JC Harroway
The romantic vs. the cynic
Chemistry is all they have in common!
New York lawyer Ash has moved to London to escape his demons—and one red-hot night with gorgeous stranger Essie is the perfect distraction! He’s ready to forget about her entirely...until she walks into his office for her first day at work. She’s a romantic, seeking her happily-ever-after—he’s a distrustful cynic who can’t commit... Could a sexy fling be the best mistake of their lives?
“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”
—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author
To E
for inspiring the fun, bubbly, caring Essie. x
IF THIS SETTING, so far from the wreckage he’d left behind in New York, couldn’t provide ballast, nowhere could. Ash Jacob closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath and focussed on the sun warming his back, the hypnotic chatter of English birdsong and the continuous distant hum of London traffic.
‘Shit!’
The violent exclamation pulled him up short. So he wasn’t the only one having a bad day. His vision hazed as the bright July sunlight hit his retinas once more, his surroundings sharpening into focus. He stretched one arm along the back of the park bench, the wooden slats of which dug into his fatigued muscles—a reminder that he’d spent twelve hours on a plane yesterday, largely bent like a pretzel despite his first-class seat.
‘Bloody, buggering, shit.’
What a charming turn of phrase.
His mouth twitched and his mood lightened. She stood a short distance away from his secluded spot in St James’s Park, her short, flowery dress revealing bare, shapely legs; golden hair streaked with enough russet to turn her long ponytail to fire in the right light; a small denim backpack slung over one shoulder, which made her appear younger than what he estimated as mid-twenties.
A student? A tourist? A fellow soul, far from home?
One delicate finger jabbed at the screen of her phone, as if she could poke it back to life by dogged persistence alone.
Intrigue and a flicker of lust made Ash sit up straighter. Her quirky English accent and endearing choice of expletives reminded him that New York was a long way away. And yes, the women in his exclusive, affluent circle had the kind of polish and poise that this beguiling stranger seemed, at first glance, to lack, but the effect of the jut of her pert breasts and the cut of her fine-boned features in profile on his jet-lagged libido equalled, if not surpassed, his usual level of interest in the opposite sex. An interest that circumstances had shaped into two simple rules: one—on his terms; and two—one night only.
He shifted on the hard seat, his jeans becoming skintight, at least around the groin. The beauty dropped the hand holding the offending device to her side and cast her wide eyes around their corner of the park.
Ash slammed his own stare closed again, pretending to enjoy the formerly relaxing ambience. He’d come to London to work on a joint business venture with his oldest friend, not to rescue an English damsel, no matter how long her legs or how curvaceous her ass. And more importantly, he’d come to get away from public drama and get his life back under control. Control that couldn’t come soon enough.
‘Um, excuse me...’
Damn.
She’d moved that delectable derrière of hers closer. There were few people around, mainly joggers and the odd parent pushing a stroller. She must be talking to him. Ash relaxed his eyelids and slowed his breathing. Perhaps if she thought he was asleep, she’d leave him alone. Find someone else to rectify her technology issues.
Her footfalls scuffed the gravel of the path.
There was an embarrassed tinkle of laughter.
Right