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Crossing The Line (E-Book)

Crossing The Line (E-Book)

Contemporary Romantic Comedy Billionaire Romance

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In a delightful twist on forbidden love, Paisley and Hercules find themselves teetering on the edge of the unimaginable - a romance their feuding families would never approve of.

With a blend of light-hearted humor and heart-tugging emotion, their story unfolds like a modern-day Romeo and Juliet, minus the tragedy and heavy on the happily ever after, reminding us that the best love stories start with a little rule-breaking.


Nerdy Paisley has been attracted to gorgeous billionaire Hercules Lord since high school, but she's accepted that they'll never be more than friends — until one chance encounter changes everything.

He calls me PG, and my heart skips a beat.

Nobody calls me that but Hercules Lord, a man I've had a crush on since high school.

He and I could never be together, though. A romance between us is strictly forbidden. The Lords are old money, and my family, the Groves, is new money—and the Groves and the Lords don't mix. The bitter rivalry between our families runs deep. Deep enough to create an invisible line in the sand that neither of us ever dared to cross.

But that's never stopped us from staring at each other from across a crowded room. 

And we've always been cordial. 

Oh... There was that one night seven years ago. I bet Hercules doesn't know that he's my first.

Yet here we are again, gazing into each other's eyes.

Tonight feels different.

We've grown up.

Our desire for each other wants to defy our restraint.

But truly, really... What will happen if we cross the line?

This must-read standalone billionaire romance has plenty of angst and slow-burn heat to keep you turning the pages; it also ends happily ever after.


The Lord Brothers of Manhattan

1 - Crossing The Line

2 - A Fake Love Deal

3 - Boss On Notice




Dear Hercules Lord,

All roads lead back to you.

Forever yours,


"It's you." The words barely slip past my lips in a delicate whisper. I'm caught, trapped by his piercing gaze, and I can hardly believe I'm standing before Hercules Lord. His eyes, as intense and charming as ever, still possess the ability to see right into my soul. They're incredibly seductive, just as I remember.

How many years have slipped away since our last encounter? Seven, eight, or something in between? Memories rush back to me, a tidal wave of recollections from the last time we found ourselves in a situation like this. It was Boston. We had unexpectedly crossed paths at a New Year's Eve party, ultimately ending up at his place.

And here we are, once again, fate intertwining our paths.

"PG," Hercules utters, each syllable tasting of familiarity.

My face flushes warm, and my voice barely manages a quiet, "Hi." Quickly, I clear my throat, determined to keep my composure the next time I speak.

"What a..." His voice trails off, the words hanging in the air like lingering perfume. "Pleasant surprise."

"So, the two of you know each other?" my newfound friend, Lake Clark, inquires. It's easy to forget that Hercules and I aren't alone now.

It's a struggle to pull my attention away from his face, a masterpiece of rugged handsomeness. His dimpled chin and sharp jawline are adorned with neatly trimmed, silken stubble. His eyes, as captivating as a star-studded sky, lure me in, and his lips are as inviting as forbidden fruit. From our high school days through college and until now, he's aged like the finest wine. Hercules Lord is, without a doubt, a stunningly attractive man.

I finally shift my focus to Lake, who looks absolutely radiant tonight. She's clad in a silky white halter dress, the material elegantly showcasing her smooth shoulders, which appear as tender as fresh cotton under the warm glow of the stylish venue's lights. Her dark, wavy hair, cut to the chin, beautifully frames her graceful swan-like neck.

I'd only just arrived at Lake and "Kirkie's" engagement party when I noticed her. She was absorbed in conversation with a man whose imposing figure was reminiscent of an ancient marble statue. From afar, I admired his form, choosing to wait until their discussion ended before I approached. Yet, an unexplainable pull drew me towards them. An irresistible compulsion had me bridging the distance between us sooner than I'd planned. That's when I saw his face.

A sudden realization strikes me, and I clutch my rapidly beating heart. "Wait. Is Hercules 'Kirkie'?" I ask Lake.

