Tempt Me

Tempt Me Solitaire Eve Newton Copyright © 2023 by Eve Newton All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Contents Preface 1. Rue 2. Isaac 3. Rue 4. Isaac 5. Rue 6. Isaac 7. Rue 8. Isaac 9. Rue 10. Isaac 11. Rue 12. Isaac 13. Rue 14. Isaac 15. Isaac 16. Rue 17. Isaac 18. Rue 19. Isaac 20. Rue 21. Isaac 22. Rue 23. Isaac 24. Rue 25. Isaac 26. Rue 27. Rue 28. Isaac 29. Isaac 30. Rue 31. Isaac 32. Rue 33. Rue 34. Isaac 35. Rue 36. Isaac 37. Isaac 38. Rue 39. Isaac 40. Rue 41. Rue About the Author Also by Eve Newton Preface Dear Readers, This is a fairly dark, age-gap forbidden romance that is book 1 of a duet. Content warning for violence. Thanks for reading! Eve Chapter 1 Rue Taking in the dark-haired good looks of the older man in front of me, his tanned skin and black eyes glinting with a sense of something wicked that, unfortunately for this situation, does something to my soul. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I hiss to my parents, standing there all innocent like they didn’t just try to set me up in an arranged marriage. “Not kidding,” Mom replies with a sinister tinge in her tone. “Antonio is a powerful ally, and we will be happy to have him as part of Solitaire.” “Then recruit him in the normal way.” My clenched jaw is giving me a headache. How dare they do this. Not only is this my thirtieth birthday which they’ve just ruined, but really? What is this? The Middle Ages? “Forgive me,” Antonio purrs, his hand over his heart. “But perhaps this is something you wish to discuss in private.” “No. Stay where you are,” I snarl, glaring at my parents. “This is so far outside of what should be occurring, I can’t even.” “We understand your reluctance,” Dad says, using that tone on me that drags everyone under his spell whether they want it or not. But it doesn’t work on me. He should know better by now not to bother. “But this is going ahead three months from today to give you and your mother time to plan a great ceremony that the whole of Solitaire will celebrate.” “Eurgh.” Folding my arms defiantly, I avoid looking at Antonio. He is like the cat that got the cream, and why wouldn’t he be? Not to blow my own trumpet, but hey, someone has to, right? I’m a catch. My parents are as high up the Secret Society food chain as it gets, bar one man, who no one except them even knows. As their daughter, I’m heir to that throne someday, with the right man by my side to work as a team in the exact same way my parents do. They are renowned, respected, and feared. They both enjoy the gory side of death, and that’s where I get my own tastes from, but still. This is abhorrent. I am not the marrying type. And even if I were, this guy wouldn’t be it. He is practically drooling all over me. Twenty years younger than him, gorgeous, and an actual Princess in the royal sense, and not just the Society, he is eager to solidify this union in every way possible, but he doesn’t cut it for me. He’s too eager, too happy to be here. If he were reluctant or downright rude and disgusted, then maybe I would be more attracted to him. Fucked up? Yep, that’s me. But I like what I like, and I don’t yuk on other people’s yum, so I don’t appreciate it when people do it to me. Not that I care, usually. My heart of stone beats for a few people whose opinion matters, but not many. Getting too close to me isn’t an option. Too many lies to tell, too many secrets. The clue’s in the name: Secret Society. Solitaire does not take kindly to outsiders finding out about them. To be recruited, you are invited by a high-ranking member. There is no other way. Being aware that my parents are trying to groom me to one day take over from them is, in its own way, flattering, but trying to marry me off to someone they chose is going down like a lead balloon. “Rue,” Mom says, again with a warning in her tone. “This is happening, so get on board, yes?” “No.” Francesca Di’Castello blows out her breath, almost amused by my defiance. I know she is. I am exactly like her. Tall, slender, and raven-haired, I look like her, speak like her, have her mannerisms and feisty attitude. Prince Viktor Di’Castello of Arachon, a small but exceptionally wealthy country in Europe, is less amused. I can see on his handsome face that he is fuming under his calm exterior. But Dad only brought it on himself. He knows me, and he knows this will be eating me alive inside. Part of me understands why they’re doing it. Left to my own devices, I would be single forever, but it doesn’t change the outcome. No. No, no, no. “Antonio,” I say sweetly. “Would you mind giving us some privacy now?” “Of course,” he says, bowing slightly before he leaves. “Rue, dear,” Mom says, coming over to me to brush my long dark hair out of my face. “This is all part of the plan. Once you agree to this, your father and I can promote you. You can move swiftly up the ranks once we are assured you are settled and ready for the commitment.” “I am ready.” “We understand that you think you are, but there are responsibilities within the Society that require you to share the burden,