Love in the City
An erotic romance novel
by Heather Hall
Love in the City
She thought she met the man of her dreams, but is he too good to be true?
Giorgio Tsarkopolis is the sexy, drop-dead gorgeous CEO of his family’s Fortune 500 company. A chance encounter with Anabelle Parker is the catalyst to a flirtatious cat and mouse game between them. On the surface, he is her dream man and more. However, shady rumors surround his business, women throw themselves at him, and she fears he isn’t telling her everything.
Giorgio appears to only have eyes for Anabelle, but she can’t believe a young, wealthy, incredibly handsome and successful businessman like him could hold more than a passing interest in her, an average girl. She tries not to be another notch on his bedpost, but that’s getting harder with each passing day. Anabelle tries to temper the flames of passion, but they only grow hotter. Is she in over her head and will he break her heart for good?
The Love series (HEA):
Slow-burn erotic romance novels that are equal parts sweet & sexy, with a hint of suspense!
Upcoming titles include:
Love in Camouflage
Love & Temptation
Love in Overdrive
…and many more!
DISCLAIMER:
This book is intended for mature readers 18+, and is not suitable for younger readers due to adult and sexual situations.
This book is a work of fiction. Name, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination (excluding references to actual historical figures and events) or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LOVE IN THE CITY. Copyright © 2013 by Heather Hall. All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address: [email protected]
ASIN: B00EW6QX0E
FIRST EDITION - Published by Eros Romance Publications, September 2013
Hall, H.
Love in the City: a novel/Heather Hall
To contact Heather Hall:
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HHallRomance
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/23514384-heather-hall
Editing by Andrea Anesi: http://www.anesiindexing.com/
DEDICATION
For my fellow hopeless romantics…
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to my soul mate, you always know how to inspire and support me through all of the wild times we share. Thanks very much to my editor, Andrea Anesi for helping me to polish this book.
“All a girl really wants is for one guy to prove to her that they are not all the same.”
― Marilyn Monroe
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
“Dammit!” Anabelle said as she spilled her coffee on her light floral blouse. She hadn’t seen the crack in the sidewalk as she was juggling her bags and coffee cup, trying to keep up with the foot traffic. “Just great. I hate Mondays,” she mumbled to herself as people hurried past her on their way to work on this bright, sunny day. She silently scolded herself for trying to cram a last-minute errand in before work. She carried on as she reached into her bag to pull out a napkin. She tried to wipe the coffee off, but only succeeded in rubbing it in further. Not looking up from tending to the stain, she bumped into a man, hard.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed, but then realized she had spilled more coffee, this time on him. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.” Automatically she reached out with her napkin, already half-stained with coffee to wipe the coffee off of his suit sleeve.
The man intercepted her hand.
She looked up, expecting to see a disapproving frown and to be chastised for not watching where she was going by a busy, impatient New Yorker. Instead she saw a warm smile. He took his reflective aviator sunglasses off to reveal piercing blue eyes, which were framed by thick lashes. His dark, wavy hair had what looked like an undone, messy look, but purposely-styled. She inhaled sharply. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Her mind went blank.
“I tried to dodge you,” he said, “but you were kind of careening down the sidewalk.” His deep, rich voice was kind, and he had a trace of humor in his expression.
Anabelle was momentarily stunned as she took in the face of the man who held her hand. He had to be over six feet tall with broad shoulders and an exotic-looking complexion. He had high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. His teeth were white and straight and he had luscious full lips. He was sexy as hell.
“Are you okay?” he asked, still holding her hand gently.
She realized she was just standing there staring at him wide-eyed. She turned several shades of red. “Yes, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I-I should get going.” She was even more embarrassed now that she was so flustered. He was going to think she was an idiot. She had to go before she embarrassed herself even further. She went to pull her hand away and instead dropped the coffee cup on the sidewalk. The lid popped off and the coffee spilt all over his shoes and hers.
“Okay,” he said, laughing and taking a step back. “I’m getting a coffee bath this morning.”
“Oh no, I am so sorry…again.” She thought she would die on the spot. She fumbled through her bag to find more napkins. She always carried a pile of them for spills. Kind of like moms do, but she didn’t have kids. She hoped one day she would, but her prospects hadn’t looked too promising.
He laughed again. “Really,” he said, his voice deep and gentle, “it’s fine. I can clean up at my office. That’s better than here on the street.”
Passersby dressed in expensive suits glanced at them, snickering at the sight of the coffee fiasco.
