Tangled Games (Dating Games) Read online

  Tangled Games

  Dating Games #5

  T.K. Leigh

  TANGLED GAMES

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its many distributors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not sponsored, associated, or endorsed by the trademark owner.

  Published by Carpe Per Diem, Inc / Tracy Kellam, 25852 McBean Parkway # 806, Santa Clarita, CA 91355

  Edited by Kim Young, Kim’s Editing Services

  Cover Design: Cat Head Biscuit, Inc., Santa Clarita, CA

  Cover assets:

  © dor-iss

  Used under license from iStock.

  © d. tranikov

  Used under license from Deposit Photos.

  Copyright © 2021 Tracy Kellam

  All rights reserved.

  Books by T.K. Leigh

  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

  The Dating Games Series

  Dating Games

  Wicked Games

  Mind Games

  Dangerous Games

  Royal Games

  Tangled Games

  The Redemption Series

  Commitment (Redemption Duet #1)

  Redemption (Redemption Duet #2)

  Possession (Possession Duet #1)

  Atonement (Possession Duet #2)

  ROMANTIC COMEDY

  The Book Boyfriend Chronicles

  The Other Side of Someday

  Writing Mr. Right

  ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  The Vault

  Inferno: Part 1

  Inferno: Part 2

  Inferno: Part 3

  Inferno: Part 4

  The Beautiful Mess Series

  A Beautiful Mess

  A Tragic Wreck

  Gorgeous Chaos

  The Deception Duet

  (A Beautiful Mess Series Spinoff Duet)

  Chasing the Dragon

  Slaying The Dragon

  Beautiful Mess Series Standalones

  Vanished

  Heart of Marley

  Heart of Light

  For more information on any of these titles and upcoming releases, please visit T.K.’s website:

  www.tkleighauthor.com

  Contents

  A Note from the Author

  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

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Free Book!

  Possession

  Connect with Me

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for picking up a copy of Tangled Games. Your support means the world to me!

  I just wanted to write a quick note about this book. I never planned to write this story. Well, I kind of did. Last year, when I started to work on the previous book in this series, Royal Games, I had a story in my mind of two people who would meet on a Route 66 and fall in love, but one of them just so happened to be a prince. My plan was for the first half of the book to be their journey on Route 66 and the second half to follow them as they returned to the real world. More appropriately, Anderson’s real world.

  Well, things didn’t exactly go as planned. I didn’t want to rush Nora and Anderson’s journey on Route 66, since there was a lot of growth both characters needed to undergo to find their happily ever after.

  In Royal Games, I wrapped up that particular chapter of their lives, but I knew their story wasn’t really over yet. And my beta readers called me out on that fact, so a few weeks before publishing Royal Games, I made the decision to add one more book to the Dating Games series - the book you’re about to read.

  With all that being said, this book can absolutely be read as a standalone. You don’t have to have read Royal Games prior to this. However, if you want the full Anderson and Nora experience, I do recommend you start there. But if you’re not in the mood for an angsty road trip romance and want to get right into all the royal goodness in this book, go for it!

  Regardless of whether this is your first introduction to Nora and Anderson or you’ve already met them, I hope you enjoy the journey you’re about to go on.

  Thanks again for your support!

  Love and peace,

  ~ T.K.

  Chapter One

  Nora

  I don’t have many memories of my father.

  Not only did he die when I was young, but even when he was alive, he was often deployed. Despite that, some memories occasionally find their way to the surface.

  Like when he came into my room and woke me up with an offer to make pancakes in the shape of my favorite animated character.

  Or the way he’d tell me he loved me out of the blue, something I longed to hear from anyone after he died.

  Or the way I can’t look at a book without thinking of his passion for the written word, memories of the hours I spent with him at the library as clear as if it were just yesterday. Instead, over twenty-five years have passed since I watched his flag-covered casket being lowered into the ground.

  As I run my fingers along the spines of the hardcover novels while perusing the shelves of my favorite Manhattan bookstore, I feel his presence. Then again, I feel him whenever I walk into a bookstore or library. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to this place today when I have a long list of things I should be doing instead.

  Maybe I wanted to feel my dad’s presence again.

  His reassurance.

  His love.

