Elena Armas

From the author of the Goodreads Choice Award winner The Spanish Love Deception, the eagerly anticipated follow-up featuring Rosie Graham and Lucas Martín, who are forced to share a New York apartment.

Rosie Graham has a problem. A few, actually. She just quit her well paid job to focus on her secret career as a romance writer. She hasn’t told her family and now has terrible writer’s block. Then, the ceiling of her New York apartment literally crumbles on her. Luckily she has her best friend Lina’s spare key while she’s out of town. But Rosie doesn’t know that Lina has already lent her apartment to her cousin Lucas, who Rosie has been stalking—for lack of a better word—on Instagram for the last few months. Lucas seems intent on coming to her rescue like a Spanish knight in shining armor. Only this one strolls around the place in a towel, has a distracting grin, and an irresistible accent. Oh, and he cooks.

Lucas offers to let Rosie stay with him, at least until she can find some affordable temporary housing. And then he proposes an outrageous experiment to bring back her literary muse and meet her deadline: He’ll take her on a series of experimental dates meant to jump-start her romantic inspiration. Rosie has nothing to lose. Her silly, online crush is totally under control—but Lucas’s time in New York has an expiration date, and six weeks may not be enough, for either her or her deadline.

Spanish Love Deception #2

The American Roommate Experiment

🫣🫣❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹😕😕

Keira 💫

“Rosie,” I said, making sure I was coming as close as possible to her without touching her. Because if I did, I knew it’d be game over for me. “If we weren’t friends,” I told her, voice like gravel. “Good friends like we are, best friends”—I watched her eyelids flutter shut—“I would take you somewhere dark and rip your clothes off with my teeth without caring to have a good reason. Just so I could see you, have you to myself.”

Rosie’s lips parted, and when her tongue came out and wet her lips, it almost became physically impossible for me to hold back any longer. God, I wanted to touch her, lick her, kiss her everywhere.

I stepped away in a brisk motion. Then I moved forward again, and as if compelled, I grabbed her hand.

“Count the Halloween party as an experimental date if you like,” I told her, leading her forward with me. “But we shook on four. We agreed four dates.”

“So, I already planned for the next one,” I continued. “I was going to tell you to keep your schedule free on Thursday.” I remembered Aiden Castillo’s “great news. “Or if you want to pack on Thursday, I can help you and we could postpone. I guess—”

“No,” she finally said, and the way that word left her mouth made me look over at her. “Thursday night is okay. It’s a date.”

Nodding my head, I ripped my gaze off her and clamped down my mouth before I said something stupid, like how neither of us had called this fourth date experimental.

A few minutes later, we were climbing the stairs to the apartment, Rosie’s hand still in mine, when she called. “Lucas?”

“I hope… I hope this makes you happy.”

nanafark

Megan BV

“Sometimes we keep things from those we love for reasons we don’t even understand ourselves.”

Sophie Hutchings

Have you ever felt this on a date before, Rosie?' His voice was low, barely a grumble, but it reached deep inside of me. I shook my head. My pulse raced through my body, reaching areas that had been neglected and were now wide awake. 'Is this a strong enough spark for you?' his gaze dipped downt my lips, where I was smeared with tomato sauce. I watched his thro bob. Because I can try harder. For you, I will.”

‘I want to do the noble thing, Rosie.' I dipped my nose in her hair, taking that deep whiff of her scent like the animal I was. ‘But I'm finding it really hard when all I want to do is sinful things to you.’

AHHHHHHHHH. I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. 

Someone was trying to break into my apartment.

Fine. Technically, it wasn’t my apartment, but rather the apartment I was currently staying in. That didn’t change the facts. Because if living in a couple of questionable neighborhoods in New York had taught me anything, it was that if someone didn’t knock, they weren’t interested in asking to be let in.

“Hello?” The deep voice on the other side of the door called. “Is anyone home?”

Squaring my shoulders, I turned around very slowly. There was still a chance that—

The jingle I had set for that stupid motivational app I’d downloaded earlier today blared through the apartment for a second time.

Jesus. Someone was out to get me today. Karma, kismet, fate, Lady Luck, or some all-powerful entity I had clearly pissed off. Maybe even Murphy and his stupid law.

I finally grabbed my phone to set the stupid thing to silent.

    Involuntarily, my eyes scanned the supposedly inspirational quote on the screen: IF OPPORTUNITY DOESN’T KNOCK, BUILD A DOOR.

