Unraveled by Him Read Online Free

nothing.”
    So that’s exactly what I do.
    “Still with me, Miss Stone?” Robert Hartwell says after a few moments.
    “Very much so, Mr. Hartwell. But you haven’t told me whether or not you are prepared to trash Unraveled and never reveal to anyone that I wrote it,” I say, deciding not to let myself dream about ghosting his autobiography before dealing with the issue at hand.
    “First things first, Miss Stone,” Robert Hartwell says, echoing my thoughts in an uncanny way. “Are you acquainted with any Spanish proverbs?”
    My initial instinct is to tell him where he can stuff his Spanish proverbs, but that wouldn’t get me my manuscript back, or the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of ghosting his autobiography, either.
    “No, Mr. Hartwell, but I’d love it if you would tell me one,” I say, gritting my teeth.
    “Delighted, Miss Stone,” he says, in a voice laced with sarcasm, then goes on: “Here it is: ‘Take what you want in life, and pay.’ An ancient Spanish proverb which, in your current situation, I’m sure you’ll agree carries a great deal of significance.”
    Take what you want in life and pay? What in heaven’s name does Robert Hartwell mean by telling me that?
    As if he can read my mind, he says, “Let me make this extremely clear to you, Miss Stone. If you expect me to return your manuscript to you, keep the secret that you authored it, and consider you for the extremely lucrative, highly prestigious role of my ghostwriter, you will have to pay my price.”
    Questions cartwheel through my mind at a breathtaking pace: His price? Robert Hartwell is a billionaire many times over, so his price definitely can’t be money, can it? So what is it? Sex? No way. Robert Hartwell is hardly going to want to have sex with a ghostwriter from Hoboken with a bust that’s too big for her diminutive frame and a face that some say is quite pretty in a 1950-ish movie-star way, but who certainly isn’t about to rival the iconic Lady Georgiana Hartwell in any shape or form. So what exactly does he want from me?
    “Miss Stone, I agree to return your erotic manuscript to you, and to keep your authorship of it a secret. Moreover, I will also give serious consideration to the possibility of you ghosting my autobiography. On one condition, and one condition only: you will meet with me tomorrow afternoon at four thirty, here at Hartwell Castle,” he says.
    “Of course, Mr. Hartwell, I’d be delighted,” I say as coolly as possible, given that my heart is hammering so wildly.
    “Not so fast, Miss Stone, I’m not done yet,” he snaps, sounding exactly like my high school principal reprimanding me for skipping class, and I cringe a little.
    “Now, as to the parameters of our meeting . . .” he goes on, then pauses for so long that if he were in front of me right now, I’d fly at him and force him to say something, anything.
    Just don’t make me wait like this, or I’ll explode!
    “Being made to wait drives me crazy,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
    “I’ll definitely take note of that, Miss Stone,” he says. “And now my price . . .”
    I hold my breath.
    “I shall fulfill your requests, Miss Stone. But only on the condition that you read the first chapter of Unraveled to me out loud, face-to-face, here at Hartwell Castle, tomorrow afternoon,” he says in a tone that brooks no contradiction.
    The first chapter of Unraveled , as Robert Hartwell well knows, obviously having browsed through it, is sexually explicit in the extreme.
    Writing that chapter made me blush. And reading it to myself afterward, I was flooded by a combination of shame and sexual excitement so strong that I broke out in a telltale scarlet flush all over my body.
    Stand in front of Robert Hartwell and read him the most scorching material I’ve ever written?
    “In your dreams, Mr. Hartwell,” I say.
    “Very well, Miss Stone. In that case there is nothing else for us to discuss,” he says, and the line goes