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Love Forged: Twisting Love Series, #1
Love Forged: Twisting Love Series, #1
Love Forged: Twisting Love Series, #1
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Love Forged: Twisting Love Series, #1

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Why does she reappear in his life out of the blue?

10 years ago…
 

Jefferson Quinley, a handsome college playboy.

Olivia Bower, a naive college student.

Theirs was a brief relationship.

Ending when he dropped her flat.


Now…


He is a successful financial consultant.

Married to a wealthy society lady.

She is the sole owner of a thriving business.

And seeks his help for financial advice.

 

But what does she really want?
 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 27, 2021
ISBN9798201295356
Love Forged: Twisting Love Series, #1
Author

M. L. Ray

M. L. Ray is an author of contemporary and paranormal romance. She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since a young age.

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    Book preview

    Love Forged - M. L. Ray

    M. L. Ray

    Love Forged

    Twisting Love Series Book 1

    Copyright 2021 M. L. Ray

    © 2021 M. L. Ray

    License Note:

    All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

    If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy online where they can also discover many other works by this author.

    Thank you for your support.

    Synopsis

    It’s the basis for every fairy tale ever written: the handsome, generous, good-hearted prince, and the poor but beautiful young girl he takes for his wife.

    Except that Jefferson Quinley, while handsome, is neither generous nor good-hearted. He is instead a college playboy, taking advantage of the fact that so many female students are so readily available for his attentions.

    Nor is Olivia Bower beautiful. She is rather plain. And naïve.

    Still, she understands what kind of man Jeff is, and, not wanting to be hurt, keeps her distance.

    Which presents quite a challenge to the Harvey Benton College senior. Deciding to take up the cause, he pursues her until she finally accepts, and their relationship as a couple continues for a brief while. After the one time he connives her into his bed, however, he is no longer interested, and he drops her flat.

    Flash forward ten years to Jeff, who is now a successful financial consultant, living outside of New York City and wedded to an extremely wealthy society lady. While their marriage may not be made in heaven, on the surface they manage to keep things going no matter what troubles lie underneath.

    Out of the blue, Olivia Bower reappears in Jeff’s life. She is sole owner of a thriving little business called Just Livvie, selling the hats and accessories which she creates, and she is seeking Jeff’s help to straighten out some problems with her financial affairs.

    Although she has become a stunning, confident beauty, who turns heads wherever she goes—especially wearing such delicious, unique headgear—he restrains himself from getting emotionally involved. He is, after all, a married man.

    Jeff had treated her very badly, back in those college days of the long-ago past. Why would she possibly want to see him again, even in a business capacity? Why go out of her way to be so pleasant, unless she has an ulterior motive? Her continued presence, on the fringe of his environment, feels almost like stalking, and he wonders what it is she’s after. An affair, and the breakup of his marriage, might be just the retribution she wants.

    Or is it?

    Prologue

    Ten years earlier

    The bullet went zinging straight across the room, from doorway to vine-shaded window, which shattered upon impact. As it zinged, it passed through the bodies of three Harvey Benton College students, an economics professor, and a pendant lamp. Oddly enough, there was no blood. Only a long deep sigh, like the passing of a summer breeze.

    Someone’s heavy book slipped off his desk onto the floor, with a crash.

    Jefferson Quinley shook himself out of a boredom-induced stupor and back to full consciousness. No, that scenario wouldn’t work at all. Needed to change characters, or setting. Or ditch the whole fantasy and wake up.

    Whatever had possessed him to sign on for this class? Campus buzz complained about how the teachings of Elroy Hawkins notoriously put his undergrads to sleep. Stifling a yawn, Jeff glanced around the cramped overheated room, with too small a quota even to rate one of the bigger auditoriums. Two guys far to the right were staring dazedly off into space; another to his left, slumped far down on his spine, was actually nodding off.

    It didn’t matter to Professor Hawkins. He droned on. And on. Bumblebees collecting pollen in today’s September sunshine couldn’t have done better.

