Mistake: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

mean?"
    "I mean exactly what I said, let's do a little practice dance. I don't do it very often, and I don't want to look like a jacka.... I mean idiot." I'd told Julian the day before that I didn't like his constant cursing, and while he had dismissed it at the time, I noticed he was somewhat lowering his curse quotient.
    "Alright," I said, stepping closer. "Although I'll be wearing three inch heels tomorrow."
    "That's okay, I'll be in dress shoes too." He held his arms up, taking my hand in his, and there was a moment when electricity jumped between us. I could see he felt it too, and both of us stepped back for a moment. When he stepped forward again, placing his hand on the waistband of the long pajama pants I was wearing, it rested there lightly, while I placed my hand on his shoulder and we took a hold of each other's hands again. "Okay, that's not too bad. Now, a few steps?"
    "Sure," I replied. He led me around, just a simple four step circle, before stepping back. I could see in his eyes that he wanted something more, and I had to admit to myself that my body enjoyed his touch. But then the smug look of self satisfaction that he hid behind dropped over his features again, and I remembered why I barely could tolerate him. "Is that it?"
    "That's it," he said. "See you tomorrow, Krystal."
    He left my room and I went back to bed, picking up my book where it had been. Still, despite my best efforts, Achilles in my mind started looking distinctly Nordic, and had what might have been a lot of tattoos on his right arm.

    * * *
    Krystal

    T he next day couldn't have been any more ideal if you had bribed the heavens themselves. There were just a few big, fluffy clouds in the sky, and the sun was warm without being overly hot. The ceremony itself was rather simple, although I knew it only looked that way because the wedding planner and Yuki busted their asses making everything come off without a hitch. Just the pure logistics of seating the various Hepburns, Castelbons, and the few Aksoys who had come was in itself a feat of social engineering.
    I was grateful that Mom hadn't gone with the standard of having her bridesmaids all wearing stupid looking dresses. My aunt Gina was the maid of honor, which was kind of an in-family joke, while I got to be in second position. The wedding designer had set us up with some very pretty cocktail dresses, and there wasn't a scrap of poofy sleeves or teal in sight. Instead, I got to wear a Vera Wang cocktail dress in deep red, which worked perfectly for me. Mom of course wore white, although she ditched the veil. With her long blond hair very little of it dyed that way, she was angelic in every sense. To be honest, I was so happy for Mom the whole thing went by like a flash. The only thing that did cross my mind was when I came in, Julian was sitting in the front row on the Castelbon side, wearing a tuxedo that made him look actually normal, and incredibly handsome. He kind of looked like James Bond, but a bit bigger and more muscular. Wow, he cleans up pretty good, I thought to myself.
    With the ceremony completed, the reception got underway just as the afternoon turned cool. The English manicured garden had been set up with a huge pavilion, and the food was good. I'll say that Alinea can turn out better food, but I also know that I've never had to cook for two hundred people at once, with all the courses to be delivered within a seven minute window from Mom and Johnathan getting their plate to the last table. I personally had the cedar plank salmon with roasted vegetables and a buerre blanc sauce, and the dessert was even better, a blackberry gelato that married perfectly with the slices of chocolate wedding cake.
    As the sun finished going down, the entertainment itself kicked off. Despite my concerns that having a couple of international stars as the wedding band wouldn't work, I had to say, Meat Loaf rocked the house. He was a consummate showman, but at the same time I thought he did a