by Diana Nixon
Hate at First Sight
By Diana Nixon
Hate at First Sight
(Summary)
Every day of Megan’s life was carefully planned. Freedom and independence had been her best friends for years. Until one day she met Aiden, whose priorities were so much like hers….
What happens when attraction wins?
What happens when poles apart become equal?
What happens when the flames of passion burn everything in their way?
Is there still a chance to resist the power of magnetism?
The walls of inaccessibility will come crashing down. Everything she thought was unacceptable he will turn into pure pleasure….
Dive into the world of Hate at First Sight to see if hate can become something completely different….
Print edition details
ISBN-13: 978-1492347767
ISBN-10: 1492347760
Copyright © 2013 by Diana Nixon
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover design by Amina Black
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
Acknowledgments
About the author
Chapter 1
Megan
Home, sweet home….
Yeah, this is going to be a long week, I thought to myself, opening the door to my parents’ house. I haven’t been there for five years, and if it wasn’t for my brother’s wedding, I doubt I would go there any time soon.
Last time I was in Axbridge, in the South West of England, I was graduating from school, dreaming about my fairy-tale future, and I was crazy in love with one of my classmates. Well, thank God, my life today wasn’t that pathetic. I was a student at the London School of Economics, and I definitely wasn’t in love with anyone.
I didn’t have time for boyfriends, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let any of those assholes that my friends usually dated ruin my life. I hated weddings and everything that reminded me of how easily falling in love could destroy everything that I ever dreamed of.
I knew most people didn’t share my point of view. Including my family, who was sure that since I was in my early twenties, I needed to think about a husband and kids.
That’s why I didn’t want to come to Owen’s wedding. I knew the members of my family would do their best to drive me up the wall, questioning me non-stop about my personal life, or to be exact — about the absence of such. But I loved my brother too much to upset him on such an important day of his life.
So here I am, standing in the foyer, with a suitcase in each hand; our dog licking my chamois shoes.
Great … apparently no one in this house expected to see me so soon.
“Mom? Dad? Anybody home?” I put my suitcases aside and patted Ginger, our old Rottweiler. Who on earth came up with such a stupid name for her? I had no idea. The dog’s fur was black, and I was sure that the existence of a few light-brown spots on her body wasn’t enough to call her Ginger. Obviously, some members of my family had a sick sense of humor.
“Does anyone want to give me a hug?” I looked into the dining room and the kitchen, but no one was there.
“I would gladly hug you, Sweetheart,” the voice behind me said.
I turned around, frowning. “Oh, really? Well, too bad I don’t hug strangers.” I crossed my arms, giving the guy one of the most evil glances I was capable of.
He smirked at my expression, and leaned leisurely against the door frame. “You must be Megan? The famous, runaway sister.”
Well, yeah. And who the hell are you, smart-ass?
“I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name,” I said aloud. I wasn’t usually aggressive with strangers, but whoever I was talking to, was trying my patience.
“My mistake,” the guy said, outstretching his hand. “Aiden Murphy.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, ignoring the hand. “So, Mr. Murphy, would you be so kind as to explain your presence here? I don’t think I’ve missed my parents adopting a child or anything like that.”
The corners of my companion’s lips twisted sarcastically. “I’m sure you would have never missed such a big thing,” he said, devils dancing in his eyes. The guy was obviously enjoying the moment. “And I’m really happy not to be related to you, Megan.”
I raised my eyebrows, rather surprised. How was I supposed to react to his rudeness?
“Being a brother of such a charming creature would be a waste of my time.”
You have a lot of nerve, I thought, staring at him.
Aiden took a few steps closer, and stopped right in front of me. “And yes, these lips are too delicious for brother’s kisses,” he added in a murmur, his eyes flashed playfully.
I was sure my cheeks turned red, and I desperately wanted to slap the jerk in the face, but I was too shocked to move. Finally I turned on my heels and stormed out of the room, not bothering to find out who the guy really was, and what he was doing in my house. The echo of his laughter followed me to what used to be my old room. I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me, hoping it was loud enough to reflect just how angry I was. The poor man had no idea how furious I could be when someone pissed me off. Not that I turned into a serial killer, but I knew how to put people in their place.
He’d better stay out of my way.