  When my hand glides over a familiar title, I stop, a nostalgic smile curving my lips.

  Everyone remembers the book that sparked their love of reading. For some, it was Nancy Drew. For others, the Babysitters Club series. For others still, it was V.C. Andrews’ Flowers in the Attic.

  But for me, it was something else entirely.

  I fell in love with Maxim de Winter from Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. I don’t know what attracted me to the story about a young woman who married a wealthy older widower, only to discover the happily ever after she t
hought she’d have would come at a steep price. But ever since my teenage years, I often return to the tragic tale.

  How did the unnamed narrator feel when she went from being a lady’s companion to the lady of an English manor? Such a drastic change, one she never fathomed happening to her. Yet Maxim fell for her, regardless that she was an ordinary girl, at least in her eyes. In Maxim’s, she was fascinating.

  Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved this story.

  Because Maxim made her feel extraordinary, not the stupid little girl her employer made her out to be.

  For the longest time, it gave me hope I’d find something remarkable, too.

  Sliding the book off the shelf, I flip to the first page. A warmth rushes through me as I read the opening line. It’s like seeing an old friend after spending years apart.

  “‘Last night, I dreamed I went to Manderley again.’”

  I stiffen at the deep, guttural voice reciting the first sentence. It sends a shiver down my spine, the subtle British accent the perfect inflection to set the tone.

  Slowly, I turn around. A tiny breath manages to escape in response to the pair of blazing blue eyes staring back, the corner of his full lips quirked up into a mischievous smirk. I trace my gaze over his face…the scruff along his jaw, his chiseled nose, his smoldering stare. My pulse kicks up, skin tingling with a vulnerability I didn’t think possible from a look alone.

  “It’s quite refreshing to meet a woman who appreciates a physical book,” he continues smoothly when I remain mute. “Most people these days seem to prefer the convenience of an e-reader.”

  I swallow. “While I can understand that…” My tone turns sultry, “there’s no replacement for the feel of a real book.” I close Rebecca, running a lithe finger along the cover.

  Emboldened by the raw hunger covering every inch of him, I curve toward him, acting incredibly out of character for me. But isn’t this every woman’s fantasy? Or at least every bookworm’s fantasy? Running into a handsome, well-dressed man in a bookstore, one who appreciates books for the gift they are?

  “Or the scent,” I continue in a low voice, “of a real book.” I linger near his neck for a moment, inhaling deeply. “It’s incredibly…intoxicating.” I pull back, eyes locking with his.

  Silence stretches between us as he focuses on me in a way that pierces my soul, as if able to read my thoughts, learn my deepest, darkest desires.

  With that one look, everything else disappears. Gone is the background chatter, nearby sirens, whirring of the air conditioning. I’m in a vacuum, an alternate universe where nothing exists outside of me, this man, and this arresting lust rioting through me, leaving me mindless, breathless…and perhaps a bit reckless.

  When he lifts his hand, my heart hammers in my chest, the hairs on my nape standing on end. I moisten my lips as I brace to feel his skin against mine. His body against mine. His anything against mine.

  Instead, he gingerly takes the book from my hand. Disappointment ripples inside me. It lasts less than a second before he grips my hip, harsh and invigorating. A gasp tumbles from my mouth when he yanks my body against his. I barely have time to register what’s happening as his other hand burrows into my strawberry blonde waves. This is all surreal, like I’m in the presence of Maxim de Winter himself, my deepest fantasy coming to life in the aisle of a Manhattan bookstore.

  With unhurried movements, his lips descend toward mine. Each prolonged second is excruciating, ratcheting up my desire to a smoldering level, burning through me.

  “‘If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory,’” he murmurs in a husky voice, his breath caressing my mouth.

  “And now you’ve quoted yet another one of my favorite lines from Rebecca. Start quoting Lady Chatterley’s Lover and we’ll have to find somewhere more…private.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Is that a promise?”

  I eye him. There’s no way he’s read that book. Or if, by some fluke, he has, he won’t be familiar enough with it to pull a quote out of thin air.

  I think.

  With a slight nod, I murmur, “It is.”

  “Well then…” He adjusts his stance, his arousal pushing against my abdomen, his lips skimming my neck. “‘I believe in having a good heart, a chirpy penis, a lively intelligence, and the courage to say shit in front of a lady.’”

