Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“You can’t afford a resort that good.” She sucks me deep along with a long stroke of her hand, and my eyes roll back in my head.
I shudder as my balls contract. “You could be right.”
I turn into Kate’s street and pull up across the road. “I’ll pick you up in a few hours.”
“Are you sure about this?” She frowns.
I lean over and kiss her. “Positive.”
It’s one week, don’t get excited.
“Okay.” She smiles. “What will I pack?”
“Nothing, we won’t be wearing any clothes.”
She giggles and we look over to see that guy she lives with come out the front door. He’s dressed up and walks down the stairs and gets into the Audi that’s parked out the front—he’s good-looking and dressed well. We watch as the car pulls out and drives away. “What’s his name?” I ask.
“Daniel?”
“You know who I’m talking about, don’t be cute.”
“What is your problem with him?” She frowns. “He’s lovely.”
“I bet he is.”
He wants her.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing, he’s very touchy with you, that’s all.”
“That’s just his personality.”
“I don’t like it.”
Kate rolls her eyes. “He’s a friend, Elliot.” She opens the car door. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Okay.” I nod and hold my tongue about her touchy-feely, fuckwit roommate.
I’ll deal with him later.
My phone rings and the name Tristan lights up.
“See you soon.” She kisses me quickly and jumps out of the car.
“Hey.” I answer my phone on speaker.
Kate turns and waves and I sit and watch her walk inside.
“Can you talk?” Tristan asks.
“Uh-huh.”
The front door closes behind Kate and I pull out into the street.
“How was last night?” Tristan asks.
“Good.” I smirk.
Incredible.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Well, it must have been fucking good to make you leave New York a week early. Anyone I know?”
I smirk again. You could say that. “Nope.”
“Are you seeing her again?”
“I’m going away with her today for a week, actually.”
“What? Didn’t you say last night was the first date?”
“It was.”
“Your second date is a week away?” He gasps. “Fuck me dead, it must have been some fucking date.”
I smile as I turn the corner. “Don’t get excited, she’s not Mrs. Miles.”
He laughs. “Famous last words.”
“It’s just a week, I don’t have to worry about paps then.”
“Fair enough. Where are you taking her?”
“No clue, any ideas?”
“What are you after?”
“Something private, hot, and beachy. Cocktails and restaurants.”
“Hmm, St. Barts?”
“No, I’ll run into someone I know there at this time of year. Under the radar if possible.”
“I’ll have a look now.”
“Okay. Thanks.” My phone beeps as another call comes in. “I’ve got another call, I’ll call you back. Elliot Miles,” I answer.
“Hello Mr. Miles. It’s Peter from Strathborn Investigations.”
“Ah.” I’ve been waiting for them to get back to me. “How are you?”
“Very well. I have some good news.”
“Great.”
“We finally have a lead on your artist, Harriet Boucher.”
“What is it?”
“We think we’ve located where she is.”
I listen intently. I’ve been searching for this woman for over a year.
“And?”
“If it’s the right woman, and we think that it is, she’s currently in the South of France.”
I frown as I listen. “Are you certain it’s her?”
“I’ll have confirmation this week. She flies completely under the radar.”
“When you have confirmation, I’ll book a flight. I want to meet her in person.”
“Mr. Miles, do you mind me asking what your business is with this woman?” he asks.
“It’s of a personal nature,” I reply curtly.
“Okay, I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.” I hang up and turn the corner. I don’t know what my fascination with Harriet Boucher is . . . but I need to find out.
She’s calling to me through her paintings . . . and I don’t know why.
But I keep coming back to her, I can’t drop this.
One word describes her.
Extraordinary.
Chapter 12
KATE
I bounce up the stairs and turn and give Elliot a wave; he smiles and gives me a playful salute.
I smile and push the door open. “Hey,” I call to Rebecca.
She comes rushing out of her room. “Oh my God, what happened?” She looks at her watch. “You’re only getting home now? Holy crap, I need all the details.”
“Well . . .” I give her a coy smile and shrug. “It went well . . . I think.”
“What happened?” She lies along the back of the couch.
“We went to dinner and ate in a private dining room.”
“Private dining?”
“Then we went back to his house and it’s a wonder that I can walk.”
Her eyes widen. “You had sex? You never fuck on first dates.”
“I know, but damn it, I should. Because I had the best night ever.”
She smiles dreamily. “Are you seeing him again?”
“Uh-huh.”
“When?”
“He’s picking me up in three hours, actually.”
“Ooh, date the next day, he is keen.”
“We’re going away for a week.”
“What?” She sits up so fast that she overbalances and falls over the back of the couch, lands spectacularly on the ground, and smashes her elbow. “Oww.”
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I rush to her side and help her up. She rubs her elbow. “That fucking hurt.”