by Ally Blake
“Evie,” said Armand as she looked up into his eyes, “I should have told you the moment I realised what Jonathon had done.”
“You should. But you thought you were protecting me, which is a nice thing to think. Next time know that including me is nicer still.”
“Next time?”
“Yes, please.”
He kissed her again, on the tip of the nose. On the edge of her eye. On her mouth. Marking his place.
“I truly wanted to kill Jonathon for putting us through all that. Yet at the same time I feel like I should hug him for putting us through all that.”
Armand smiled against her mouth before sealing it with a long, knee-melting kiss. “An urge I have had to subdue more times than you can count. The killing part, not the hugging.”
“I can count pretty high.”
“And yet...”
Evie shivered at the rough note in Armand’s voice. To stave off more shivers, she found the edges of the blanket and wrapped them around him too.
“Now,” he said, “I have a question for you.”
“Bring it on.”
“Did you come here because you finally realised dairy farming was your life’s dream?”
Evie laughed. “I did not.”
“Excellent. And what about working for Jonathon? I know he is putting together an extremely generous proposal in the hopes of luring you back.”
“Been there,” she said. “Done that.”
“I’m glad, because the conversation we had about following curiosity stuck. And I have an idea that I hope piques yours.”
“I’m finally going to be a bus driver? No ballerina firefighter!”
“If that is your dream then I support it wholeheartedly. If you are teasing me, then I have a generous offer of my own.”
“I’m teasing you. Offer away.”
“How would you feel about working for me?”
“For you, or with you?”
Armand’s smile was quick and bright and glorious. And gave nothing away. “I’m setting up an Australian office.”
“Of your company? The Action Adventure All-Stars? You’re getting the band back together!”
“In a way. Only this time I would like to be proactive rather than reactive.”
“Okay.”
“Much of the planning happened on my trip up here on the train, so the details are sketchy at best. But how would you feel about helping me design safety apps for commuters travelling at night? For starters. Apps for travellers; how to be aware, safety conscious. Self-defence class apps. The sky is the limit. You could have your own team, hand-picked, with the side benefit of doing work that makes the world a better place. What do you think?”
Evie wondered if it was possible to smile from the bottoms of your feet to the top of your head, because that was what it felt like. “I think you only kissed me to soften me up to get me to work for you.” She also thought he was wonderful. “If so you’re sneakier than Jonathon ever was.”
When Armand’s brows lowered and his smile took on a predatory gleam the feeling rushing about in her body was far more fun than a mere smile.
“I didn’t come all this way to offer you a job. I came all this way to offer you a life. My life. With all that that means. I know I am flawed, and stubborn, and struggle to ask for help.”
“You are also generous. Astute. Forgiving. Loyal. Steadfast. And devastatingly handsome.”
He pulled her closer and her entire body sighed. “Taking all that into account, I hope that you can take me as I am.”
“I’ll take you any way I can get you.” Evie lifted a hand to swipe the hair from Armand’s eyes.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that.” He breathed in, his eyes travelling slowly over her face as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “That moment—when I thought you were about to leap onto the train tracks—my life literally flashed before my eyes. A life in which you were no more. Every horror I had witnessed in my life coalesced into a ball of lead inside me and I could not get the image out of my head.”
Oh, Armand.
He went on. “After you left—no, after I pushed you away—I had every intention of going back to Paris, deliberately choosing the fugue in which I had been existing, as it seemed a lesser evil than a life without you. Until I realised the thing I had feared most had—in its own way—happened anyway. You would be gone to me. I would never see you again. And it was my fault.”
Evie opened her mouth to contradict him, to admit to her own part in the whole mess, but he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers and her words dried up in her mouth.
“I love you, Evie. And the thought of life without you is no life at all. I want you with all the risk and joy you bring. And I came here hoping to convince you to give me a second chance.”
Evie could barely breathe. Her heart was full, her mind reeling, her blood singing in her veins because of this big, strong man with his grand, poetic heart.
Evie smiled, then grinned, then laughed. Rubbing her forehead against his, she said, “Armand, I’ve been a little bit in love with you since you were no more to me than my train boyfriend, Hot Stuff in the Swanky Suit. Now that I know you, the real you, flesh and blood and heart and soul, I love you with everything I have.”
She felt Armand’s body shift as if with shock.
He lifted away, to look into her eyes, his own swirling with emotion. Before they narrowed. “I thought I was Reading Guy.”
“That’s right. You were Reading Guy. Why am I telling all this to you?”
