New York, Actually: A sparkling romantic comedy from the bestselling Queen of Romance. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t make me nervous,” she lied. “I’m not used to sexual innuendo this early in the morning. Or men like you. You’re—”

      “Cute? Irresistible? Interesting?”

      “I was thinking more of annoying, predictable and inappropriate.”

      His smile promised fun and sin and a thousand things she didn’t dare think about while she had hot tea in her hand.

      “I made you nervous. And flustered. And if I were to analyze you, I’d say you’re a woman who hates to feel either of those things.”

      Flustered? Oh yes, she was flustered. Being close to him made her feel light-headed and dizzy. She was agonizingly aware of every single detail, from the dark masculinity of his unshaven jaw, to the wicked glint in his eyes. But beneath the humor was a sharp eye for detail, and that worried her more than anything.

      She had a feeling he saw far more than people usually did.

      It was like hiding in a cupboard and knowing that someone was right outside the door waiting for you to reveal yourself.

      And that was closer than she ever let anyone step.

      “Thanks for the tea.” She threw the cup away and reached for Valentine’s lead.

      “Wait.” He reached out and caught her hand. “Don’t go.”

      “I have to work.” It was true, although that wasn’t why she was leaving. She knew it. He knew it. Conversation, a light flirtation—that was all fine. She didn’t want more. “Goodbye, Daniel. Have a great day.” She whistled to Valentine, put him back on his lead and took off through the park without looking back.

      Tomorrow she was going to take a different route.

      There was no way she was going to risk bumping into him again.

      No way.

Four

      He didn’t have a great day. He had a frustrating, long and tiring day during which Molly kept popping up in his thoughts. He wondered where she went after she’d run in the park. He wondered who her friends were and what sort of life she led. He had a million questions about her, and very few answers.

      Most of all he wondered what he’d said to make her run off.

      He’d enjoyed the snap and spark of the conversation, the flirtation. It was the verbal equivalent of waterskiing— speeding and bouncing over the surface, but never delving into the deeper, murky waters below. It suited him fine, because he had no interest in going deeper.

      He guessed she was the same.

      He knew from the look on her face that she had issues. He’d seen that same look across his desk more times than he could count and he recognized the shadows of hurt. It didn’t worry him. He’d never met a human being over the age of twenty who didn’t have some issues. That was what being alive did for you. If you engaged in life, eventually you’d have scars to show for it.

      He wondered who was responsible for Molly’s scars.

      It was that urge to know more that drew him back to the park the next morning, with Brutus tugging at his lead. It didn’t occur to him that she might not show up. For a start she had to walk Valentine, and something told him she wasn’t going to change her habits in order to avoid him, so he took the usual path, Brutus by his side.

      Without Valentine to keep him in line there was a strong chance the dog wasn’t going to come back, so he kept him on the lead. He’d even yelled “Ruffles” once to see if that made a difference but all that had done was confirm what Daniel already suspected, that the dog didn’t have a problem recognizing his name. He had a problem recognizing authority.

      As someone who had grown up challenging and questioning, Daniel empathized.

      He was hauling the dog’s nose out of a muddy puddle when Valentine appeared.

      There was no sign of Molly.

      “Where is she?” Daniel stooped to pat the Dalmatian. He was no expert, but even he could see that Valentine was a beautiful dog. And that heart-shaped nose was pretty cute. “Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. I need a heart-shaped nose to win her over.”

      He was wondering whether he should hold on to the dog or let him go, when Molly appeared, out of breath and annoyed.

      “Valentine!” She reached them and frowned at the dog. “What did you think you were doing?”

      Valentine wagged his tail hard.

      It seemed to Daniel that whatever the dog had thought he was doing, he’d done it.

      He guessed Molly hadn’t intended to walk this way today, but what the hell. She was here. That was all that mattered.

      Today she was wearing a pair of running leggings that clung to her body in a swirl of purple and black. Her sleek dark ponytail curved like a question mark over her back.

      Daniel unclipped Brutus’s lead and he sprinted off with Valentine. “Whenever I let him off the lead, I worry that might be the last I see of him. I only let him off when Valentine is here.”

      “Valentine never usually runs off.” She frowned after the dog. “I don’t understand it.”

      “I guess he wanted to play with his best friend. Look how happy they are.” He gambled on the fact that seeing her dog so content would stop her leaving and judging from her smile, he was right. She’d decided to forgive the dog for his transgression. “So how do you persuade a dog to come back when you call?”

      “Training.”

      “And if that doesn’t work?”

      “Then you’re in trouble.”

      He loved the way her eyes lit up. He loved the tiny dimple that flickered at the corner of her mouth. He loved the way her hair whipped across her back when she ran. He loved the way she ran like she owned the park. He loved the way she loved her dog—

       He was definitely in trouble.

      “Are you in the mood for an Earl Grey tea? Say the word.” He couldn’t believe he was suggesting tea when what he really wanted was champagne, moonlight and her naked.

      “What’s the word? Please?”

      “Fetch.”

      The smile turned into a laugh. “You ‘fetched’ last time. It’s my turn.”

      He liked the way that sounded, as if this was something regular that was going to happen again. “But then I’d have to watch the dogs, and you’re the responsible adult.”

      “You’re not responsible?”

      He looked at her mouth. “I’ve been known to be irresponsible once in a while.”

      * * *

      Molly СКАЧАТЬ