The
SEDUCTION FACTOR
Book 6— Always & Forever
Scarlett Avery
Copyright © 2016 by Scarlett Avery
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Scarlett Avery / Absolutely Naughty Publishing
Edited by RJ Locksley
Proofread by Chrissy Becker
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. This book is for sale to adults over 18.
The Seduction Factor / Scarlett Avery.
ISBN 978-1-987943-19-1
Foreword
I can't thank you enough for purchasing this sizzling read.
I’m absolutely passionate about what I do. Once I start writing, I just can't stop.
It's taking me a whole lifetime to get to the point where I’m able to live out my dream every single day.
The captivating stories and the enigmatic characters live with me throughout the writing process. I think you'll quickly notice how much care and attention I put into each one of my romance novels.
Another thing you’ll discover about me is how much I love my readers!
To thank you for buying this romance novel, I’d love for you to lose yourself in even more sultriness, sexiness and seduction!
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The Seduction Factor Series
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Book 1—Casual Encounter
Book 2—The Billionaire's Desire
Book 3—Broken
Book 4—Love Tangle
Book 5—Sinful Desires
Book 6—Always & Forever
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BOOK 6—ALWAYS & FOREVER
Chapter One
Six months after the engagement
“Queridos hermanos, nos hemos reunido hoy para celebrar la union de este hombre ya esta mujer en santo matrimonio.”
Had you told me nine months ago I’d be standing at the front of an historic church in the middle of Barcelona on such an epic day, I would’ve choked with laughter. I mean, come on. I had a better chance of getting struck by lightning than looking into a priest’s eyes as he serenades us with this moving sermon.
Although the ceremony is in Spanish, there’s no mistaking Father Miguel’s words—we’re gathered here on this glorious morning for a big-ass wedding.
“Cuando por fin se encuentran dos almas, que durante tanto tiempo se han buscado una a otra entre el gentío.”
God, that was so beautiful.
When the priest talks about the meeting of two longing souls, I fight back tears. Although I made sure to coat my lashes with waterproof mascara, this ceremony is threatening to leave me in a state of disrepair. It’s so solemn and intense. Love is such a beautiful thing.
No sooner have the words popped into my head than I furtively look at my sister Sofia, standing to my left. She’s always been the romantic, the one who’s waited all of her life for her Prince Charming to come—and did he ever. I’ve spent the better part of my life mocking her, but in this moment, it becomes clear she’s been right all along.
“… Más grandes son los gozos más dulces.”
Father Miguel’s poignant statement that true love can sometimes be marred with sacrifices, but that the sweet delight of this day trumps any heartaches of the past, nearly brings me to my knees. If anybody on this planet understands about sacrifice, the man standing to my right unequivocally does.
I can’t help but look up at his piercing blue eyes. I don’t think I’ve seen him look so handsome since meeting him. Like always, he’s dashing and suave. It’s obvious from the quivering of his lower lip he’s fighting back his emotions as much as I am. He came crashing into my life without warning and although I fought hard, in the end, I had no other choice but to open my heart to him.
“En este momento, mientras este mujer y este hombre hacen sus promesas solemnes, debemos recordarnos de los compromisos a nuestros familias y amigos que hemos hecho para soportarles y cuidarles con todo amor.”
When the priest calls on the congregation to remember the commitment we make to support and care for those we love, I’m hit with the fact that I’m standing in front of one hundred people who’ve travelled from around the world to witness the union of this beautiful love affair.
“Así que, si alguna persona puede mostrar una causa justa por la que no deberían ser unidos, que hable ahora o calle para siempre.”
This part of the ceremony cracks me up. I mean who the hell runs into a church nowadays to oppose a wedding? Seriously? I know this is Spain, but isn’t this a little old-fashioned?
No sooner have I murmured those words to myself than the heavy wooden door creaks open.
One hundred heads—including the entire wedding party’s and the priest’s—turn to the back of the church. The sounds of disapproval from the congregation hang heavy in the church. I turn to the blue-eyed man standing not too far away from me and lift my shoulder as if to ask if he knows what’s going on.
He looks as perplexed as I do. We’re all waiting with bated breath to find out who would dare interrupt such a monumental day.
It’s so insanely sunny outside, I have to squint to catch sight of the tall, broad-shouldered hunk who steps inside. He apologetically looks around the room, clasping his hands together as if he’s asking for forgiveness, as he strides down the aisle like a male supermodel sporting the latest style of the season during Milan Fashion Week.
He locks eyes with me and seductively lifts the corner of his mouth. His smile spreads to a blinding grin and my heart skips a beat or two as I realize how desperately I’ve missed him. Nikolaj. All thoughts leave my head as I drink him in. God, I love him. I’m thrilled he finally got back from Australia. He was supposed to arrive in Barcelona yesterday morning, but a terrible storm raging over the South China Sea had him grounded again soon after his jet hit the sky. Considering the worrisome news on CNN, it’s a miracle he made it. Thank God he’s safe.