    Only three females had elected to set foot in this class. Two were decently attractive but were, he’d noticed, already attached at the hip to a couple of fellow academics. The third was barely worth his while. Slouchy, cheap clothes; schlumpy figure; unfashionable glasses on top of a sizable nose; long, sort of reddish hair braided like a milkmaid’s. Not much to look at there.

    Jeff, yawning in earnest, wondered if there’d be any point in moving in on her. Might as well add another notch to his belt. He’d already nailed a conspicuous number of co-eds, as it was, over the past three years. And, given the way she looked, she’d put out all over the place in sheer gratitude for the attentions of a sexy player like yours truly. Besides, a conquest would be something else to brag about to his crew of hangers-on. As if he needed anything to brag about.

    Huh. She seemed to be pretty pathetic. But plain girls were always much more appreciative of a little consideration, and it wasn’t so important how they looked above the neck if all the parts down below were working as they should. Plus, he was at loose ends right now, anyhow.

    A question, Mr. Quinley?

    Oh, bunkum. Unconsciously he’d stretched one arm overhead, as if calling for attention. Uh—no, Professor. Sorry.

    The ring of the bell brought an audible sigh as students, released from their seats like sled dogs released from harness, gathered their books, laptops, and miscellaneous belongings to herd noisily out into the hall. Anyone not tall enough to claim space might have been trampled in the rush.

    Hey! Hey, you—uh, Miss, wait up a sec, will you?

    She was a fast one, this girl he was claiming as his temporary target. Put her head down and barreled on through the crowd like a linebacker. But his voice, and the tap of a stretched-out arm in her direction, stopped her cold. Astonished, she backed up against the paneled wall, pushed her sliding glasses into place, and waited for him to approach.

    Who, me?

    Well, yeah, you. He gave her the slow, smoldering smile that never failed to elicit a response. Too bad no mirror was handy; Jeff knew he was always at his best during the initial stages of pursuit: biscuit-brown hair artfully tousled, blue eyes alert and attentive, tall athletic body with its work-out muscles the envy of males and females alike. I’m sorry, I missed seeing you before, and I didn’t catch your name.

    Oh. Um. Well. She seemed to have shrunk a couple more inches in height, if that were possible, and her gaze was fastened on her feet. Yes, I—um—just transferred in.

    Yeah? Where from?

    He had braced one hand on the wall behind her and eased in a step closer, which seemed to be causing her some distress. Her breathing had quickened, her complexion had flushed a little, and her myopic gaze slid up to his face and back down again. Um—from New Hampshire...we just moved here, and I’ve been trying to—listen, I have to go. I mean, I really need to get going, because—

    Oh, too bad. I’m done with classes for the day, so I thought I’d see if you wanted to go grab something to eat. Jeff Quinley, by the way. His left hand remained where it was; his right hand reached for a quick shake, which meant he could move closer still. Not pushy. Not aggressive. Just available.

    Um—Olivia. Olivia Bower. She ducked her head, and the untidy braid swung over one shoulder. No, I can’t, I’m sorry. But thank you, anyway.

    Well, Olivia Bower, it’s nice to meet you. Guess I’ll be seeing you in class, then. Twice a week, right? Maybe next time you won’t be so busy, and we can get to know each other better.

    She was like a little brown rabbit, frantic to escape. Maybe. And she hastened away.

    Jeff stood watching her bob and weave through the thinning crowd toward a doorway. An odd duck. Which might make his plans more challenging. Oh, well. What else did he have on his plate right now? Just studying, to get his degree, go on to graduate school, and make a fortune on Wall Street.

    It was another week before he saw her again. His behavior must have scared her away, because she didn’t show up for the next class. And he missed the one after that, because he had better things to do at the time. Namely, taking to bed one of the more popular girls from Advanced English Literature.

