The Art of Love Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Exclusive Book For You

  The Art of Love

  Taming the Billionaire

  Book 2

  Kayla C. Oliver

  Let’s get to know each other…

  WARNING:

  This book contains sexually explicit content and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only. Please ensure this book is stored in a location that cannot be accessed by underage readers.

  Copyright © 2017 by Kayla C. Oliver

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Signing Him (Bonus book)

  Virgin’s Desire (Bonus book)

  Touch Me (Preview)

  Exclusive Book For You

  Contact Page

  Exclusive Book For You

  Get your exclusive and free copy of Temptation!

  She had the opportunity of a lifetime right at her fingertips, but the passion she found in his arms could destroy it all.

  Happy reading!

  Kayla C. Oliver

  Chapter One

  Eliza

  There is something so satisfying about finishing a really long day at work and looking around at your clients, knowing they will leave with some serious peace of mind. I loved my job; it was pretty much everything that drove me. Just a year ago I was only working part-time for Zen Studios, spending the other half of my time designing clothes for a really crappy company in the Bronx. Now, though, I was running Zen Fitness in the Art District and had my own line of yoga wear for sale in the shop.

  Missy and I had been friends for years, and she was definitely someone I looked up to. She used to do all but three yoga classes herself, not to mention run the sessions for the handful of personal training clients she took on. Zen had only been open two years, but it already had a second store, which was how I ended up the operating manager of this location. Missy had worked her butt off, but her big break came when she met Mason, the owner of one of the largest record companies in the world. It was definitely a whirlwind romance, and just a year ago she opened a new Zen Studios on the bottom floor of the record company, right in the center of Manhattan.

  I knew I couldn’t take on clients like Missy could, so we marketed the hell out of the Art District location and ended up so full of clients we had to hire an entire staff. I was finally doing what I wanted to do—managing, teaching, and designing—and all for a really amazing woman who happened to also be my best friend. We met when we went to NYU together.

  I grew up in Massachusetts and ended up in New York at the ripe age of seventeen, venturing far from home to go to college. My mother and father owned their own empire, having created a gardening center that blew up about the time I was five. It’s now a multinational chain. They were loaded, to say the least, and I used to spend my time just living off their dime and floating through life. However, when I met Missy and started to work at Zen, I saw that I needed my own life. I needed to be in a business that made me as motivated as Missy was on a daily basis. I seriously had only seen her take like three days off her entire first year of being open, and that was to visit her grandmother and sort out the craziness with Mason. Every other day she was on the grind, ready to push the studio to new heights.

  Currently, I am trying to push the studio further, hoping that she will make me a partner. She had talked about it before, feeling like her time was taken up with Mason and the studio in Manhattan, and it was only fair that I made my fair share of the profits for all the hard work I was putting in. It was definitely something I wanted; I just needed to push to get there.

  Speaking of Missy, I rushed through the studio, thanking Nina, the front-desk girl, for closing up shop so I could get ready for the engagement party. Missy and Mason had gotten engaged at the opening of the studio in Manhattan a year ago, but with all the work they had going on, they pushed the engagement party off until now. I was never a really big fan of parties, but I was the maid of honor, and I would never leave Missy alone to fight through the rich bitches and affluent gentlemen who were coming as guests of Mason. He knew so many people we had to rent out the ballroom at the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan to house them all, and this was just the engagement party. I had no idea how Missy dealt with that kind of wedding planning, but she seemed to really love it.

  I grabbed my bag and headed up the stairs to Missy’s apartment. It was right above the studio, which was very convenient. I lived down the block, but Missy said when she was fully moved into Mason’s, I could take her place. It meant very little rent and being super close to work, so I was down. Plus, it was a lot bigger and way nicer than my current place.

  “Hey,” I said, walking into the apartment.

  “Hey,” Missy said excitedly. “You ready to party?”

  “Um, yeah, sure.” I laughed. “Though I don’t know how much of a rave this is going to be with so many rich people there.”

  “Yeah, well, at least it’s an open bar.” Missy shrugged. “Are you bringing a date?”

  “No.” I laughed. “Byron was supposed to come with me, but that definitely fell through, and it can keep falling.”

  “Aw,” she said with a pouty lip. “You okay?”

  “Me? Yeah,” I scoffed. “He wasn’t even that interesting. Besides, I have other things I want to focus on, so men can take a back seat.”