She made to pull away before he wrapped her up tight.
His mouth kicked up at one side. He had a hell of a smile when he let it loose. “I can go one better, ma chérie. I have loved you longer still. Since before we even met.”
“Oh, really?”
“Picture the darkest, roughest, farthest reaches of the planet. My spent body protesting every movement, my exhausted mind struggling to form coherent thought, I looked up one night to find the sky awash with more stars than I had ever seen before. And in that darkness, not knowing if any of us would survive the night, I prayed that somewhere in the world a woman had looked to those same stars. A woman whose joy and determination, quirks and kindness and light could fill the very edges of the darkness.”
Evie didn’t even know she was crying until Armand brushed the pad of a thumb over her cheek.
This time she kissed him, sinking against the long, strong lines of his body as she loved him with all her heart.
“You are my girl in the stars, Evie. My counterpoint. My way out of the dark. The Girl with the Perfect Aim who got me right through the heart. This is the day my life truly begins. No games. No rules. And I want to spend every day of that life with you.”
Evie didn’t have to think, overthink, or think twice. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
“That’s a yes?”
“Yes!”
Grinning, indulgently, Armand squeezed her tighter still, lifting her feet off the ground. Then he spun her about until she laughed so hard she could scarcely catch her breath, the sound carrying off into the sharp, wintry sky.
“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.
Evie nodded. “Let’s go home.”
EPILOGUE
EVIE SAT ON the train heading into the city, giving into the rock and roll of the carriage.
It had been three months since that day at the farm, when Armand had literally swept her off her feet. It had been a whirlwind since.
She’d gone back to Zoe’s, packed her things and spent a week of sleepovers there to unravel their living arrangements and to say goodbye to their single-girl days together.
Then she’d moved her one bag of stuff to Armand’s—leaving the futon behind.
Together they’d gone to see Jonath
on. She’d thanked him properly for the opportunity and told him she had found a position more suited to her skills. A bittersweet moment, to be sure.
Though watching Armand demand free space in Jonathon’s building for the Australian offices of the Action Adventure All-Stars—not their real name—had been far more fun. He was a keen negotiator—all spit and fire while cool as ice. She banked it for future alone time.
Armand could afford to buy his own building, but the demand was down to his innate sense of justice. And Jonathon had acquiesced, appearing honestly chagrined at the part he’d played in deceiving them both.
Emphasis on the “appearing”, as when they’d left the office Evie had looked back to see him puffing out his chest and looking well pleased with himself. Jonathon was a manipulative bastard, but thankfully he was their manipulative bastard.
And now she really did have the best job ever—heading up the cyber-security division of Armand’s company. She had staff—and what do you know, it was really easy to find plenty of super-smart, super-talented, IT-savvy women to work for her. Once Armand had met Lance—who’d just left his position in the army—he’d offered him a job on the spot too.
“Do you have enough room?” Armand asked, shifting to give her more space.
Evie ate up the inches, snuggling closer. She sneaked her hand into the crook of Armand’s arm and leant her head on his shoulder. Her eyes slid over the frazzled mother, the schoolboys with their huge bags and glazed eyes, the suits and the yoga queens and the grinders and the hipsters. All of them on a mission to live their best lives—all dealing as best they could with the hiccups and detours and falls and successes along the way.
Evie smiled at them all, each and every one of them helping to make this city of hers the vibrant melting pot of possibility that it was.
“Look.”
At the rumble of Armand’s voice Evie turned to look at him. The storm in his eyes had cleared, making way for acres of blue. A glint shone within as he took her by the chin and turned her head away. “Over there.”
Another couple sat a couple of rows down, all snuggled up too. A young man with short blond hair and Harry Potter glasses was reading from a small hardcover book to a girl with tufts of short dark hair poking out at the bottom of a navy beanie covered in little gold stars, and a big, soppy smile on her face.
Evie wondered about the knitting pattern. Machine-made, perhaps? Those stars would be seriously challenging to...
She sat bolt upright.
Then let go of Armand to grab her phone. She frantically found the app she was looking for and scrolled back weeks, months, till she found the right page. Then she stuck it under Armand’s nose, listening with half an ear as he read:
New to your orbit, I find myself struck
By your raven locks, your starlit eyes. What luck
That I find myself able to see you twice a day.
A beacon in a sea of strangers. I must say
Your sunshine smiles are my good morning.
Your evening sighs my goodnight.
If I had the courage I’d say hello.
Till then I remain alone in my delight.
“Well, what do you know?” said Armand.
Not much, thought Evie, clearly.
