Page 1 of If Love Had A Price (If Love 3)

Chapter One

“I’ll pay you $10,000 to fuck my stepmother.”

Kris’s mouth curled into a smirk when the green-eyed Adonis stopped walking and turned, his handsome face a curious mask of boredom and disbelief.

He’d ignored her for the better part of the summer, which she didn’t appreciate.

No one ignored Kris Carrera.

But he was perfect for her plan, so she was willing to play nice. And by nice, she meant not ripping his balls off and tossing them to the cougars that stalked Rodeo Drive in a pack of bad Botox and tacky Versace.

Oh, and her $10,000 offer was pretty sweet, too. But for the daughter of one of the richest men in America, ten grand was a drop in the bucket.

“You’re mistaking me for someone else.” Adonis’s whiskey drawl slipped over her skin, as smooth and dark as onyx. Polished at first glance, but rough beneath the surface. “I’m not a prostitute.”

Kris’s smirk sharpened. She closed the distance between them until she could count every sun-kissed strand of his wavy brown hair and see the veiled fury glittering in his green eyes.

The fury was interesting. She supposed most people wouldn’t enjoy being pegged as a prostitute, but the tense set of his jaw told her there was a deeper reason behind his anger.

If Kris cared, she’d ruminate on the reason.

She didn’t.

All Kris cared about was throwing her gold-digging, fake-titted stepmother-to-be onto the streets, and Adonis here was going to help make that happen.

He was exactly Gloria’s—aka the Stepmonster’s—type: tan, ripped, and so gorgeous he looked Photoshopped. Bonus points for the ability to string two words together in a coherent sentence without using the term “dude.”

He was every straight female’s type, really, and he was the perfect candidate for the job. All she had to do was convince him.

“I should’ve been more clear,” Kris purred. “I’ll pay you $10,000 topretendto fuck my stepmother. Whether you actually stick your dick inside her is none of my concern.”

Adonis barked out a laugh—a low, husky sound that caused her stomach to flip in the strangest way.

It better not be that sandwich I ate earlier, she thought.

If Kris got food poisoning, she’d sue the cafe they’d just left to kingdom come, which would be a damn shame, because she liked the place. Located between her family’s Beverly Hills mansion and her summer job as an assistant to top Hollywood publicist Bobbi Rayden, Alchemy Cafe was an airy haven of perfectly crafted lattes and eye candy—including the chiseled hunk standing before her.

She didn’t know his actual name, so she’d secretly dubbed him Adonis after the beautiful Greek god. He was a waiter at Alchemy, though she’d bet her last dollar he was also an aspiring actor or rock star.

This was L.A., after all.

“Lady, you must be on drugs. I’m not going near your stepmother, if you even have one.” Adonis narrowed his eyes. “If this is for a prank show, you’re wasting my time. I don’t do reality TV—especially ones I didn’t consent to.”

Kris bristled, both at his mocking use of the word “lady” and the fact that he was wastinghertime by being so stubborn.

His immunity to her charms also irritated her. Kris rarely engaged in flirting or romantic affairs, but she expected a certain level of drool when she turned on the heat. Big brown eyes, full lips, and a petite, curvy figure—including a natural set of 36Cs—usually caught a guy’s attention.

But no, Adonis here looked about as interested as a cardboard eunuch.

Wisps of irritation curled through her.

“This is not for a prank show.” As if Kris would touch something as tacky as reality TV. “My time is precious, and I won’t spend it arguing with you, so here’s the deal in a nutshell: my father is getting married to his gold-digging fiancée this fall and refuses to listen to reason, so I’m going toforcehim to see reason. AKA, toss her out with nothing but the cheap clothes she wore when she seduced him at that bar she was working at.”

“And you’re going to do that by hiring someone to fuck—sorry,pretendto fuck—” The sarcasm was evident. “Your future stepmother.”

“And take photos of her doing it.” Kris shrugged. “She’d cheat on my dad in a heartbeat after she becomes Mrs. Carrera. I’m saving him from future heartbreak.”

Kris cared about her dad, even if he was so busy she only saw him a few weeks a year. Sheknewhe could do better than that redheaded pile of trash, Gloria.