Anabelle was dying of embarrassment. She already felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb working in Manhattan. But she had been determined to find a career there. It was her dream. But here she was causing a scene. Maybe she’d never fit in, she thought. “Okay, again, I am so…”
He cut her off, “No more apologies. It was a simple accident.” He grinned at her, the amusement sparkling in his intensely blue eyes. “Listen, my office is right in there,” he said as he pointed to the gleaming skyscraper they stood in front of.
“Giorgio, morning!” a young man called out as he waved. The man glanced at Anabelle, then down at their shoes. She saw him try to hide the grin on his face as he turned his head and walked into the shiny building.
Giorgio? she thought. Man, even his name is sexy. Her heart was beating fast in h
er chest.
“Morning, Bernard,” he said. “See you upstairs.”
Anabelle bent down to pick up her coffee cup and lid from the sidewalk. At least getting rid of the evidence would make this less of a spectacle. She tucked her shoulder-length straight auburn hair behind her ears.
Giorgio quickly bent down to help her, taking note of the hint of ample cleavage that showed through the V-neck of her floral blouse as she leaned over and her shapely legs and hips as her skirt sneaked up a little higher. He looked back at her chest. “You, um, have a spot there,” he said, pointing at her blouse.
She looked down. The big, brown stain was plainly evident on her blouse, right where her nipple would be. Dear God, she thought, can this get any more embarrassing?
“Yes,” she said, “I got myself before I got you.” She went to try and brush the stain off some more, when it dawned on her that she was rubbing her breast in front of a total stranger. Then she also realized how revealing her blouse was at this angle. She stopped suddenly, feeling terribly self-conscious.
“I’d offer to help you with that, but I think maybe it’s something you should do,” he said, grinning at her.
She gave a nervous giggle and turned even redder.
“I am a gentleman,” he said as he grabbed the coffee cup and lid before she could, as she was trying to balance her big purse and work bag. “Allow me,” he said. He put them in one hand, which she noticed were big and masculine looking, but well manicured, then held out his other hand to help her up.
“Um, thank you,” she said. She took it, and he helped her stand up. His hand was warm and strong.
“It’s my pleasure to aid a damsel in distress,” he said, then tossed the items into a nearby wastebasket.
She then noticed his dark grey suit. It looked expensive and finely tailored. Boy, did she know how to make an impression.
“Does Coffee Haven make a good brew?” he asked.
“Uh, yes, the best I’ve found around here,” Anabelle replied as she straightened her skirt and blouse out. She was bummed she wouldn’t get her cup of coffee this morning. She didn’t have time to go back, she was already going to be late for work. She had also lost the five dollars that coffee had cost her. Nothing in Manhattan was cheap.
“We have some good coffee up in my office,” he said, “why don’t I replace what you lost?”
She looked up at the building. “Where do you work?”
He pointed at the name over top of the grand entranceway.
Holy crap, she thought as she read the sign. “Tsar Enterprises?”
“Giorgio Tsarkopolis at your service,” he said, giving her a playful half bow.
A wave of intimidation washed over her as she connected the dots. That was his family’s company. She realized he was likely one of the wealthiest men in Manhattan. She found herself backing up. She was even more self-conscious now of her modest clothing, shoes and bags, none of it was designer. Then she took note of all the people heading into that building. All dressed to the nines and then some. She felt very out of place. “Oh no, I couldn’t,” she said, realizing the world he came from.
“I don’t bite, I promise,” he said, grinning at her. He held out his hand.
She looked at it, so inviting. She bit her lip. “I-uh, I’d love to, but I really need to get going. I’m going to be late for work.” She was completely flustered as she brushed her flyaway hair out of her face.
His face showed disappointment. “Perhaps another time,” he said, nodding. “Call me here if you’d like to come by for that replacement coffee. I’m easy to find.”
“Sure,” she said, gazing into his blue eyes, which felt like they were immobilizing her. Wow, she thought, I could get lost in those. “Another time.” She broke her gaze and straightened her bags on her shoulders. “Bye.” She turned around to leave.
He took note of a shapely bottom and smiled. He was instantly charmed by her slightly awkward, but adorable mannerisms. “What’s your name?” he called after her.
She turned back, taking in all six plus feet of him, standing there with confidence. She blushed again. “Anabelle.” She turned and left. Walking away slowly. She didn’t want to, but she felt compelled to.
“Pretty name,” he whispered. “Pretty girl.”
She turned back around. He still stood there watching her, admiring her curvy figure. He waved. “See you again, Anabelle.”
