The perfect stranger, p.1
The Perfect Stranger, page 1
The Perfect Stranger
Charlotte Byrd
Contents
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The Perfect Stranger
Prologue - Isabelle
1. Tyler
2. Isabelle
3. Tyler
4. Isabelle
5. Tyler
6. Isabelle
7. Isabelle
8. Tyler
9. Tyler
10. Isabelle
11. Isabelle
12. Tyler
13. Tyler
14. Tyler
15. Isabelle
16. Isabelle
17. Isabelle
18. Isabelle
19. Tyler
20. Tyler
21. Isabelle
22. Isabelle
23. Isabelle
24. Isabelle
25. Tyler
26. Isabelle
27. Isabelle
28. Isabelle
29. Isabelle
30. Isabelle
31. Isabelle
32. Tyler
33. Isabelle
34. Isabelle
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Copyright © 2020 by Charlotte Byrd, LLC.
All rights reserved.
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This book is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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“BEST AUTHOR YET! Charlotte has done it again! There is a reason she is an amazing author and she continues to prove it! I was definitely not disappointed in this series!!” ★★★★★
“LOVE!!! I loved this book and the whole series!!! I just wish it didn't have to end. I am definitely a fan for life!!! ★★★★★
“Extremely captivating, sexy, steamy, intriguing, and intense!” ★★★★★
“Addictive and impossible to put down.” ★★★★★
“What a magnificent story from the 1st book through book 6 it never slowed down always surprising the reader in one way or the other. Nicholas and Olive's paths crossed in a most unorthodox way and that's how their story begins it's exhilarating with that nail biting suspense that keeps you riding on the edge the whole series. You'll love it!” ★★★★★
“What is Love Worth. This is a great epic ending to this series. Nicholas and Olive have a deep connection and the mystery surrounding the deaths of the people he is accused of murdering is to be read. Olive is one strong woman with deep convictions. The twists, angst, confusion is all put together to make this worthwhile read.” ★★★★★
“Fast-paced romantic suspense filled with twists and turns, danger, betrayal, and so much more.” ★★★★★
“Decadent, delicious, & dangerously addictive!” - Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Titillation so masterfully woven, no reader can resist its pull. A MUST-BUY!” - Bobbi Koe, Amazon Review ★★★★★
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“Sexy, secretive, pulsating chemistry…” - Mrs. K, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★
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About Charlotte Byrd
Charlotte Byrd is the bestselling author of romantic suspense novels. She has sold over 700,000 books and has been translated into five languages.
She lives near Palm Springs, California with her husband, son, and a toy Australian Shepherd who hates water. Charlotte is addicted to books and Netflix and she loves hot weather and crystal blue water.
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
All books are available at ALL major retailers! If you can’t find it, please email me at charlotte@charlotte-byrd.com
The Perfect Stranger Series
The Perfect Stranger
The Perfect Cover
The Perfect Lie
The Perfect Life
The Perfect Getaway
The Perfect Couple
All the Lies Series
All the Lies
All the Secrets
All the Doubts
All the Truths
All the Promises
All the Hopes
Tell me Series
Tell Me to Stop
Tell Me to Go
Tell Me to Stay
Tell Me to Run
Tell Me to Fight
Tell Me to Lie
Wedlocked Trilogy
Dangerous Engagement
Lethal Wedding
Fatal Wedding
Tangled Series
Tangled up in Ice
Tangled up in Pain
Tangled up in Lace
Tangled up in Hate
Tangled up in Love
Black Series
Black Edge
Black Rules
Black Bounds
Black Contract
Black Limit
Not into you Duet
Not into you
Still not into you
Lavish Trilogy
Lavish Lies
Lavish Betrayal
Lavish Obsession
Standalone Novels
Dressing Mr. Dalton
Debt
Offer
Unknown
The Perfect Stranger
When he burst into my life, he set everything on fire.
He is a multi-millionaire, escaped inmate serving life in prison for a double murder he didn’t commit.
He was once my only friend and my first crush.
He doesn’t ask for help and I don’t offer.
His hair falls into his face and a strand brushes along his chiseled jaw. His vulnerability is disarming.
We both know that he shouldn’t be here, but when I stare into his piercing, intense eyes, I can’t look away.
I want to tell him to leave, but then he leans over and runs his finger over my lower lip.
When our mouths touch, I know that I won’t be able to stop.
What happens when one night isn’t enough?
Prologue - Isabelle
When it happens…
I can feel my heart pounding as I press my face to the door. I can’t leave. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get back to my normal life again.
These four walls are all I have. He puts me in my own bedroom and locks the door.
I let out a slight sigh of relief.
At least he didn’t follow me inside.
At least he didn’t throw me onto the bed and… You know how it goes.
It’s every woman’s worst nightmare.
No, that hasn’t happened.
Yet.
All that he has done so far is put a blindfold over my eyes and push me into my room.
My hands are drenched in sweat and my body is shaking. I’m all alone and ye
My life has been full of fears even though nothing extraordinary or even a little bit exciting has ever happened to me. I like it that way.
I’m timid, and I’m quiet, and I’m the girl with her head in a book. Most of the time I get my coffee to go, but on occasion I venture inside and sit behind my laptop in a crowded room, just to be next to some people without feeling pressure to interact with them.