    But there he was, in early October, when maple and oak leaves were turning to burnished gold around this north Chicago suburb, sitting so directly behind her in that same stuffy classroom as to definitely cause unease. Oh, Jeff wasn’t crass or juvenile enough that he would poke her in the shoulder with his pen, to gain attention, or tug on the slightly frowzy braid that switched from side to side with every turn of her head. But he could read decided discomfort in her stiffened posture and refusal to acknowledge his presence.

    The professor had posted a few charts and graphs for a PPT lecture that was no more exciting than his usual nasalized speeches. Jeff suffered through the worst of it, yawning and mentally complaining about his lack of foresight. Instead he daydreamed about the luscious Lana, and what they had done for and to each other, until the crotch of his jeans began to feel inordinately tight.

    Which primed his physical state to casually accost the unluscious Olivia once more, halfway down the hall once their torturous hour was finished.

    Hey, Liv. Are you rushing off somewhere again?

    Actually—um—yes, I am. Apparently she had gained some courage from somewhere, for she bravely met his gaze without even a tremble.

    Oh, yeah? He flashed his dimples—not enough to set her heart thumping madly, just a small sample to keep her interested—along with the patented blue-eyed twinkle. Got a hot date?

    Color rushed into her sallow cheeks. Not in the way you mean. I have a job.

    A football player the size of Yankee Stadium squeezed through a nearby door and began huffing and puffing his way toward them. Courteously but quickly, Jeff drew Olivia out of the way of collision and then waited until the Colossus was safely past.

    Job, huh? Well, far be it from me to keep you. Is it something you like doing?

    Her face suddenly lit up, as if a candle had been set aflame somewhere inside, making her for a moment almost attractive. I’ll say. I volunteer two days a week at Arnold Animal Shelter.

    His hand on her elbow urged her forward, toward the door and a cooling autumn day. An animal shelter? What d’you do there?

    Whatever needs to be done. Walk the dogs, write up intakes and adoptions, general cleaning, ordering supplies—you name it. They always need help, so I do what I can.

    Huh. Sounds like a worthwhile cause. Jeff wouldn’t know, since he had never donated free time to any cause of any kind, anywhere. As for animals, he could take them or leave them. The only animal he felt totally concerned with was the one he saw in the mirror every day: his own beautiful self. And you just moving into town, besides. I’m still trying to get you to join me for coffee sometime, Miss Do-Gooder Bower, to find out more about you.

    Olivia stopped dead to peer up at him; the jade-green eyes behind the tortoiseshell glasses gleamed with sudden sharp intelligence. Why?

    Why what?

    Why do you want to find out more about me?

    Well. Uh. Never having been asked so direct a question before by his admiring fans, Jeff, who was no slouch either in the intelligence department, now fumbled for an answer. Well. You’re new to the area. And the school.

    I am.

    And—uh...well. Just thought maybe we could—uh—be friends.

    Friends. She repeated the word in a skeptical tone. Sure.

    Jeff was suddenly taken by the disturbing notion that that cool, penetrating stare saw right through him, past all the subterfuge, deep into the heart of where he actually lived. Why not friends? he decided to challenge her.

    Looking him up and down, as if the answer should be obvious, she then shrugged. Because you’re BMOC, and I’m—well, I’m who you see here. But have it your way. I have to go now.

    And once again she scurried away, leaving a disgruntled Jeff in possession of the corridor.

    At least she seemed to be coming out of her shell. He was beginning to wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.

    Another two weeks of cajolery and tongue-in-cheek flattery passed before he could convince her to at least meet with him in the student cafeteria for a Coke. Although she did inform him, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t drink the stuff because it corroded the innards.

    What, then? Jeff asked without the slightest hint of impatience.

    Hot tea. And honey with lemon. Smiling, she pushed her glasses back in place and plunked herself and her battered laptop at a chosen table.

    Sighing, he shambled off in his athletic, loose-limbed gait. It was getting to the point where the game wasn’t worth the work involved. At this rate, he’d never get this wallflower into bed, and he might as well go back to Lana, if she were still available. Still, there was something about that smile...

    "You were going to tell

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