocked herself to gape out the left or right window, a burst of color erupted from between her shifting thighs, the color of bright lava, and it made my groin just as hot. I imagined myself sliding up the privacy screen, yanking aside her panties, and burying myself balls-deep in her hot, wet pussy. But then I’d think again about how much the doorman had wanted to do that, too, and I seethed.

I’d thought it would be easy to keep my hands off Emi. But since we’d cleared the air, since she’d made friends with my father, since she’d turned me on with her jealousy in the office… it was all changing. 

I reminded myself what was at stake. If things didn’t work out with each other, I might put Palms back up for Astrid. And it would devastate my dad. 

What was at stake was far more than getting laid. More than falling in love. Because seeing my dad suffer over the loss of my mom, I knew love never ended well. I couldn’t let sex and my raging libido or some feelings fuck this up. I grabbed my wool coat and laid it over her legs. 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“That dress. I told you to wear tights with it.”

“I didn’t have time to get any. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been painting like all day and night.”

I had noticed. And her unexpected grit and devotion was just another thing that added to the attraction… fuck.

She flicked the coat off her legs and considered me playfully. A cheeky little smile challenged me. She had no idea what kind of push-pull repressed torture was raging inside me. 

She bobbled her head, joking. “No man will tell me how to dress. It’s up to you to not look or touch. It’s not up to me to censor myself.”

I loved how she was her own woman. But I really needed her to cover those legs. Like now. My pants grew tighter with every move she made. And now, her sweet rebellion was making me even harder because it was so damn attractive. 

I raised an eyebrow. “Well, darling feminist wife of mine, I have news for you. You only get the money and the fame if you get good reviews playing this starring role.” I picked up the coat from aside her and tossed it back on her lap. “Put on your costume.” And then the image of that fucking footman returned and, as if some green-eyed goblin used me as a puppet, I said, “My eyes only, Emi.”

I hadn’t meant to sound so possessive. But she really needed to play by the rules before one of us broke them.

She paused for a beat, and her face searched mine. Was I serious? She didn’t fucking care if I was. This was Emi we were dealing with, after all.

She brushed the coat aside again and stared me in the eyes defiantly. 

She tugged the middle part of her dress fabric down an inch further between her legs, rolled her lips together, then let them pop. 

“I have a question…” she narrowed her eyes, saucy and brazen. “… my dear husband. Am I covering up for all these so-called people looking at me? Or am I covering up for you?”

I should have known she’d be the first to dare. The first to cross the line. The first to play with fire.

I gave in to temptation, “Which would you rather?” 

She pursed her lips. “Well… I asked you first.”

I was better at silence than she was. I’d starve her out. It only took a few seconds…

“Both,” she said. “You want me to cover up for both. You don’t want to see it. You don’t want them to see it.”

She stated as though this was facts, but clearly, she still questioned. It would have been better if I’d left her in that state of wonder. Let her think I didn’t like what I saw. That I wasn’t turned on. But I remembered I’d left her feeling insecure once. And I sure as hell wouldn’t do it twice. Not after the way she’d carried my stupid comment from years ago. Not after the way I’d seen just how messed up CJ was. 

“Em, trust me… I want to see it.” I gazed at her sincerely. “But it’s better for us both if I don’t.”

She considered me, satisfaction glowing her cheeks. And then her expression shifted, flirty, but a hell of a lot more sultry than before. Shit. Paris was in the air, and we were both getting high on it.

The result would soon show in my pants. I thought she’d drop it there. It all would have been so much easier if she had.

“Don’t you think being out as husband and wife will be easier this weekend if you let yourself like me just a little bit more than you do?” 

“I like you plenty. More now than I used to.”

“I like you more now, too…”

My heart stuttered, but I said what had to be said. “But this is a professional arrangement.” 

“And if it wasn’t?” 

God, I loved those flirty brown bedroom eyes… they were totally, utterly irresistible.

I shuffled forward and placed my knee between her thighs, moving my leg side to side until she let her thighs fall open, revealing those brightly colored panties. “If it wasn’t, Wife, I’d have a sliver of satin between my teeth right now.”




SJ Cavaletti is a spicy, small town romance author. She lives on a farm in England with her husband, three kids, ponies, cat, dogs, chickens and likely many more animals by the time you read this.

When she’s not writing, she can be found hiking and swimming in the sea. Like every respectable woman she also loves drinking champagne and eating half of every chocolate in a truffles box.

Her spirit animal is a butterfly.



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