  I burst out laughing. The sound carries through the aisles, attracting several curious stares, but only for a heartbeat. It’s one of the things that drew me to Manhattan in the first place.

  Here, no one cares about anyone besides themselves.

  Here, I can disappear into the background.

  Here, I can be a nobody.

  But I don’t feel like that right now. Not with the intensity in this man’s gaze.

  “Why did I have a feeling you’d quote that particular line?” I muse.

  “I’ve been carrying that gem around in my back pocket for ages, waiting for the perfect opportunity to woo a beautiful woman perusing the Literary Classics section of a bookstore.”

  “If that was your game plan, the odds were stacked against you.”

  “Perhaps.” He shrugs slightly, his eyes dancing with amusement. “But it worked on you, didn’t it?”

  “Jury’s still out.”

  His expression darkens once more. “I suppose I need to figure out another way to woo you then.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “This.”

  He crashes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising, yet addictive.

  I stiffen, taken aback by his forwardness, especially in such a public place. But that’s short-lived, a burning lust for more making me blind to everything else.

  This is one of the most spontaneous things I’ve done in quite some time. I’ve never been one for overt displays of affection. At least not in places that are so…public. A busy Manhattan bookstore is the definition of public. But that doesn’t bother me right now.

  And it obviously doesn’t bother him, either.

  Instead of pulling away at the sound of nearby whispers and snickers, he deepens the kiss, his hand on my waist steering me down the aisle until my back comes into contact with the wall.

  He moves his hips, his erection grinding against me. A low groan rumbles from his throat as I dig my hands into his thick hair that’s a cacophony of shades, from brown to copper and even a few hints of blond at the ends.

  When he tears away, our ragged breathing pervades the space between us. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “And where shall we go?” I zero in on his plump lips that shine with the remnants of my gloss.

  “Somewhere more private.”

  I arch a brow. “Private?”

  With a slow nod, he lowers his mouth toward my neck. His breath on my skin is intoxicating, causing a pleasurable ache to build deep within me. One I doubt will be satisfied until I have him.

  All of him.

  “Yes, gorgeous.” His lips skim against the sensitive flesh where my neck meets my shoulder. “Somewhere I can take my time indulging in every single inch of you.” He nibbles my earlobe, eliciting a whimper from me, one as innate and uncontrollable as breathing. “Where I can make you scream without having to worry who will overhear.”

  Needing to maintain some semblance of control, which escapes me with every word he speaks, I place a hand on his chest and gently push him away. “And here I thought you didn’t mind making a scene in public. Why else would you have shoved your tongue down my throat, then groped me for everyone to see?”

  He smirks. “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

  “That’s because there were none to be had.”

  “Even so, I know where to draw the line.” His tone had dropped to that toe-curling decibel once more.

  He leans closer but doesn’t touch me, maintaining his distance, regardless of how slight.

  “And I most certainly draw the line at allowing anyone else to witness your blissful expression when I make you com
e. Over. And over. And over. Until you beg me to stop. But even then, I won’t stop making you feel good.”

  Playing the part of the vixen to his fox, I trail my fingers down the buttons of his shirt and grab his tie, pulling his mouth to within a whisper of mine.

  “Then let’s go somewhere so you can make me scream.”

  His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring. He clutches my cheeks in his calloused hands, slamming his lips against mine in a punishing kiss that leaves me breathless once more.

  Breaking away sooner than I’d like, he grasps my hand, not allowing me to catch my breath as he pulls me through the aisles. I do my best to keep up with his determined strides, but it takes two of my steps to meet one of his, my five-four frame no match for his estimated six-four stature. Still, the conviction and resolve in his movements send a thrill through me.

  “I almost forgot.” He spins around, nearly giving me whiplash as he changes direction.

  “What is it?” I ask, my skin warming from the stares and snickers coming from those who witnessed our…moment.

  “Why this, of course.”

  He stops at the proverbial scene of the crime and picks up my abandoned copy of Rebecca.

  “What about it?”

  “You should have it. I’m buying it for you.” He pauses, brows furrowed. “You don’t already own it, do you?”