Hercules furrows his brows in confusion. "What's a 'Kirkie'?"

He's so incredibly handsome when he's puzzled.

"No, no, no," Lake responds, her head shaking with each negation. She gently places her long fingers on Hercules's well-toned bicep. "Mason is 'Kirkie'."

Hercules's look of confusion deepens. "Mason is 'Kirkie'?"

Lake places a hand next to her mouth, whispering as though sharing a secret. "It's what I call him when he's not around."

"Ah..." Hercules throws his head back in laughter.

As Lake explains how Hercules is Mason's—'Kirkie's'—best man, best friend, and boss, I struggle to maintain focus. One thing is for sure: I've dodged a bullet. If Lake had introduced the man I've always had a monumental crush on as her fiancé, I wouldn't have known how to react, or what to feel. I probably would've fainted.

"So, how exactly do you know each other?" Lake's inquisitive finger oscillates between Hercules and me, much like a windshield wiper in motion.

"High school," we answer simultaneously.

I offer him a broad smile, receiving an equally warm one in return. My cheeks are flushed, likely painting a picture of dusty rose blush across my face. It's slightly embarrassing. I want to seem like someone who doesn't revert to high school infatuations at the sight of the man she's never entirely managed to forget. I'm nearly thirty, for goodness' sake. I should be better at maintaining my composure around him.

Wearing my most confident smile, I say, "Well, we met in high school, but we last encountered each other during my final year in college."

Hercules flashes a mischievous wink. "Yes. That's our story."

Lake's smile grows slowly, her eyes studying us like we're two rare specimens she must glean every possible detail about. "So, you have a story?"

"What?" I manage to choke out. My mind whirls at the mere thought of our past - all the tales of Hercules and me, Paisley.

"So, you two have a story. Does that mean you were together at some point?" she asks.

Hercules crosses his muscular arms high on his broad chest. "Clarify 'together'?"

With a pointed look, Lake retorts, "You know perfectly well what I mean by 'together,' Hercules. Stop evading."

Hercules responds with his signature charming, lopsided grin - a sight I remember all too well. "We're old friends, Lake."

Lake turns her expectant gaze toward me as if seeking confirmation. I find myself at a loss for words, too taken aback to reply to her unspoken question.

"Yes, we are old friends," I confirm, keeping the explanation of our complicated history straightforward.

Hercules and I lock eyes, sharing knowing smiles that reveal a shared past.

Lake opens her mouth to say something more, but Hercules thankfully redirects the conversation. Turning to her, he says, "Hold on. Does Mason know you call him 'Kirkie' behind his back?"

"Oh no, you didn't just call me that in public, did you, babe?" A tall, dark, and undeniably handsome man enters our trio, positioning himself between Hercules and Lake. Once situated, he loops an arm around Lake's waist.

Lake giggles as she shares a kiss with her fiancé before asking where he's been. The pair of them make a captivating couple. He carries a certain allure, and ever since I've known her, Lake has always come across as perhaps the most content woman in the world. She's perpetually smiling, forever optimistic, and ready to see the silver lining in even the most challenging situations.

"Your cousin's a pill,” he declares.

Lake grunts in agreement, signaling her concurrence.

But I'm already lost again, locked in Hercules's gaze as Lake introduces me to her fiancé. I take a deep breath, my chest rising prominently, and then I let it out slowly, trying to keep my composure under Hercules's captivating presence.

"Are you the Paisley Grove?" Mason asks.

I'm tempted to look over and gauge the emotion behind Mason's startled and slightly displeased tone, but my gaze is captivated by the breathtaking woman who has looped her arm through Hercules'. She dons a shimmering silver body-con dress with a daring neckline, and its short hemline reveals more than it conceals.

When our eyes finally lock, hers gleam with mischief, though her lips betray no emotion. In that instant, a realization crashes over me like a tidal wave. My heart sinks—this woman is staking a claim on the man I've never stopped dreaming of.

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