Isabelle, new to Enclave and ménage relationships, experiments with Warrick and Colton. One taste, and she’s sold. Persuading two confirmed bachelors to settle down is the more difficult proposition.
Warrick Harper isn’t opposed to marriage, but his super-rich family will force any potential bride to sign a prenuptial agreement. There are no happy marriages in his family. Without the pre-nup, Warrick will lose the bulk of his wealth. He’s never been tempted to marry, but Isabelle charms her way inside their hearts.
Colton Landry has gone along with Warrick’s no-permanent-relationship plan for simplicity sake. Plus, no woman ever enticed him until Isabelle. After the three come together in ménage bliss, he’s hooked. How can they let her go or ever live without her?
As the three negotiate unfamiliar relationship territory, a stalker pursues Isabelle with relentless intent. When another unexpected visitor arrives threatening the peaceful life she’s worked hard to build, Isabelle refuses to surrender without a fight.
Prologue
Ten years ago – Indiana
“What did you say to me?” Isabelle Anderson looked into her sister’s angry gaze with stunned disbelief. How did Ari have the right to be mad?
Her sister’s hardened stare added veracity to her words. “I said, how could you be so foolish, Izzy?”
“Don’t call me Izzy.” She hated that nickname, and Ari well knew it. She purposely rubbed salt into a big open wound.
Her sister displayed an overused and exaggerated eye roll, infuriating Isabelle further. “Oh I’m so sorry, your highness. I meant to say how could you be so foolish, Isabelle? I can’t change my plans. You know better.”
“I’m tired of knowing better. Why can’t you give in for a change, Ari? Or maybe try it one single time! I’m fucking sick and tired of always being the one who has to give in.” Isabelle had never used the F word out loud before, but it felt really good.
Ari’s eyes widened for a second, but quickly shuttered once more. Her sister was better than anyone at hiding her true feelings on any given matter. She should become a spy.
“Because…” Ari stopped talking, pushed out an exasperated-sounding sigh, and frowned. Her expression said she wasn’t about to change her mind on this oft argued-over issue. “Well, it’s…it’s because…well, just because. That’s why.”
“No. Not this time.”
“I can see that you’re angry, Izzy, but you need to get over this. It’s nothing.”
“Oh? Really? Nothing?” Each single-word question came out at a higher pitch than the one before. Isabelle felt the stirrings of a shrill retort about to unleash. If it did, she wouldn’t be in control of it.
Ari’s eyes closed and another long breath escaped her lips as if she—once again—didn’t plan to, or even need to, explain her actions. Everyone was supposed nod their heads and rush to do her will as if she were a superhero out to save the day.
Not to mention that after any given event—keeping Isabelle from whatever she wanted to do—Ari never bothered to explain her actions, not ever. But Isabelle was supposed to drop everything in her sad little life at every turn because she didn’t display the same iron will her sister always demonstrated.
Isabelle suppressed the screaming primal rage desperate to escape, saying in a surprisingly calm tone, “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ari. But this time, I refuse. I’m putting my foot down. Either you change your plans and agree to stay with Gran or don’t bother coming back at all.” She paused again adding a dramatic, “Ever!”
“I can’t change my plans, Izzy! It’s not going to happen.” Her sister swallowed hard, looking a bit vulnerable for the first time in forever. Isabelle, however, wasn’t going to back down.
She couldn’t do it. Not again. Not one more time. In an equally calm voice, her sister said, “I’m sorry, but my life is complicated.”
“Complicated? Why is that? Why is your freestyle party life so complicated? Do not even say it’s because you have that important concert to go to.” Isabelle put air quotes around the word “important” to mean quite the opposite.
Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “It is important. Besides—”
Isabelle didn’t want to hear it. “Yes. I know. You’ve already purchased very expensive tickets and backstage passes to a band I’ve never even heard of before today, knowing full well that it was your turn to visit Gran this weekend, knowing full well you’d just crook your little finger like you always do to get me to cover for you again. Well, take note, Ari. I’m not doing it!”