“I could hear that, you know?” Intruder said. “The phone, then the bang, then the phone again.” A pause. “Are you… okay?”

I frowned. How considerate for a possible burglar.

He pressed on: “I know there’s someone in there. I can hear you breathing.”

A gasp of outrage left me. I was not a heavy breather.

“Okay, listen,” Intruder said with a chuckle. A chuckle. Was he laughing? At my expense? “I’m just—”

“No, you listen,” I finally blurted out, hearing my voice crack and wobble. “Whatever it is that you’re doing, I don’t care. I’ve—I’ve—” I’d been standing there like a doofus, doing nothing. And that stopped now. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Hi—” I cleared my throat. “Hello. There’s… there’s someone trying to break in the apartment I’m in.”

“Wait, you’re really calling?” Intruder yelped. But then, he said, “Oh, okay. I see.” Following that with another chuckle. Another. Chuckle. Did he find any of this funny? “This is a joke.”

“Hello?” came from my phone’s speaker. “Miss? If this isn’t an emergency—”

“Oh, but it is,” I said immediately. “As I was saying, I’m calling to report a break-in.”

Intruder spoke before the dispatcher could, “I’m standing in the hallway. How have I broken in? I didn’t even make it inside.”

Now that he was saying more than a couple of words at a time, I could hear his accent more clearly. The way he enunciated certain words was familiar and set off a bell somewhere in my head. But I didn’t have time or energy to spare for bells right this moment.

“Now, can you please open this door and be done with it? It’s past midnight and I’m exhausted.” The humor had left his voice. “Tell her she’s hilarious. We’ll remember this as one of the best pranks in history.”

Frowning, I lowered my voice and spoke right into the phone. “Did you hear that? I think he might be deranged.”

“Deranged?” Intruder scoffed. “I’m not crazy, just… tired.” Something dropped to the floor with a thud on the other side of the door and I prayed it wasn’t him because I wasn’t up for dealing with an unconscious man on top of everything.

“I heard,” the dispatcher said. “And, miss, I’m—”

“Did I get the wrong door or something?” Intruder interrupted.

“Miss,” the emergency dispatcher hissed. “Your name and the address to your home, please.”

“Rosie,” I said quickly. “I’m Rosalyn Graham and… And, well, technically this is not my home. I’m at my best friend’s place. She’s away at the moment, and I needed… a place to stay. But I didn’t break in, obviously. I had a key.”

“And I have a key, too,” Intruder offered.

“Impossible.” I scowled at the door. “I have the only spare that exists.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, unable to stop the two words from coming out. Because I was sorry. “I’m just making sure that—”

“That I’m not a deranged person,” Intruder answered before I could get through with the rest of my apology. “Catalina Martín, born the twenty-second of November. Brown hair, brown eyes, loud laugh.” My eyes shut again, the swirling in my belly climbing up to my throat. “She’s tiny but if she kicks you in the nuts, she’ll knock the air right out of you all the same. I know that from firsthand experience.” A short pause. “What else? Let’s see… Oh, she hates snakes or anything that looks remotely like one. Even if that’s a few socks sewn together and filled with toilet paper. Clever, huh? Well, that was what led to the nuts kicking. So the joke was really on me.”

So much that I couldn’t even bring myself to stop him when he went on, “She’s away for the next few weeks. Enjoying her honeymoon in… Peru, was it?” He waited for my confirmation, but none came. I was speechless. Mortified. “Aaron’s the lucky guy. A tall and intimidating-looking dude from the photos I’ve seen.”

“I haven’t met him in person. Not yet.”

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

But then, he said, “I didn’t have the pleasure of attending the wedding.”

And just when I thought I’d collected myself enough to say something else—hopefully marginally smart—his lips stretched. That puzzled look dissolved completely, giving way to a smile, and whatever words had climbed to my mouth crumbled.

Because he was smiling. And it was big and bright and, quite frankly, beautiful in this blatant way you don’t really know what to do with.

Possibly more than the smile he wore on the one screenshot I had allowed myself to keep and might still look at occasionally.

“In that case,” he said through his sunny and upside-down grin. “If we don’t really know each other then, hi. I’m Lucas Martín. Lina’s cousin.”

I knew that. I knew exactly who he was. He wouldn’t believe just how well I did.

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