He’s adorned in a black tailored suit so immaculately cut, David Beckham would be green with envy. His hair is skillfully spiked and his jaw is closely shaved—as always.
My mind immediately veers to pure filth as I take in his magnificence. In this moment, the only thing I can think about is how much I’d love to run my tongue over his lips and fist my hands in his hair as he pounds me mercilessly with his nine-inch delight. How a man can fly from the other side of the planet and arrive looking like he’s strutting down a runway, I’ll never know.
My fiancé locks eyes with me as he finds an empty spot on one of the pews. Once he’s seated, he drags his gaze away from me to focus on the crowd of guests who apparently are as fascinated with him as I am.
Once everyone around him feels confident he’s a bona fide guest and not an intruder, the congregation turns to the front of the church, but my eyes are still locked on the man I love more than life. Nikolaj flashes me a dangerously suggestive smile and even though we’ve been a couple for many months now, I still melt like crystallized sugar on top of a French crème brûlée dessert every time
he looks at me as if he wants to strip me naked and take me like an animal. Damn, I’ve barely laid eyes on him and I already want him.
I’m still caught in thoughts of pure wantonness when Sofia nudges me. Shit. I quickly return my attention to Father Miguel, avoiding my mother’s stare. She’s going to kill me unless my father wrings my neck first.
The short, balding priest readjusts his round glasses on his nose before clearing his throat. “En este dia, Julia Paulina Lafuente, y Diego Alejandro Echevarria de Balcázar, han aceptado unirse en matrimonio y han expresado su compromiso el uno al otro.”
Everything about this day is already surreal, but having the love of my life with me on the day Diego takes my mom’s hand in marriage is simply indescribable. After so many decades apart, unable to openly profess their love for each other, my parents are finally able to show the world the depth of their passion. It’s fitting that my dad Emilio and his new wife Beverly are also part of the celebration.
“Los declaro marido y mujer.”
Father Miguel barely has time to declare my parents husband and wife before an extravagantly dressed woman, also known as my new aunt Carmelita, jumps to her feet, screaming, “Mazel tov!”
Did she really have to go there?
It’s as if Diego’s older cousin gives the rest of the church permission to cheer because one hundred voices erupt in a joyful roar. Finally, Julia Paulina Lafuente Herrera is officially Julia Paulina Lafuente Echevarria.
* * *
What a tearjerker of a ceremony. Sofia and I stood as my mom’s matrons of honor while my half-brothers Enrique, Joaquín and Alejandro stood by Diego’s side. Yeah, the numbers are uneven, but my parents insisted on having all of their kids at the front of the church with them during their big day.
Since this is a Lafuente wedding, it’s no surprise it breaks with tradition. Family members on my mother’s side have never been good at following the well-trodden path and that’s not about to change now. It’s ingrained in our DNA. Father Miguel nearly had a heart attack when my mother asked him to shorten the traditional Catholic ceremony. She said she had waited long enough to marry her prince, she didn’t want things to drag on longer than they had to. Since Diego was eager to claim her, he also pressured the priest to keep the ceremony to thirty minutes instead of an hour and a half.
After a sumptuous seven-course meal and an overflowing of the finest champagne money can buy, my mom, Sofia and I are primping in one of the luxury suites at the five-star hotel where we’ll party our heads off until the wee hours of the morning. We’ve swapped out of our chic wedding attire into something more appropriate for a night of celebration.
“Mom, you look radiant,” I say, bending my knees to kiss the tiny woman on both cheeks.
“Thank you, honey.” She beams. “The makeup artist and hairstylist transformed me into someone I barely recognize.”
“You’re totally selling yourself short here.”
“Mom, Ciara’s right. Own how beautiful you look, please,” my sister begs.
“Okay. You win. I do look pretty hot,” she answers jovially. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. Other than the days you and your sister were born, this is the most magical moment of my entire life.”
Diego insisted on giving my mom the wedding of her dreams. She planned on buying an affordable low-key dress given this is her second marriage, but her husband-to-be reminded her it was the first time she married for love and he would never allow his wife to walk down the aisle in a dress that was less than spectacular. In the end, my mom selected a stunning Elie Saab beaded silver dress. It’s not a wedding dress per se, but it’s the one she wanted to wear on her big day. It not only looks stunning on her, it hugs her curves so well.
“Diego spared no expense for your big day,” I say.
“Your father spoiled me rotten. When I married Emilio, I was expecting. We were scared to death, young and penniless. We barely had a hundred dollars in savings. I wore a simple wedding dress I bought at a thrift shop. I spent every night for an entire week changing things here and there to suit my style, but it still screamed budget dress. Emilio gave me his grandmother’s gold band as my ring since he couldn’t afford anything more extravagant. It wasn’t glamorous, but I was so relieved he was willing to step up to his responsibilities and help me raise Sofia, I didn’t care if my wedding never made it to the pages of the New York Times wedding section. But Diego…” My father’s name hangs on my mom’s lips as she smiles and closes her eyes. “Your father wanted to create a fairytale extravaganza and he did.”