I have always been like this. I never wanted all that stuff that people on television want from life.
I never wanted a successful career up a corporate ladder.
I never wanted wealth and power, okay, maybe I want a little money.
I never even wanted to be a mother. Not yet anyway.
My life is super ordinary and I thought it would always be like that.
Until today.
I count my breaths. They are fast at first, a little bit out of control, but as the minutes tick by, they calm down. My breathing becomes more even and I stop shaking.
What just happened?
I try to replay the events of the day, but I get a mental block. My mind refuses to let me go any further back than the moment when I opened the door and saw him on my doorstep.
Perhaps, saw is the wrong word.
Who did I see exactly? I try to remember his face, but nothing comes to mind. He was wearing something over it.
A mask? No, not really.
It was something else.
A baseball hat hung low over his eyes and a bandanna covered his nose and mouth. His eyes were dark, piercing.
They should have looked dangerous but they didn’t. Not at first, anyway, and that’s why I hesitated.
I haven’t had anyone come to my door in a while. No food delivery guys or missionaries like the ones who came all the time when I was little. Do those even exist anymore?
Still, I should have known.
I should have looked through the peephole first. It’s there for a reason, right?
I kick myself for hesitating. People don’t just go around wearing bandannas over their faces for no reason.
It’s eleven in the morning on an average, sunny Saturday.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Tyler
When I see her…
I shouldn’t be here. I don't belong here, but this is the only place I can go. This is the only way that I can get out of this mess and even then, I probably won't.
Still, I have to see her. I haven’t seen her in years and if this all goes wrong, I will probably never see her again.
To protect her and to protect myself, I can't let her see my face.
She hesitates before opening the door when I knock.
I wonder if she will. If she doesn't then there goes my whole plan.
I wait, carefully looking around to make sure that none of her neighbors are around.
It's the worst possible time to be on a suburban cul-de-sac. The kids can come out at any moment to ride their bikes. A busy mom can load up her third row SUV for a soccer game.
I know this because this is where I grew up. Not exactly here, but not far from here with a stay-at-home mom who worked harder than most working moms.
She was the one who baked cookies. She was the one who invited everyone to sleepovers. She was the one who built the backyard swing set all by herself while my dad was flying all around the country, gone two weeks out of every month.
The garage next door opens and an Oldsmobile pulls out very slowly. My heart sinks. I turn my body away from them and lower the bandanna to my neck.
If they see me, there's a chance they won't remember my face, or at least it will be in shadows. If they catch me wearing this? I will be more memorable.
I don't know what they see or what they don't see, but they pull out of the driveway and slowly disappear around the corner.
Finally, she answers the door. Her hair is disheveled, long and stringy, pulled up into a loose bun on top of her head. Her skin is pale and white, dry in spots, like she hasn't seen the sun for a long time.
But it is her eyes that make my knees buckle. Almond shaped and piercing, just like I remember. Her lashes are thick and black and there is a little bit of a smudge of eyeliner at the corners. The irises are hazel, with a mysterious mixture of green and brown as well as specks of gold. She parts her blush pink lips for a moment and suddenly I remember why I am here.
I don't want to do this.
This is the last thing I want to do, but it's my only way out. I didn't kill anyone and I can't do thirty years for a crime I didn't commit.
No, I can't go back to prison.
Isabelle
While I wait…
My heart starts to race.
Stop blaming yourself. This isn’t your fault. It’s his. You didn’t do anything wrong. Why do you always do this to yourself?
I know that I am right, but the thoughts of everything that I could have, or perhaps should have, done keep flooding my mind.
This isn't supposed to happen. I am just a normal person trying to live my life. This doesn't happen in reality. This only happens to people on Netflix.
I don’t know what is happening to me. I don't deserve this, but it's worse than that. I can't deal with it.
I can't even deal with normal life.
I don't like parties. I don't like going out. I'm an introvert and I like things that way. I’m happy with my life just the way it is. I have my schedule. I have my students. I teach little kids to talk.
I love seeing their progress and I love watching them get the words just right. This is what I studied to do in college and now I’m doing it. How many people can say that?
I work in a small office where there are three other speech therapists and I make a decent salary of close to $50,000 a year. Maybe it’s not a lot of money for some people, but it’s more than enough for me.
I don’t have many expenses. I live well below my means and I save most of that income. I’m almost done with paying off my loans.
After that? Well, frankly I don’t know what I’m going to do with all that money.
Maybe I can take a vacation, but then again, it would be easier to just imagine taking a vacation rather than actually taking one.
The thing is that I have certain fears.
I’m afraid of flying.
I’m afraid of driving long distances, especially at night.
I’m afraid of heights.
I’m afraid of wide-open spaces.
I’m afraid of closed-in rooms with too many people.
I’m afraid of speaking to groups of people.
On the outside, you wouldn’t really be able to tell. I can hide most of these fears well enough so that you don’t see the sweat on my lower back whenever I have to talk on the phone with a credit card company or God forbid a medical insurance biller.
The one time that my ex-boyfriend surprised me with a trip to Hawaii, I had a panic attack and couldn’t get on the plane. Angry, he went by himself and met his future wife.
