Title:
Hate Crush
Author:
Angelina M. Lopez
Series:
Filthy
Rich, #2
Length:416 pages
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Imprint:
Carina Press
eBook
On-Sale: June 29, 2020
eBook
ISBN & Price: 9781488057052, $3.99 U.S.
MMP
On-Sale: June 30, 2020
MMP
ISBN & Price: 9781335459503, $8.99 U.S.
Book
Description: A fake relationship could help Princesa
Sofia save her kingdom. Only problem: She’ll have to fake it with the man who
broke her heart.
Ten years ago, wild child Princesa Sofia
Maria Isabel de Esperanza y Santos fell in fast crazy love with heartbreaker
Aish Salinger during one California harvest season. Now, all grown up and with
the future of her kingdom on her shoulders, she hates him as passionately as
she once loved him.
Even if her body hasn’t gotten the hate memo.
Faking a relationship with the now-famous rock star
for the press and public will ensure the success of her new winery and
prosperity of her kingdom. All she has to do is grit her teeth and bear his
tattooed presence in her village and winery—her home—for a month.
Trying to recover from his own scandal, fallen
superstar Aish Salinger jumps at the chance to be near Sofia again. Leaving her
was the biggest mistake he’s ever made, and he’s waited ten years to win her
back.
He never counted on finding a woman who despised him
so much she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
A war of wills breaks out as the princess and rock
star battle to control their fake relationship. She wants to dictate every
action to keep him away from her. He wants to be as close as he can be. She’s
already lost so much because of Aish—e won’t be the reason her people lose even
more.
But he also won’t make her break her life’s most
important vow: To never fall in love again.
Read Filthy Rich Book One, Lush Money,
available now from Carina Press!
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Aish pulled the bud out of his ear and
straightened, never taking his eyes off her as he held it out. When she took
the bud from him, she let her fingers linger. His fingertips were warm and that
tiny touch sent a frisson down her arm.
She unwrapped the headphones from around her neck and
stuffed them into her back pocket. But she didn’t move back.
“I’m a musician,” he said, voice low.
“I know.”
A corner of his mouth went up. “What else do you know?”
That he made every millimeter of her skin buzz. That he
smelled like boy and sweat and ocean salt. She hated the nose-clogging scent of
cologne. There was nothing fake about the way this boy smelled.
She
pulled her long braid over her shoulder and tugged on it. “You’re from LA, your
father designs clothes, your mother is a famous fitness instructor. Y…you’re
very good at surfing, singing, partying, working harder on less sleep than
everyone else and…oh, sí, ménage à trois.”
Shock, mortification, and humor created a palette across
his expressive face. “Who said I’m good at threesomes?”
Sofia ran a hand down her braid and shrugged, all Spanish
cool. “No sé. I keep my nose to myself. It’s everyone else who talks.”
When he grinned this time, he looked like he might lean
down and taste her. “And what does everyone say about you?”
Sofia worked to maintain her smile. She wanted to be no
one to nobody. She wanted to have nothing said about her. But even if she’d
lived a cloistered life in a high tower, her story would be marred with her
parents’ dramas and affairs and fights, ugly public episodes that stripped
Sofia of dignity without her involvement. And Princesa Sofia hadn’t lived a
cloistered life. Maintaining her dignity hadn’t been high on her list when
she’d mooned the crowd from atop a Semana Santa float in Cádiz or when she’d
waved drunkenly to the paparazzi from a movie star’s hotel balcony when she was
supposed to be presented to the Queen of England. She’d been neither drunk nor
sleeping with the star. But her humiliated mother had abandoned the duke’s
bedroom she’d been occupying to drag Sofia back to the Monte.
She didn’t want to think about her scandalous past. She
didn’t want to think about the demands of her future. All Sofia wanted right
now was to be a dirty, half-naked girl wrapped around a beautiful boy in a wine
tank.
“I know some stuff about you,” Aish said quietly.
Sofia focused on the air in front of his face and ran her
hand down her braid.
“Your name’s Sofia.
That’s…really fucking pretty.” He hadn’t said Princess Sofia. He hadn’t said
Sofia de
Esperanza y Santos. Just Sofia. And he thought it was
pretty. She focused again on his eyes.
“You’ve got a great accent.” The air between them felt
like it was warming up. “You like grunt work, which is so hot it kinda hurts.”
Nothing about her royal status. Nothing about her reputation.
He’d just arrived; perhaps none of the interns had told him about the princess
in their midst. Perhaps his uncle had just said, “Make sure the new intern
hasn’t passed out. Her name is Sofia.”
“You’re not wearing a bra.” Her mouth opened at that,
surprised, as his eyed gripped shut. “I noticed and if you noticed I noticed,
I’m sorry ’cause I don’t want you to think I’m a total fucking creeper and
scare you away…”
“I don’t think you’re a creeper,” she said, reaching to
brush her fingers over his clenched fist. Her breasts were so small she seldom
wore a bra. But this boy acted like they were an irresistible temptation.
Aish opened his eyes. “Are you for real?”
Sofia smiled up at him, feeling helpless and foolish and
floating.
“I mean, am I having some weird acid flashback?” His
urgency seemed to express that it was a real possibility.
“Wouldn’t I be having one, too?” she asked. “And I’ve
never done acid.”
“No,
no.” He was a lit fuse aimed in her direction. “This could be my own personal
hallucination. Because, what the fuck. My uncle tells me to go check on the
new intern and inside a tank is a kick-ass, bare-skinned fairy girl listening
to elf music. I feel like I’m tripping. Am I?”
With amazement beaming from her, Sofia shook her head.
He
reacted like she’d punched him. “Fuck. Your smile. Can I kiss you?”
Copyright © 2020 by Angelina M. Lopez
About Angelina
M. Lopez
Angelina M.
Lopez wrote "arthur" when her kindergarten teacher asked her what she
wanted to be when she grew up. In the years since she learned to spell the word
correctly, she's been a journalist for an acclaimed city newspaper, a freelance
magazine writer, and a content marketer for small businesses. Finally, she
found her way back to "author."
Angelina writes
sexy, contemporary stories about strong women and the confident men lucky
enough to fall in love with them. The fact that her parents own a vineyard in
California’s Russian River Valley might imply a certain hedonism about her;
it's not true. She's a wife and a mom who lives in the suburbs of Washington,
D.C. She makes to-do lists with perfectly drawn check boxes. She checks them
with glee.
You can find
more about her at her website, AngelinaMLopez.com.
Connect with
Angelina M. Lopez
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