Leah Remini Images Novels & Stories

Leah saw many drawings and paintings of Olima's images, and she wasn't mistaken about the images that she had seen. She even forgot herself in the study, admiring the beautiful oil painting of Olima's images, as Olima was the only lady's portraits that were much in Justin's studying room, while the rest of the young ladies that Justin had also drawn, Leah didn't know who they were. Leah had wanted to steal one of the photos and step out to show the photos to Olima, but just then, Justin stepped into his study, and he was wrapped in his white long towel around her waist, as he stared at her with brooding eyes.

At least not without a better solution to ending the war. Leah got up from her seat and headed to her room. She had a lot to think about. She knew one thing for sure: she didn't want to mate with Theodore Blackwell. Leah entered her room and went straight to the bathroom. Once showered and changed, she got into bed and promptly gave into exhaustion.

There was a pause. The kind that tells you someone is choosing their next words carefully. “The summary,” he said finally, “is that I got you an assistant.” I sat up straighter. “You what?” “She’s one of the best,” he said. “Her name is Leah. She has worked with Teni Lawson, Maya West, Amara Blake, and two media personalities you like. She will make your life easier. And safer. And she will help you manage this… attention.”

“Hi, India. I’ve heard so much about you.” “Likewise,” India managed, her heart racing. Sharon looped her arm through Leah’s. “Leah’s just moved back to town. Can you believe it? And she’s not married, not yet. We’re so lucky she could join us tonight.” --- Dinner started with chatter and wine. Leah sat right beside Denver—Sharon’s doing, of course—and Sharon seemed determined to shine a spotlight on her guest. “Have you seen Leah’s latest paintings? She’s had two gallery shows in Chicago. And you should have heard her solo at the Paytons’ anniversary party last month. Everyone said it gave them goosebumps.”

The group of princesses behind me made a squeal as the young man sauntered out of the crowd into the clearing in the middle of the hall. “Deucalion,” I whispered, looking at the selected prince. I couldn’t see most of him from where I stood, but he had beautiful black hair just like Valerian just longer, reaching almost his waist. He wore a red jacket over a pair of red trousers. He caught my stare, and I instinctively turned back to the announcer. He pulled a parchment from the second box and having already been caught staring at the handsome prince, the thought of having the dance with him was no longer appealing.

There was a time during my grief that I would stare at the trees and sky for several hours, till I downed a whole bottle of liquor, and was totally wasted. Layla had changed from the midi gown, Rosa tucked her in, into a purple tank top and white pajamas shorts, with purple hibiscus design on it, that stopped at her mid thigh. I had to admit that she was sexy as hell. The dress was originally for Sarah, but it fitted Layla so well. My dick twitched at the thought of swatting her rump, or having to behold the creamy skin that swept me off my feet in the early hours of the morning more clearly, but I quickly brushed it off my mind.

I glanced up, my heart thumping at the unexpected hesitation in her eyes. “Well,” Helena said slowly, choosing her words with caution. “Luna Claire is perfectly healthy, but…” “But what?” Liam’s voice sharpened with frustration. Helena took a deep breath. “Our Luna is with child, alpha.” My blood turned to ice. No, this can't be. Liam hasn't been touching me for months. Unless… no!

she was sarcastically referring to Celestine and the nuts while chuckling. I shrugged and pointed out Carla. She only showed her an innocent smile. "The leader of the cheering squad?" Lily inquired. "Carla," she introduced. "And Brix," Pointing on the man next to her. "And Andrie, my brother," she continued, motioning her index finger to Andrie who was holding a food tray.