Seduced by Stratton (The English Brothers Book 4) Read Online Free Page A

it. You’re such a nice girl.”
    Valeria looked down, rolling her eyes as she heard Mr. Henderson shuffle out of the bathroom.
    “Ready, Rosemary?”
    “Been ready for half an hour already.”
    “See you next week, Val,” said Mr. Henderson, holding the door for his wife.
    “See ya, Mr. H.”
    Valeria looked up and waved as they slipped out the door.
    “‘You’re such a nice girl,’” she whispered scornfully under her breath, unstrapping the second shoe and placing it beside its mate. Standing up in front of the floor to ceiling mirrored wall, she looked at herself. “Not . . . such a beautiful girl, with your bushy hair and fat lips. Not … such a slim girl with your child-bearing hips, big boobs, and tricked out trunk.” She popped it for good measure.
    While Valeria knew she came across as a pretty confident person—and really, she was—like most women, her looks were a source of insecurity for her. It probably didn’t help that her best friend and roommate, Emily Edwards, was blonde, thin, and marrying Barrett English, the oldest and second hottest of the English brothers, while Valeria had trouble getting a date.
    She took a deep breath, turning right and then left before huffing, “Oh, just forget it!” loudly at her figure and sitting back down on the stool to pull heavy socks and boots over her pink tights. Once on, she stood and looked in the mirror again.
    Her hair wouldn’t cooperate by staying in the bun she’d made before the Hendersons’ lesson an hour ago, and escaped tendrils of curly frizz framed her face. Her eyes were brown, with dark lashes that never needed mascara a day in her life, but her gaze dropped to her full lips and she pursed them, wishing they looked more delicate and less pillowy. Her breasts practically spilled out of a clingy, black, long-sleeved leotard that showed every curve in her hourglass figure. She wore a filmy pink skirt around her waist and pink tights disappeared into her furry black Uggs. Ugh is right.
    Turning away, she walked across the studio, stopping to stare at the vintage pictures of a young Sophia Loren, her aunt’s favorite actress, hung up in a massive collage near the exit door. In the middle of the collage, written on a white index card, were the numbers 38”—24”—38”. As a child, Valeria hadn’t known what those numbers meant, but as a woman with the same measurements, now she did. She just wished that the 1950s-style, voluptuous Sophia Loren was still the yardstick for beauty.
    On any other day, she probably wouldn’t be giving herself such a hard time, but in one hour she had a meeting with the fourth oldest and first hottest of the English brothers, Stratton. And though she was very proud of her Italian roots, she wished she looked a little less, well, ethnic today.
    “Hey, hey, hey, Val! Looking good.”
    Valeria looked up to see Danny Morello, her aunt’s fix-it man, entering the studio. She’d known Danny all her life—he was from her neighborhood and their parents were good friends.
    “Thanks, Danny.”
    “When you goin’ out with me?” he asked, raking his eyes down her body before waggling his eyebrows at her.
    “Mmmm. Tempting. Like dating my brother.”
    Danny thought about this for several seconds. “You don’t have a brother, do you?”
    “You’ve known me since I was born, Danny! No, I don’t have a brother.”
    “How do you know dating me would be like dating your brother if you don’t got one?”
    She stared at him for a moment, about a dozen snappy retorts jockeying for her attention. In the end she shook her head and smiled back at him. “Forget it.”
    He grinned at her. “I’m serious, Val. We could get some dinner. Go dancing. You’re a good dancer, right? You could teach me some moves.”
    He set his workbox on the floor and put his hands up in dancing position. Valeria chuckled, pushing him on the chest good-naturedly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    He put his hands on his hips. “But I