Body Movers Books 1-3. Stephanie Bond

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      Contents

      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

      1

      “Does this make my ass look big?”

      Carlotta Wren stood in the dressing room of Neiman Marcus in the Lenox Mall in Atlanta, Georgia, her arms full of designer bathing suits that Angela Ashford, one of her least favorite customers, wanted to try on. They weren’t even halfway through the selections and already Carlotta wanted to murder the woman.

      She dutifully glanced at Angela’s surgically sculpted glutes falling out of a tiny patch of metallic-blue fabric. “No, your, um, ass looks…great.”

      Angela tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and pouted at her rear reflection in the three-way mirror. “You think?”

      Carlotta’s mouth watered to say, “Way better than it looked in high school,” but bit her tongue. It was part of the game, after all—Angela played the role of poor little rich girl with a confidence problem, and Carlotta played the stroking, sympathetic friend. Both of them deserved an Oscar.

      Angela turned around and carefully rearranged her newly acquired breasts in the bikini top that barely covered her nipples. Then she slipped her narrow feet into the silver high-heeled sandals sitting nearby and performed a three-quarter turn to peruse her long, slender figure from all angles. Carlotta tried not to compare her own ample curves to the woman’s lean lines. Or her own gap-toothed grin to Angela’s perfect, Clorox smile.

      She was not jealous of Angela Ashford.

      “This suit is a definite maybe,” Angela announced.

      Carlotta managed not to roll her eyes—the sixth “definite maybe” so far. “I have to warn you that the trim on that suit won’t hold up to chlorine.”

      Angela made a face. “Good grief, I don’t actually swim in our new pool—I don’t even know how to swim. I just want to look amazing.”

      Carlotta bit down on the inside of her cheek. “Do you want to choose from the ones you’ve set aside so far, or do you want to try on the rest of these?”

      Angela looked irritated. “I’ll try on the rest.” Then she smiled meanly. “And I’ll be needing several new spring outfits. With shoes, of course. Peter told me to treat myself to anything I wanted since he just got a huge bonus and our wedding anniversary is coming up. He’s so generous.”

      Carlotta busied herself removing the next bathing suit from its hanger, trying not to react. Peter, as in Carlotta’s former fiancé. Just like every time Angela came in for a shopping binge, Carlotta reminded herself that her relationship with Peter Ashford had ended over a decade ago. To be precise, one week after her father had skipped bail on his indictment for investment fraud and he and her mother had gone on the run. The local media had had a field day.

      RANDOLPH WREN FLIES THE COOP

      RANDOLPH WREN, FUGITIVE JAILBIRD

      RANDOLPH WREN AND WIFE VALERIE ABANDON CHILDREN

      Just a few weeks shy of eighteen, Carlotta hadn’t been a child, but she’d led a rather charmed and sheltered life up to that point. Suddenly faced with raising her nine-year-old brother, Wesley, and with no extended family to rely upon, she had clung to her boyfriend, Peter. СКАЧАТЬ