Trust Me Read Online Annabel Joseph (Rough Love #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Rough Love Series by Annabel Joseph
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
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I laughed and rested my head against his shoulder. “I never imagined life could feel like this,” I said in the silence that followed. “I never thought I could have all this. I never thought there was a way.”

“There’s always a way.” He squeezed my hand. “Life works like this, Chere: you get what you deserve. We deserved each other.”

“No, we found each other, by chance and by luck,” I said. “And then we had to fight for what we had.”

“Which is why we deserve what we have now. It took a lot of hard work, and a lot of risk.” He gestured toward the distance. “Like that bridge over there. But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said softly. “It is.”

“I almost sent you away that day,” he said, turning back to me. “The first day, at the W Hotel. I wanted a blonde.”

“I was blonde back then.”

He touched my dark brown hair. “I wanted a natural blonde. I’m glad I finally figured out that I was looking for the wrong thing.”

He was kind enough not to point it out, but I’d been looking for the wrong thing too, for ten miserable years. Wow. We’d really worked hard to change, to get better, to give the love we shared today a fighting chance.

Aliya bounded over and deposited a handful of grass shards on Price’s knee.

“Are these diamonds?” he asked, regarding them with gravity. “Did you bring Daddy diamonds?”

She nodded with a pleased, gap-toothed grin. “Di-mons.”

She was a jeweler’s daughter. She knew what diamonds were. She loved how they sparkled, like the solitaire in my engagement ring. She loved that ring more than the garnet ring I still wore, but she didn’t know the story behind it. I thought I’d always love the garnet ring a little more.

She ran away and came back with another handful of grass, and placed it reverently in my lap.

“Di-mons, mama.”

“I see.”

“Beautiful diamond,” said Price against my ear. “Beautiful heart.”

I teared up whenever he quoted that poem. I ducked my head to hide it, but he laughed and made me look at him anyway. There was no hiding from him, which I supposed was good. Aliya spun away and ran off again, singing about diamonds and pulling up more grass.

There was always a way, if you wanted it badly enough. We’d fought for what we wanted, and now it was ours.


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