“Funny,” he said, giving her a sideways glance as he handed back her phone. “One could think it was written about you.”
Evie merely smiled and gave him a quick kiss.
He’d found the fortune cookie message scrunched up in her wallet when he’d gone looking for coins and he’d listened with impressive patience while she’d talked him through the story that went along with it.
They’d get to the poem in good time. But not yet. Armand had taught her that a little mystery could go a long way.
How funny though, she thought, all the external forces that had worked to get them together. The dodgy fortune, someone else’s poem and an unlikely fairy godfather in the shape of Jonathon Montrose.
But the truth was they had found one another on the train before any of that had even come to pass. Harbouring quiet fascinations for one another while at points in their lives where the idea of love at first sight was too momentous a leap to believe in.
“Would you like me to read to you?” he asked.
“Depends what you are reading, Reading Guy,” Evie said, knowing he could read the back of a cereal box and that voice of his would make her knees quiver.
He pulled out the book he’d tucked inside his coat—Cyrano de Bergerac.
“In French?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said, taken aback that she would suggest otherwise.
“I thought you read fiction to keep your language skills up to scratch.”
“I read fiction because it exists.”
“Armand Debussey, you’re a romantic.”
“That is like telling me I am French,” he said, with not a lick of irony.
Evie realised she’d only scratched the surface of this man. That his code went deep. And, while she had the feeling he could be the one project she might never fully crack, that was okay with her.
She’d have a wonderful time trying.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Ally Blake
Amber and the Rogue Prince
Rescuing the Royal Runaway Bride
Millionaire Dad’s SOS
Dating the Rebel Tycoon
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Second Chance with the Single Dad by Kandy Shepherd.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romance.
You adore a feel-good story! Harlequin Romance offers uplifting escapes featuring real, relatable women and strong, deeply desirable men. Experience the intensity, anticipation and sheer rush of falling in love.
Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Romance every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice
OR
EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.
Click here to join for FREE
Or visit us online to register at
www.HarlequinMyRewards.com
Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.
Second Chance with the Single Dad
by Kandy Shepherd
CHAPTER ONE
WIL HUDSON WAS a handsome, handsome man. Georgia Lang had recognised his exceptional good looks from day one of their friendship. What red-blooded female wouldn’t? But she had never allowed herself to acknowledge even a flutter of attraction to him.
It was way safer to be ‘just friends’ with a man who attracted women as effortlessly as gorgeous Wil did—and discarded them as readily. Especially when she was just an ordinary girl, attractive enough, but hardly a winner in the head-turning stakes. Nothing like the women Wil dated. Girl next door was the way people described her. On self-doubting days, she wondered if that was shorthand for distinctly unexciting. Most of the time she embraced the label as a good fit.
As Wil’s girl next door pal, his buddy, his good mate
from university days, she’d watched as his glamorous girlfriends came and went while their friendship endured. To be sure, it had ebbed and flowed. They’d always seen more of each other when they’d been between relationships; there had been moments when she’d wondered if they could be more than friends. But, fearing rejection, she hadn’t dared suggest it; he hadn’t either, and they’d each dived back into the dating pool.
But all that had been before Wil’s whirlwind marriage. After he’d wed, none of their group of friends had seen much of him. They’d seen him even less after his wife had left him. Georgia hadn’t seen him at all. He’d ghosted her—just stopped all contact without explanation. Not a call, not a text, not even a ‘like’ on social media. She’d seen him interviewed on television, he’d become a reluctant go-to spokesperson for the young generation of millionaires. But he might as well have been a ghost for all the personal contact she’d had with him.
Now, just days into the new year, he stood at the doorstep of the North Sydney apartment she shared with two other schoolteachers. She was so taken aback to find him there she had to clutch at the door frame for support. Wil. Her heart started a furious beating. How she’d missed him.
Incredulous delight flooded through her at seeing the friend she’d painfully accepted was no longer part of her life. She started to blurt out her pleasure at his unexpected appearance, wish him the happiest of new years. To tell him she was moving house and he was just in time to help her lift some heavy boxes of books and she’d reward him with the cookies she knew were his favourite. But she held herself back. This Wil wasn’t her best friend. She hadn’t deserved how he’d treated her. This Wil seemed like a stranger.
If it had been any other guy she might have shrieked about what a wreck she looked, in shorts and a past-its-use-by-date vest top, no make-up, hair rioting every which way from the January summer humidity. But she’d never worried about her appearance with Wil; she doubted he’d ever noticed what she’d worn.