  “I never thought I would hear you say that.” Missy laughed. “You were the wild and crazy dater who said it was okay that I date Mason.”

  “Well, things have changed a lot,” I sighed. “And there are literally no good men left in the city now.”

  “Yeah, I snagged the last one,” she joked.

  “Can I clone him?” I plopped down on the couch next to her and picked up the shot glass she just filled with Fireball. “Like I’ll change his face or whatever so it’s not weird.”

 
“I didn’t know you were a mad scientist now,” Missy said with a laugh. “You’ll find someone. Promise.”

  “Well, here is to your storybook romance, and my bleak future with men,” I said, holding up the shot.

  “Here, here.” She smiled.

  We took the shot and both winced at the same time, forgetting how pungent Fireball could be. We went to work getting ready for the event, which gave me the opportunity to unveil the outfit I had made for her party. It was a short black dress with lace overlay that draped across my shoulders. The lace was see-through and gave a slender appeal to my short neck.

  “Gorgeous,” Missy said. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes, let’s,” I said in my best rich-person impression.

  The limo was waiting out front for us when we came down, and Missy smiled, running ahead and jumping into Mason’s arms as he stepped out of the limo. I shook my head and walked carefully down the stairs in my six-inch heels, hoping that I didn’t eat shit right there on the sidewalk. I hugged Mason and climbed into the limo, sad that I was now the third wheel.

  When we pulled up at the venue, I shook my head, looking out at the red carpet and lights that had been laid out for them. It was like being the best friend of a celebrity and everything was always on fleek. I walked in first, allowing them to make their grand entrance. When I got inside, I was escorted to my table at the front with the other members of the wedding party. At least I would halfway know some people while I was there.

  I sat there all evening, listening to speeches, eating dinner, watching other couples move across the dance floor, and eventually admitting to myself that I felt completely lost. Missy and Mason were the perfect freaking couple, and though I was so glad my best friend was happy, I couldn’t help being jealous of the two of them. They had the perfect relationship. Mason adored Missy and would go to the ends of the earth to make her happy. Missy felt the same exact way about Mason, and I had seen a seriously huge change in her since she met him. Me? I was skulking around in dark corners, trying to find a man but not trusting them when I did.

  I had been in a relationship before Byron that I really thought was going to be it. I met the guy before Missy met Mason, and I fell head over heels for him. However, after catching him with another woman in his bed—on our six-month anniversary—I became a little skeptical about whether or not a man could be trusted. Sure, I had my one-night stands, but I was a relationship girl in the end. The problem was, there weren’t many good guys left out there, and when I found one, I talked myself out of it every time. I was terrified of being hurt like that again. I was pretty much done after that.

  So instead, I became the single best friend that Mason always tried to set up, but it never actually worked out in the end. I moved through the crowds of people, smiling nicely, talking to the old people, and leaving at the end of the night, alone and full of Fireball. I felt like this engagement party was going to be no exception to that rule.

  I looked around the room and stared at all the couples dancing together, flashing Missy and Mason a fake smile. They waved at me, and I chuckled to myself, wanting to throw myself in the punch bowl. There were so many people there that I didn’t recognize and so many couples that it made me want to puke. Yes, I was that girl. The girl who hates your PDA, but if it were me, I would think it’s was too adorable. I was a bit of hypocrite when it came to things like that.

  I sighed and walked over to the bar, tapping my fingers on the counter as if I wasn’t going to sit down and post up there the rest of the night. I was seriously getting to know every bartender in the city from the number of events I was attending with Mason and Missy. I enjoyed the ones at the record company because I got to meet famous musicians, but the rest of them were very corporate oriented, which I had never been. I struggled through those evenings and was thankful that I was small and cute with a bubbly personality because it kept me from having to answer a bunch of questions.

  I sat down at the bar and ordered a beer and a shot of Fireball. The bartender poured my beer into a glass and handed me a nifty little glass with the whiskey in it. It was like the tiniest champagne glass in history. I was really starting to become astounded by the strange things rich people did with their liquor, and I came from a rich family. There was definitely a difference between New York City rich and Massachusetts rich.

  I shrugged and took the shot, setting it down and nodding when he asked if I wanted another. If I was going to sit there and watch couple after couple sashay across the room, I was going to get damn drunk while I did it. I mean, what did it matter? I wasn’t a loud or obnoxious drunk, and it might give me the courage to get out there on the dance floor and get down with some of the old geezers who had too many taps in the whiskey bottle earlier in the day, resulting in a bad white grandpa dance.