Diego has had two illustrious careers—as a World Cup soccer player and as one of the most sought-after sports doctors in Spain. His reputation is such that many top athletes throughout Europe call on him when they’re injured and they want the best. On top of that, his judicious real estate investments around the world have made him a very rich man. He really went all out for the woman he loves—from the dazzling canary diamond brilliant-cut engagement ring he offered my mom when he proposed on Christmas Day to this unforgettable day.
“Mom, can you believe it’s official?” My sister jumps into my mom’s arms and embraces her as I stand back and soak in the love.
“I prayed for this day to come ever since it became clear Emilio and I were destined to part ways, but I’ll tell you, I still had my doubts—even when I woke up this morning my stomach was tied in a knot. Ciara’s father and I have had quite the tumultuous journey. There were so many obstacles keeping us apart. I’m just so relieved and proud I can call him my husband and I’m thrilled you and Emilio are so accepting of my decision.”
“It’s really hard for me to be upset when I see how my dad’s new marriage to Beverly has transformed him for the better.”
“Amen to that,” I chime in.
“I don’t think I ever thought I’d ever quote that one over there,” my sister says, pointing her chin at me. “But the way I see it, both our parents finally found love.” Sofia leaves my mom’s embrace and comes running over to me. God, she’s the ultimate romantic. I’m in my five-inch heels and my big sister barely makes it to my breast even if her feet are clad in a pair of stunning high-heeled bejeweled Christian Louboutin sandals. “It’s so exciting for all three of us, don’t you think, Mom?”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. You’ve snatched the most eligible bachelor in America, your sister pretty much stole her Danish billionaire’s heart at first sight and I get to wake up every morning with the man I love. Ciara, don’t you think we all scored?” The playful glee I read in my mom’s eyes makes me burst out laughing.
“You two are crazy.”
“Yeah, but we’re the good kind of crazy, right?” Sofia says.
“Shut up and go change before Diego barges in here looking for his new wife,” I say, pushing her away with a smile on my lips.
“Ciara is right. If we don’t get out there soon, my husband will send a search party looking for me.” My mom giggles as she allows her dress to pool at her feet.
It’s a Lafuente tradition dating back many generations now. Given our background, you’ll be hard-pressed to attend a wedding of ours where we don’t lose it on the dance floor after we’ve all enjoyed a sumptuous feast. Every single family member on my mother’s side could give any professional dancer a run for their money. Although more subdued, family members on Emilio’s side can hardly keep their feet still when the sound of salsa comes blaring through the speakers.
When my dad married Beverly a few months ago, her WASPy family was taken aback by the liveliness of a Herrera wedding. The dancing started right after they had cut the cake and it never stopped until five o’clock in the morning. It’s really no surprise that my three half-brothers and pretty much every member on Diego’s side are also passionate dancers. What can I say? It’s in our blood.
Somewhere down the line, one of my great-grandmothers declared it was unacceptable to expect a bride to be able to keep up with all the dancing during the night of her
wedding when she was clad in a long white dress with delicate embroidery. The story my mother has told Sofia and I since we were little girls is the same one her mother told her. When Argentine-born bride-to-be Lorena Arteta married one of my great-great-great-grandfathers, Sergio Lafuente, she became so frustrated with her inability to sway to her favorite music on her wedding night, she boldly chopped off her wedding dress at the knee. Since then, it’s become an official part of the ceremony.
“Oh, please, Ciara, don’t use your father as an excuse because you’re in a rush to go out there and canoodle with your husband-to-be,” Sofia says.
“As if you don’t miss Bryce after not seeing him for the past week,” I retort.
“Yeah, but it’s not as urgent as you and Nikolaj.”
“Who said it was urgent?” I lie.
“Ha.” She laughs. “Who the hell are you fooling? You haven’t seen your beau in nearly a month and knowing you, little sister, you must be dying.” She flashes me an evil grin.
“Bitch,” I say under my breath, catching my mom’s disapproving stare.
Okay, Sofia is right. I can’t wait to feel Nikolaj’s hands all over me. He’s been conquering the gaming world in India and Australia while I was finishing an important design project in Berlin and Hamburg with Regent Park Luxury Developments—the same big-shot clients whose contract landed me in Toronto nine months ago. Yup, the life-changing project that allowed me to meet the man of my dreams.
It’s been a struggle for Nik and I since we both left New York three weeks ago. Texting, even sexting, no longer cuts it and we gave up on dirty Skype video chats a long time ago. I need him inside me to be satisfied.
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