Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
His left eyebrow arches. “Then spare him the head explosion and come with me. You said I ruined your birthday party, so let me make it up to you.”
I should confess that I’m Sean’s sister or at least run in the opposite direction, but I do something I know I’ll probably regret.
I nod. “I’ll go home with you.”
Harrison’s home is a sight to behold.
When the Uber driver pulled up to the curb in front of a grand-looking red-bricked brownstone on the Upper East Side, I was impressed.
I grew up in a home very much like this.
That home is currently under renovation while my parents soak up the sun in Florida. When I initially planned my birthday trip to Manhattan, I thought I could crash in a small corner of that mansion for a few weeks, but my mom told me to steer clear of it since almost every square inch is undergoing a major revamp.
“You have a beautiful home, Harry,” I tell him as he flicks on a light switch that bathes the foyer and the formal living room in soft light.
His gaze catches mine as he drops his phone and keys on a rectangular table. “Thanks, London.”
An uncontrollable smile coasts over my lips. “London is not my name.”
Scanning my face, he scratches his chin. “I know, but for some reason, you have yet to reveal your true identity to me.”
“It’s not as though it’s a secret,” I whisper.
He slides his suit jacket from his shoulders. “In the elevator the other day, you said I know your name. Do you work for one of my companies?”
I struggle to hold in a smile since the question comes out as a not-so-humble brag. “I don’t work for you.”
Taking his time, he hangs the suit jacket over the back of an armchair. He adjusts the shoulders, ensuring the garment is level before he turns to face me. “You mentioned it was your birthday, and I’d be remiss in not wishing you a happy birthday.”
I perk a brow while I wait.
He steps close to where I’m still standing in the open foyer. “Happy Birthday, whoever you are.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“How old are you?”
I straighten my back. “Twenty-one.”
His left hand darts to the middle of his chest. “You’re joking. You’re twenty-one?”
“Ouch?” I grimace. “That sounded like an insult.”
He loosens his tie. “You seem older to me. Something in your eyes makes you seem wiser than any twenty-one-year-old I’ve ever known.”
That’s a compliment I’ll happily accept. “I am wise.”
“Wise enough to know that only the people closest to me call me Harry.” He huffs out a humorless laugh. “Yet, you’ve done it repeatedly now.”
I nod.
“Why is that, London?”
I want to laugh and ask why it’s a big deal, but I can tell that he views me as a puzzle that he can’t solve. If I’m not mistaken, he’s enjoying this little game we’re playing.
“Sooner or later, you’re going to recognize me.”
His brow furrows slightly. “You say that as if we’ve met before.”
“We have,” I say with a smile. “Concentrate on my face, and it will all come back to you.”
He closes the distance between us with measured steps. Before I know what’s happening, his hands are cupping my face, luring my chin up, so our eyes meet.
His gaze travels over my forehead, to my eyes, and nose before it trails to my lips. “You’re breathtaking. I’d remember this face if I had seen it before. I’d remember everything about you.”
My traitorous nipples harden again even though the silk of my dress is starting to dry.
“You’ve seen me before,” I whisper.
He edges closer, his breath breezing over my cheek. “Have I kissed you before?”
Only in my dreams.
I hold those words inside of me. “No.”
“I’m an idiot.” He smiles. “I won’t make that mistake twice.”
His eyelids flutter shut, and as his lips hover over mine, I feel a war raging within me.
I can seize this moment and let him take me to bed, or I can confess that I’m his best friend’s younger sister.
The angel within me is winning the battle with the devil, so I sigh. “Harry?”
His eyes pop open and search mine for an explanation.
I drop my gaze to the floor and suck in a deep breath. “I need to tell you who I am.”
“It won’t change the fact that I want to kiss you,” he confesses in a deep tone. “I’ll still want you in my bed for the night. Let me give you a birthday to remember, London.”
I glance at his face. It would be so easy to give in to the temptation.
But it would be wrong.
I rest a hand against the center of his chest. The man is solid as a rock. My imagination runs wild with a vision of what he must look like shirtless, and as my gaze trails down his body, I’m hit with the thought of him naked.