She smiled and waved, feeling shy and out of place. “Bye.” She kept walking, a huge grin spreading across her face. Her temperature had spiked and she felt an electric buzz going through her. What an Adonis, she thought. Then she mentally kicked herself. Only in my dreams…
Unbeknownst to her, he kept watching her until she crossed over a couple of blocks, and then disappeared out of his sight.
Chapter 2
After work, Anabelle met her best friend Sarah at their favorite lounge, Painter’s Cove in Brooklyn. It was a cozy little place with live music and murals all over the walls, which were painted by local artists. Anabelle loved the place. It was their neighborhood haunt. The drinks weren’t too expensive and the people were friendly and welcoming.
Not like the places in Manhattan, where they felt the heat of condescending, disapproving looks for not being up to snuff. The two 28-year old friends had tried it once, but had felt very uncomfortable with the rest of the patrons. The women looked like they came straight of the fashion magazines they were so done up and wearing expensive designer clothes and shoes. They were also stick thin, unlike Anabelle’s and Sarah’s curvier forms. The girls also got sticker shock once the bill came. It was $17 plus tip for each of their glasses of wine. Way out of their budgets. Since then, they had stuck closer to home, where they fit in and didn’t have to worry about being judged for their modest wardrobes and decidedly non-model like few extra pounds here and there.
“Hey girls,” the bartender waved, “good to see you! The usual?”
“You betcha, Barry,” Anabelle said.
Barry was the 31-year old owner of Painter’s Cove. He was an artist and guitar player, too, but since it was hard to make a living as either one, he did the next best thing. He opened a place where artists and musicians could come hang out, leave their mark on his walls and talk about their craft amongst friends. It was a home away from home for the people who went there, and for Barry, it was his actual home. He lived by himself in the loft above the lounge.
Sarah and Anabelle grabbed one of their favorite tables, which was against the wall and half way between the bar and the small stage.
“So,” Sarah said as they sat down, “did you ask boss lady about a promotion or getting paid for your overtime yet?” She flipped her long, partially braided sandy blonde hair over her shoulder. She had pale, slightly freckled skin and a hippie vibe in how she dressed and kept her hair.
Anabelle shook her head. “No, Raquel was in an extra bad mood today. I didn’t dare.”
“You’ve got to speak up for yourself, you know,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “She’s never going to respect you unless you do. Especially in the advertising world, you need to sell yourself. Just like any other product you guys market.”
“I’m not very good at that. It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t think she’s ever going to respect me anyway, I can tell she doesn’t really like me,” Anabelle said.
“Don’t say that, she only needs to realize what a valuable asset you are. You just need to prove yourself.”
Barry came over carrying a tray with their wine. “Here we go, ladies.” He set the glasses down, his thick, chestnut brown ponytail falling over his shoulder as he did.
“Thanks, Barry,” Sarah said, taking her glass. “Just what we need after a busy day.
“Yes, thanks,” Anabelle said.
He smiled at them, then glanced back at Sarah for just a moment. His brown eyes warm with affection. He quickly looked away. “Allow me,” he said as he struck a match and lit the glass-encased candle on their table. �
��A little firelight for you.”
“Lovely,” Sarah said.
Barry looked at her and blushed. He nodded. “Your appetizers will be right up.”
Anabelle and Sarah always ordered the same thing. Hummus and pita and edamame beans to start. Then they shared a plate of fettuccine Alfredo. They were both trying to lose a few pesky pounds, so they had started ordering healthier appetizers, but couldn’t yet let go of their favorite pasta dish. So they opted to share it instead.
“You know,” Anabelle said, leaning forward and lowering her voice, “I think Barry likes you.”
Sarah looked up in surprise. “Don’t be silly. He’s just being friendly. He’s nice to everyone here.” She took a sip of wine.
“But there’s something else when he looks at you,” Anabelle said, “I can tell.”
Sarah shook her head. “You’re imagining things.” She glanced over at the bar. Barry quickly looked away when she caught him looking at her.
“See? I told you,” Anabelle smiled. “He’s cute, you know, you should talk to him sometime…alone. I’d bet he’d love that.”
Sarah looked over at the bar again. Barry smiled at her. She smiled back. “He does have a nice smile, and I do love that long hair of his,” she said, looking back at Anabelle. “Kind of makes me want to run my fingers through it.” Her cheeks reddened and she took a deep breath. “I don’t know…maybe. Anyway, enough about me. What about you?” Sarah asked.
“What about me?”
“Anyone interesting in the picture?”
“I wish,” Anabelle said, then sipped her wine. “But I did have an encounter earlier today. Closest thing I’ve had to a date in a while.”
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