And so my first day home began. I waited for about half an hour to go back downstairs and took my baggage. Thank God, Mr. Devil-may-care Handsome was nowhere around. Did I just call him handsome? Well, yes, I wasn’t blind after all. Aiden was tall and well-built, with a voice to die for, and a smile that promised a lot; he was dark-haired, and had the most incredible gray-blue eyes I had ever seen. He could be a perfect picture for a magazine’s cover, and I was sure he knew that too. Like most men of his kind. I wasn’t a feminist, but I hated guys like Aiden: damn sexy, arrogant and too self-confident. They always got what they wanted, and the list of women visiting their beds was longer than Oxford Street.
When I returned to my room, I unpacked my stuff, took a shower, and was just about to get dressed when the door flew open, and my mother’s warm arms locked around me.
“My, girl! I missed you so much!” she said excitedly, kissing every inch of my face.
“Yeah, I missed you too,” I said less enthusiastically, trying to escape from her grasp.
“How was your flight? I told your father to meet you at the airport, but he and Owen went to the church to talk to the priest about the wedding ceremony.”
“No worries. The taxi took me right to the front door,” I said, rubbing mother’s lipstick off my face. Unfortunatel
y, I couldn’t do the same with her stomach-turning perfume that I was sure was all over me now. Ugh, I needed another shower.
“Oh, Dear! I’m so glad you are here!” Mom said, hugging me again. “We will have so much fun!”
“No doubt,” I muttered.
“The entertainments will start on Wednesday, so you will have a few days to yourself. Go to the hairdresser, do your nails, walk along the beach and forget about Economics at least for a while. It’s the middle of May, so go out! Girls your age spend their time dating and enjoying life!”
Oh, no! I groaned mentally. Not that again! “Mom, please don’t start. I’m not like most of the girls my age, and you know it. I have other priorities.”
“Like what? Wasting your time on numbers and dusty books?”
“I want to become a financial expert! And I will be one. And until then, yes, numbers and dusty books will be my only dates.”
“God, help me! My only daughter is going to leave me without grandchildren.”
For crying out loud! “Of course, not! I will have children. But not now. I’m twenty-two years old! I have a whole life to gift you with grandchildren, mother. I’m not your only child, and I’m sure that Owen and Mary are planning on having kids too.”
“Who knows how long I will have to wait for your brother to think about having kids? Do you know how much he works? I don’t know how he managed to make the proposal. He and Mary haven’t seen each other for months!”
“She lives, God only knows, how far away from here! And you know her parents. They would have never let her live with Owen before the wedding. Her mother almost had a heart attack when she found out that I was moving to London right after graduating from high school. As if I were going to become a stripper, or worse.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, I don’t want to judge anyone. All I’m saying is that I’m worried about you and your brother. I want to see you both happy!”
“I am happy, Mom. Happier than you think.”
“Does it mean that you are seeing someone?”
“Dating is not the only thing that makes girls happy.”
“At your age, Dear, it is what makes girls happy.”
“Okay, you win. I will consider the idea of finding a boyfriend. Are you happy now?”
“Very!” My mother smiled, clasping her hands. “There will be many nice boys at the wedding. You could….”
“Mom! I said I will consider the idea. I’m not going to throw myself at the very first guy I see!”
“Okay, Honey. We will not talk about it again. But don’t forget my words. No matter how many times you say that you are happy without a man, no woman can be truly happy without one.”
That was my mom for you. She always said that woman’s happiness was in man’s hands. Well, maybe she was right, I didn’t know. I never had a serious relationship. Actually I thought I didn’t need such an unnecessary addition to my everyday life. At least not right now.
When my mom finally left, I went over to the bed and sank back against the pillows, closing my eyes. There was a time when I could spend hours lying like that and dreaming about Jeff. He was one of the most gorgeous guys I had ever met. All the girls from our school were crazy about him, including me. But Jeff never looked in my direction. He flirted with my friends, laughed and asked them out. But I was out of his radar. And I couldn’t stop wondering why?
On the day of our prom I finally decided to talk to him. When another slow song started, I gathered up my courage and asked him for a dance. And to my surprise, he agreed at once. I was too shocked to speak, so he spoke first.
“I would have never imagined that you would ask me for a dance,” he said, smiling.
“Why? You think I’m not good enough to dance with you?”
“Actually I thought I wasn’t good enough to dance with you.”
“What?”
“Well, yes. You never noticed me. You never stopped to talk, you always ran away when I tried to say ‘hi’. I thought you hated me, although I didn’t know why.”
“I hated you? No, I…” What was I supposed to say? That I had been crazy in love with him since the first grade? No, I wasn’t going to admit it. “I never hated you, I was too busy studying.”
He was definitely wrong about me, but I didn’t try to change his opinion. Instead, I thanked him for the dance and left the ballroom, holding my head as high as I could.
