Beautiful White Lies Duet Read online
Contents
About the Author
Also By K.L. Clare
LIES THAT BIND US
Praise for Lies That Bind Us
About Lies That Bind Us
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Acknowledgments
HER LOVELY LIES
About Her Lovely Lies
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
She Began to Fly
Chapter 3
Angry Broken Hearts
Chapter 4
Wonderful Liar
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Little Girls and Boys
Chapter 7
Only Words Bleed
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Kiss From a Rose
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Wicked Games
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
A Criminal Mind
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Monster Under My Bed
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Beautiful White Lies
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Walking Among Ghosts
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
The Last Secret
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Beauty and Her Beast
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
K.L. Clare is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and dark romance. Her first novel, Lies That Bind Us, is the winner of four independent book awards. She lives in the Midwest with her two kids, an adventurous cat, and a sock-thieving spaniel.
Connect with her on social media and at
www.klclare.com.
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www.klclare.com/newsletter
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Also By K.L. Clare
BEAUTIFUL WHITE LIES
Duet
Lies That Bind Us
Her Lovely Lies
Novelette
Vows That Bind Us
COMING SOON
Good Cop, Bad Boy:
A Cocky Bastard Crossover
Lies That We Keep:
A Beautiful White Lies Standalone
Reignited:
A Driven Novel
Copyright © 2019, 2020 by K.L. Clare, Kelli Clare LLC
All rights reserved.
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 the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
www.klclare.com
Published by White Rose Press
Editors, Lies That Bind Us: Elizabeth Kracht, Jaime Brockway
Editors, Her Lovely Lies: Katrina Diaz Arnold, Jaime Brockway
Cover design: © Hang Le, By Hang Le
ISBN: 978-1-7329314-5-9
LIES THAT BIND US
Book One
Beautiful White Lies Duet
K.L. Clare
Praise for Lies That Bind Us
Clare animates her tale with elegant prose ... Evading killers sets the groundwork for a sublimely written story of love and passion.
—Kirkus Reviews
A sensual, riveting romantic thriller.
—J. Kenner, New York Times Bestselling Author
Dark, intriguing, and scorchingly sexy. The premise is electrifying, the romance is sizzling, and the storytelling is top-notch.
—Julie Ann Walker, New York Times Bestselling Author
Captivating and provocative. Lies That Bind Us is a fast-paced story that’ll wrap you up and won’t let go until the last satisfying paragraph.
—Kerry Lonsdale, Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author
A propulsive, thrilling read filled with action, romance, and intrigue. Passion and lies make this book irresistible. Loved it!
—Kaira Rouda, USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Lies That Bind Us is a gripping romantic thriller that will capture readers from the onset. Clare deftly blends danger and romance in an exciting way that will keep readers turning the pages.
—RT Book Reviews
K.L. Clare hooks you on the first page with a story of captivating characters and follows up with a gripping plot.
—Independent Book Publishing Professionals Group
The wholly original contemporary romance plot combines the best part of modern fiction with something close to the best elements of the fantasy genre.
—The BookLife Prize
About Lies That Bind Us
Lies That Bind Us is a gripping romance that lures historical events into a dark, contemporary love story and is the winner of four independent book awards.
I feel him everywhere.
I see him on the street, encounter him at the pier. He’s my protector, but when my family is murdered, he’s there, and I must decide if this man is someone I can trust or a killer—or both.
Falling for Will Hastings is easy. Because I have nothing more to lose.
But at seven years old, my niece has everything to lose. On the run from those threatening our lives, we take her to his home for refuge, crossing an ocean and settling in England. Will’s stately country house is our sanctuary, but it’s his sensual and commanding presence that becomes my home and strengthens me.
Assassins bide their time, watching us, waiting for the moment to take our lives.
Even so, we vow to defy the course of fatal events before us. Will and I promise to live. But the obsession—
this intense love story of ours—is the one thing we might not survive.
For my grandmothers in heaven, my mom, my dream-chasing daughter, and the many other strong women who’ve touched my life in ways big and small.
1
The first time I saw Will’s handsome face was in late July after the annual Blessing of the Fleet. His bold gaze burned into mine from the opposite side of Water Street. The highland band, piping loud and marching through the center, drew the post-ceremony procession to a close, granting me an unobstructed view.
A slow smile touched his lips, and despite the stifling summer heat, it drove a sensual shiver through me.
He was magnificent, the kind of man you would never find living in small-town New England. I’d never seen a man so tall, with shoulders so broad it made me wonder if he had to have his shirts custom-tailored. His cut biceps emerged from the sleeves of a beautifully faded indigo T-shirt that was tucked into close-fitting jeans. Most women would pay a fortune for the highlights that seemed to flow naturally through the waves of his dark blond hair. His jawline was strong and commanding, reminding me of paintings I had studied in college of ancient Roman gladiators.
The town parade had ended, but Jess and I hadn’t moved from the curb. My best friend released her wavy red hair from its bun and lifted her face to the late-morning sun, and I stared at him.
Jess opened her eyes to sip from her mimosa and elbowed me. “Who’s he . . . and why are you staring at each other? Wait, is he—”
I recoiled from the jab and hit her with an irritable glance. “The guy who followed me home the other night. Yes, I think so. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s staying in one of the rentals nearby.”
