The photos are goofy and out of focus, exactly like they should be for tourists.
They’re nothing like the glossy-magazine videos that London takes. She started posting on Instagram again but her TikTok has really taken off. The reveal of her role in the scandal only heightened her celebrity. She has an actual page on Wikipedia now. The good stuff gets posted to social media, but she still sends funny outtakes direct to my phone.
We walk through the shops on Champs-Élysées and pick up lotions and scarves for outrageous amounts of Euros until my feet hurt so much that Elijah insists on carrying me to the car.
He doesn’t let me get out of bed until the next morning.
On the fifth day of our honeymoon I find a new dress on the bed when we come back from an afternoon visiting Sacré-Cœur. “Are you taking me on a date?”
Elijah gives me a mysterious look and turns the next hour into a fun game involving me trying to get ready and him trying to interrupt the process with orgasms. He only stops when a glance at his watch tells him that we’re going to be late.
I slap him on the shoulder when the car pulls up in front of a large white building with high arches and an elaborate facade. A crowd of well-dressed people enter the front doors.
“Where are we?”
“The Théâtre de la Ville.”
My eyes widen when I take in the poster announcing tonight’s presentation. A world class violinist. Samantha Brooks. I’ve only met her once, at the small civil ceremony that wed Elijah and me. “You didn’t tell me your brother was going to be here.”
“They had the concert booked a long time ago. Liam was going to leave me alone. He said we didn’t have to come, but I told him I could stop fucking you for a couple hours, probably. It will be a hardship, but I’m willing to do it for family.”
My cheeks heat. “You did not say that to him.”
“Of course I did, though now that I think about it, what’s the point of going without? I’m sure we can find a nice quiet, dark place behind some velvet curtains somewhere.”
It’s not only one of his brothers.
We meet Joshua and Bethany in the third row.
He’s wearing a tux. She’s wearing a beautiful diaphanous purple gown that makes her look like majesty even sitting down. She gives us a shy wave hello.
Josh smirks at Elijah “I didn’t think you two honeymooners were going to make it. Did you get stuck in your hotel room?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Elijah tells him good-naturedly. “Where’s Liam?”
“Backstage with Samantha.” Joshua leans over Elijah, looking like he’s about to say something else, but the lights dim before he can. We are at home in this small circle of family. His family. Mine. “Never mind—I’ll tell you later.”
A single light illuminates the stage, and Samantha Brooks comes out from the wings, ethereal in a silk black dress. She takes her position center stage and bows her head over her violin.
I hold my breath.
The theater falls into a deep, surreal silence. We’re all waiting for her to move, for the song to begin. It’s the exact feeling I had at sixteen in the moments before I met Elijah.
Stillness, then motion. Silence, then a beginning.
Samantha draws her bow across the strings.
We’re not waiting anymore.
The tune she plays is both haunting and romantic, and beside me, Elijah takes a deep breath. He reaches for me without looking. It’s a good assumption. I’ll always be here, next to him.
I link my fingers with his and hold his hand tight.
* * *
Thank you for reading TAKEN! There’s a free bonus epilogue, too. Make sure you’re signed up for the VIP Reader list so you get it in your inbox:
www.skyewarren.com/silver-epilogue
And if you loved the North brothers, read Liam North’s story now!
Forbidden fruit never tasted this sweet…
“Swoon-worthy, forbidden, and sexy, Liam North is my new obsession.”
– New York Times bestselling author Claire Contreras
The world knows Samantha Brooks as the violin prodigy. She guards her secret truth—the desire she harbors for her guardian.
Liam North got custody of her six years ago. She’s all grown up now, but he still treats her like a child. No matter how much he wants her.
No matter how bad he aches for one taste.
READ OVERTURE NOW >
The middle North brother Joshua also has a book!
Blood and sweat. Bethany Lewis danced her way out of poverty. She’s a world class athlete… with a debt to pay.
Joshua North always gets what he wants. And the mercenary wants Bethany in his bed. He wants her beautiful little body bent to his will.
She doesn’t surrender to his kiss.
He doesn’t back down from a challenge.
It’s going to be a sensual fight… to the death.
AUDITION is an emotional second chance romance!
Keep reading for an excerpt from OVERTURE…
* * *
Rest, Liam told me.
He’s right about a lot of things. Maybe he’s right about this. I climb onto the cool pink sheets, hoping that a nap will suddenly make me content with this quiet little life.
Even though I know it won’t.
Besides, I’m too wired to actually sleep. The white lace coverlet is both delicate and comfy. It’s actually what I would have picked out for myself, except I didn’t pick it out. I’ve been incapable of picking anything, of choosing anything, of deciding anything as part of some deep-seated fear that I’ll be abandoned.
The coverlet, like everything else in my life, simply appeared.
And the person responsible for its appearance? Liam North.
I climb under the blanket and stare at the ceiling. My body feels overly warm, but it still feels good to be tucked into the blankets. The blankets he picked out for me.
It’s really so wrong to think of him in a sexual way. He’s my guardian, literally. Legally. And he has never done anything to make me think he sees me in a sexual way.
This is it. This is the answer.
I don’t need to go skinny-dipping in the lake down the hill. Thinking about Liam North in a sexual way is my fast car. My parachute out of a plane.
My eyes squeeze shut.
That’s all it takes to see Liam’s stern expression, those fathomless green eyes and the glint of dark blond whiskers that are always there by late afternoon. And then there’s the way he touched me. My forehead, sure, but it’s more than he’s done before. That broad palm on my sensitive skin.
My thighs press together. They want something between them, and I give them a pillow. Even the way I masturbate is small and timid, never making a sound, barely moving at all, but I can’t change it now. I can’t moan or throw back my head even for the sake of rebellion.
But I can push my hips against the pillow, rocking my whole body as I imagine Liam doing more than touching my forehead. He would trail his hand down my cheek, my neck, my shoulder.
Repressed. I’m so repressed it’s hard to imagine more than that.
I make myself do it, make myself trail my hand down between my breasts, where it’s warm and velvety soft, where I imagine Liam would know exactly how to touch me.