A LOVE CALLED SIMON – BLURB:
No more men.
No more rich men.
That was what I vowed when I left New York and moved to Seattle until I met Simon Young, CEO of Young International, one of the largest luxury hotel chains in the world. He desired me and I let him. I was fully aware of his love for women and his hatred for relationships but I decided to play his game. I had a void that needed to be fulfilled and Simon Young was the man who could do it. Entering into a physical relationship only was the plan. No strings and no emotions allowed. But plans are made to be changed and rules are meant to be broken. We grew closer and I was falling in love, but Simon had a secret. A secret that would destroy everything. He was about to lose me and I was willing to walk away.
As soon as we boarded the plane, I put my bag in the overhead above our first-class seats. It was heavy and overloaded with all the souvenirs and shopping we did in Vegas, or should I say that I did. Brendon, my boyfriend of six years, planned this little trip, which I thought was only going to be the two of us, but as usual, he invited a few of his friends to tag along. Friends that I couldn’t stand. Arrogant, self-absorbed, and womanizing rich boys.
“Thanks for your help.” I glared at Brendon as I took my seat next to him.
“It’s your shit. Not mine. You were the one who did all the shopping, so deal with it.”
“You’re an ass.”
“And you’re a bitch.”
I slowly shook my head and glanced over at the gentleman that was staring at me from across the aisle. For the love of God, he was hot. I gave him a friendly smile and then looked away. Brendon took out his iPad and began to check his emails just as the captain announced over the speakers that there was a slight delay in take-off. I sighed and reached in my purse to grab my Kindle.
“What?” Brendon asked.
“I thought I put my Kindle in my purse. I must have put it in my bag.” I sighed as I got up and reached for the overhead.
I looked at Brendon when I was having trouble reaching my bag and taking it down. “Can you please help me? You’re a lot taller than I am.”
“Fuck no. Like I said, it’s your shit, not mine. Just sit your ass down and watch a movie or something. For fuck’s sake, Gabby, you’re driving me nuts already,” he spewed as he put his Beats on.
I flinched when I felt a light touch against the small of my back.
“Here; let me help you since your friend over there won’t,” a rugged voice spoke.
Sandi Lynn, a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, spends her days writing full-time to provide her readers romance novels that will whisk them away to another world. She has a severe coffee addiction and can usually be found hanging out at the local Starbucks with her laptop, sipping lattes, and writing her books.