Later that night, I heard him talking to his friends, “People like Megan always get what they want. But in reality, they are nothing without their daddies and money.”
It was like a splash of cold water that turned into tears running down my cheeks. I ran as fast as I could. And when I stopped, I was in my room, packing things and leaving home in a hurry.
I had a cousin in London, who helped me settle down in the big city. My parents called me non-stop, asking me to come back home. But I never did … until today.
I did my best to prove to everyone and myself that I wasn’t just a little girl who couldn’t take care of herself. I enrolled in college, found a job, and rented an apartment in the northwest of London. It wasn’t big, but I could pay for it and leave a little money for myself.
I never took money from my parents or my brother, even though they always made sure that my prepaid credit card was full. I didn’t use it, but I promised them to keep it just in case anything unpredictable happened. I was proud of my independent life, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from me, let alone break my heart, and leave me crying into my pillow. Even though I looked like a real snow queen, I didn’t care. My icy crown was the most comfortable thing I ever wore.
Chapter 2
Aiden
I heard footsteps, but didn’t turn my head to see who was coming downstairs. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Megan. It felt like I knew everything about her: starting from her favorite colors and food, and to the list of habits and likes that her brother could talk about for hours. He loved his little sister and missed her a lot. And the only thing that I still couldn’t understand was the reason for her escape. No one knew why she moved to London.
Owen and I met about two years ago, when he was invited to work for my father’s company. He was a great lawyer. We became good friends, and now he asked me to be his best man. Not that I didn’t like weddings, but I wasn’t thrilled about them either. Owen needed my help with some preparations for the wedding, and that’s why I got stuck in his parents’ house for a whole week.
I’d never met Megan before, but the moment I saw her standing in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips, I realized who she was. Long, curly strands of her dark-brown hair cascaded down her back, and it was really hard to stop myself from running my hands through them. And the girl obviously knew how to wear jeans, outlining her long legs and damn good-looking hips.
A few hours passed since our first meeting, and though I didn’t want to admit it, I was dying to see Megan again.
“I can almost feel the back of my head burning under your piercing stare,” I said, turning another page of the paper I was reading at the moment.
“You still here?” she said, obviously unhappy to see me.
“Where else should I be?”
She entered the room and took a few steps until she stopped in front of me, her arms crossed. “I don’t know. Where do you live?”
I could barely hold back my smile. “Here,” I said, closing the paper. “I live here.”
“Are you one of Owen’s guests?”
“Yes.”
Disappointment crossed Megan’s face. She still hoped to find a reason to kick me out of her house.
“I see. Well, make yourself at home then.”
“Thank you,” I said, rising to my feet. Even wearing high heels the girl was shorter than me. “I’m sure I will enjoy staying here.”
Her honey eyes met mine. “No doubt.” Blessing me with one last side glance, Megan turned to the glass door that opened to the terrace.
“I wouldn’t mind a short tour,” I called after her. “I didn’t have time to look around here.”
She stopped and looked at me from head to toe, as if she was trying to decide whether or not I was good enough to deserve her attention. “I’m sure you will be able to do it on your own.”
Ouch. Beauty and attitude — my favorite combination.
“I think I might get lost without your help,” I said, following her.
She rolled her eyes and gave the glass door a hard push.
Maybe staying here won’t be that boring after all, I thought to myself. I already liked the upcoming week.
“So tell me, Megan, how does it feel to be back?”
“It sucks.”
I smirked. “Why so?”
“This is the last place I want to be right now.”
“I thought you would have missed home. You haven’t been here for … how long? Four years?”
“So what? I’m not missing anything.”
“But you said it was the last place you would want to be, which makes me think that you must be missing someone or something that is not here.”
She stopped abruptly and looked at me furiously. “Why does everyone keep asking me about boyfriends? I’m not going to be in a relationship any time soon.”
“Good.” I smiled at her response. “That makes two of us.”
“Really? And here I thought that Mr. Popularity couldn’t miss a single skirt.”
“What makes you think that? Do I look like a womanizer?” I wasn’t one actually. Though most of those women I knew fully shared Megan’s opinion.
“Yes, you do. A typical walking disaster, promising mind-blowing sex and troubles.”
I burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you just said that aloud. And your brother always described you as a very modest girl.”
“Words are just words. Saying them doesn’t make me a slut.”
“Of course not. But…” I leaned closer to her face. “It makes me want to hear the words you would scream while having that mind-blowing thing you’ve mentioned.”