When I refocused across the street, he was gone.
“And maybe you should say something to someone, report it to the police.”
“You know, paranoia is my sister’s thing, not mine. I’m not sure I feel threatened. Besides, aren’t you always saying I should be more open to meeting new people?”
“Oh, wow. I haven’t seen you outwardly curious in a while. You totally need to get out of your artsy little head more often. Just be careful. If he follows you again without saying hello, promise me you’ll do something about it.”
“I will. I promise.”
I struggled with reconciling his presence in town and the sense that he watched me. After all, it was summertime, and Stonington was a historically rich summer-destination town.
Stonington was a cultural treasure, the only coastal town in Connecticut to face the open Atlantic waters. Tourists often milled around town by day and wandered the streets in the quiet darkness of night. It was also a colonial fishing town, so many came to find work with the commercial fleet. But while the town posed picture-perfect for its visitors, residents fought addiction and crime under the cover of that same darkness.
“I’m going to head to the art studio. The kids chose today to make up the class we missed last week. Catch up with you later?” I asked.
Jess closed her eyes and nodded as she lifted her lovely freckled face back to the sun.
* * *
After the last of my noisy day campers had gone, I locked the studio door and made my way to the fishing pier to sketch. It was either that or another of Jess’s lectures. She’d go on about how I wallowed in self-imposed loneliness and how it left her alone to test the waters in the pool of datable men. The pool was small—it was blue-plastic-toddler-swimming-pool small—and I didn’t need to dip in a toe to know there was nothing in it for me.
The pier was a respite from Gran and Isobel as well. My grandmother and sister’s intrusiveness aggravated me, though I knew they meant well. They were all I’d ever had.
Gran still mourned her only child, my father, even after all the years he’d been gone, and we both dreamed of him. She’d tell me of her pleasant dreams, but in the same breath, and only God knows why, she’d curse at my father for the wealth he’d left us. Isobel seemed to suffer our mother’s death more, and as a general rule, she would never talk about either one.
Trysts with my art kept me sane, made me feel connected to my life.
I looked out over the harbor and spotted Neptune trudging her way in. The sailboats beyond paled in her presence. I don’t know what it was about the old girl, but I loved that fishing boat. Her emerald-green hull had become chalky over time, and the once-black hoists and white booms were covered in rust, but she was still glorious against the backdrop of the sea. I sat and lost myself in the sketch.
No more than ten minutes had passed when the pier thrummed with the pounding steps of the lumping crew as they made their way to the dock. With a soft curse, I pulled the cover over my drawing and watched the deckhands secure Neptune’s lines.
“Hello.”
My shoulders jerked. I arched my neck back and blinked at the man looming above.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. I don’t know which was more surprising—his deep, thunderous tone or the British accent. A rich, masculine scent rolled down his arm when he offered his hand.
I stood without taking it and dusted off my backside. Even when standing, I had to lift my chin to meet his eyes. I was five and a half feet tall, and he towered a foot above me. I stared at him, exploring his eyes. They were light blue, but there was nothing cool about his gaze as it burned into mine.
“Hi. It’s . . . you—from the street. You were staring.”
He offered no apology. Instead, he extended his arm to offer his hand again, palm facing up this time. “Will Hastings.” A seductive smile played with the corners of his mouth, one side curving higher than the other. His commanding presence saturated the space around me.
Power. He was power.
I bit my lip and presented my hand, distantly aware that I’d edged closer. “Ellie James.”
With a firm grasp, he held my fingers as he studied me. “Christ, you’re lovely.”
The gravel texture layered in the sound of his low voice captivated me, as did his choice of words. My pulse sped. No words came to me. I dropped my eyes, but they were drawn back to his in an instant.
Will Hastings pressed his lips to my knuckles before releasing me. “I’ll see you again, Ellie James,” he asserted. After taking a few steps back, he turned and strode away, joining the rest of the crew to unload Neptune’s catch.
“But . . . wait,” I called through the heat of my blush.
He tossed back one confident word. “Soon.”
It was impossible not to glance once more in his direction before heading up the pier. He watched me over his shoulder with powerful arms raised high, prepared to lift the next teeming crate from its moving hook.
I reminded myself to breathe and exhaled.
When I couldn’t sleep later that night after dinner with Jess, I pulled out my sketch pad and finished the drawing from memory, coercing life into the old fishing boat on paper. I flipped the page and continued, allowing my mind to create whatever it wanted to see in the moment. It wasn’t long before Will’s eyes stared back at me. I held up the sketch and angled it left and right, considering the penciled likeness. It jumped out at me then—his gaze revealed something more than I’d realized at the pier. Something dark.
That darkness drew me to him, even on paper. But there was something more, an alluring energy, and it drove images into my head of tangled sheets and sweating, entwined bodies.
I shook my head to clear it, deciding to go to the family cottage soon. No one else used the place anymore. It was quaint and private—forgotten—and there were no fishermen, no tourists, no onlookers. I missed the beach there and needed to step into the sea. An empty feeling, a profound void caused by the lack of a genuine soul-deep connection, lingered in my spirit. The Atlantic soothed me, filling that void with comforting messages from a faraway land I imagined calling out to me.
Beautiful White Lies Duet