  I laughed to myself at the joke that no one but me heard. I was starting to talk to myself now—great. I noticed someone walk up beside me and order a drink, but I wasn’t paying any attention at all. That was until he spoke.

  “It’s like a bad couples’ prom out there tonight,” the voice joked.

  “Right?” I said, turning my head toward the man and gawking slightly at how handsome he was.

  “Anthony,” he said, reaching out his hand.

  I was in trouble already.

  Chapter Two

  Anthony

  I hated these kinds of events. They were so crowded, you never know who you were sitting with, and you were celebrating someone else’s happily ever after. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mason—he was an amazing guy, and he found himself an equally amazing girl—but celebrating with two hundred people seemed pointless to me. I guess I didn’t always hate these events; in fact, ten years ago I could remember looking forward to them. But that was before Amy died.

  I had met Amy in college, and we were instantly pulled to each other. She was beautiful, sassy, and kept me on the right track. We had such a beautiful life together with a gorgeous home, a relationship that made people jealous, and were planning to start a family soon. But then it happened—we were out on the fourth of July, watching fireworks on the boat, and a bunch of drunk teenagers plowed right into us. Amy fell overboard and was later found in the river. I had sustained some pretty serious injuries but was able to make a full recovery. At least that’s what they called it, but in my mind, I could never fully recover from losing her.

  Now, instead of being one of the happy mushy couples dancing on the floor, I was a bitter middle-aged businessman who wore his ring as a deterrent to the old folks to ask me when I was getting married. I was glad I wore it that day because I happened to be seated with pretty much every older-than-Jesus person in attendance. They were nice, don’t get me wrong, but they were definitely nosy. I was the only actual single one at the table, but no one said anything to me about it, besides glancing down at my ring and asking where my wife was. I made up a story, not wanting to see the pity on their faces when I told them I was a widower.

  I picked at my crab cakes, wondering how long I needed to stay before it was no longer rude to leave. The only person I saw alone was a cute pixy-haired woman sitting at the wedding party table, but she seemed to be having a good time, regardless of her single status. If she was part of the wedding party, then Mason would know her well, and I thought about digging for some information. She was really cute, and her eyes glimmered in the lights from the chandelier just like Amy’s had. I tried not to compare any woman to Amy since I was pretty much against any kind of commitment whatsoever.

  After dinner was done, I stood up stretching, watching the girl make her way over to the bar and take a seat. I figured this would be the perfect time to go over and talk to her, but as I made my way through the crowd, Mason and Missy stepped in front of me.

  “Hey, man, thanks for coming,” Mason said, hugging me. “Anthony, this is my bride-to-be, Missy.”

  “It’s really nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. “I’ve heard some really amazing things about you from Ma
son.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear,” she said, laughing. “If you guys will excuse me, I need to speak to Eliza.”

  We both nodded and I watched her walk over to the girl at the bar and hip check her on the side. Eliza, huh. That name, for some reason, fit her absolutely perfectly, and I imagined her sprouting wings and flying off, her perfect curves swishing in the wind as she went. I could tell Mason was staring at me, so I looked back at him and laughed.

  “Eliza, huh,” I said, sticking my hands in my pockets.

  “Hold on, playboy,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Eliza is the maid of honor and a really amazing woman. She doesn’t need your shady ways.”

  “Shady? I am open and honest with every woman I meet,” I said, feigning shock.

  I had known Mason for about seven years and had met him at a conference where his parents were presenting. I owned the marketing firm that helped him get his record label off the ground, and we instantly became friends. He knew my story, and he also knew my fear of commitment and the perpetual revolving door of women. I knew if he was protecting her, she must be something special.

  “Seriously, though,” Mason said. “She’s been through a lot the past year. Just leave her be.”

  “All right,” I said, putting up my hands. “So how about you? You look happy as a clam.”

  “I am,” he said, laughing. “I couldn’t imagine a better woman in my life.”

  “I am really happy for you,” I said, thinking about Amy and twisting the ring on my finger. “Cherish her, every second.”

  “I will,” he said, giving me a knowing stare. “You think you’ll ever find another woman?”

  “Me?” I snorted. “Nah, man. Amy was it for me. I couldn’t imagine anyone taking her place.”