Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1)

by Amari, Nina

Almost falling asleep to the sound of sirens wailing a tapering tantrum...New York was New York. She'd grown to appreciate its brashness, grit, and mind-blowing opportunity. She loved a city that made dreams happen. There was no place like it.

  Fighting the effects of the wine, she debated whether to write tonight's journal entry. But, knowing how journalizing always made her come to terms with the reality of her own life, meant that she was minutes away from what could be another self-discovery.

  She leapt off the bed and wobbled over to the antique writing desk, Where's a pen? The desk was solid and bright white, but quaint and looked like it would've been in a summer cottage perched within a light-filled New England villa.

  As she braced herself on the century year old wood, the smooth surface was clear of anything except for a framed image of a young man and woman on a pier. Danielle paused and held the frame close for a moment, staring at the completely unfamiliar setting.

  Seconds later, she fumbled to place the frame exactly where she'd found it, still feeling the slight buzz from the merlot. But then, just as she slid the drawer open, she'd raised an eyebrow. There it was--a crisp letterhead from the offices of, Finch Young and Prentiss, CPAs. Apparently, he hadn't known her last name was Prentiss. He hadn't really known anything about her, or so she thought.

  Danielle was lost for words, as her mind spun what could've been a reasonable explanation, or maybe not. And then, a few moments later she'd tussled the letterhead back as she'd started to call for him, "Rom--"

  But then her call for him stunted in mid-sentence.

  Her hands were shaking but she'd stilled them as best she could to file the letterhead exactly between the folders where she'd found it. Danielle quickly slid the drawer shut nearly slamming her finger as she bolted back to the bed. It was barely a few seconds after she'd only called the first syllable in his name when he'd poked his head around the doorframe in his undershirt. "You called. Is everything okay?"

  Danielle suddenly noticed Roman standing in the doorway. She looked at him with uneasiness, as he stood panting. She hadn't expected him to come so quickly. At that moment, she shifted slightly and looked at the pillow, her gaze focused on the flower he'd given her that was lying atop the silk.

  She wasn't certain whether to mention anything to him, especially after all he'd done for her. She didn't want to ruin the evening they'd had.

  Despite the way his shoulders broadened in the doorway, he'd looked like a man that was clearly no stranger to pumping iron--his solid abs bulged perfect little ripples in the ridges of his tank shirt. Prince charming could've carried his Princess to Camelot, if only she'd bothered to notice.

  His were no paltry muscles. With every breath he'd panted made the sentiment even more obvious. Danielle would have salivated if her gaze hadn't still lingered on the flower.

  Although she was a lightweight woman, the mattress bounced, rolling the rose off the pillow when she'd shifted slightly to look over her shoulder at him. "Everything's fine. Just fine," she forced a smile and nodded.

  His breath was still heaving, although to Danielle it all seemed to ping her brain into indecisiveness and Roman's futile attempt to shield her suspiciousness was still heavy on her mind.

  Roman raised an eyebrow, "Alright then, I guess this is..." He paused just before he gave a small smile and said, "Goodnight," as he turned his step from the doorway.

  She could hear his bare feet gliding across the hardwood as he stepped out into the hall, just as he started shuffling his step toward the living room.

  When Danielle heard the coast was clear a few moments later, she waddled back to the desk and slid the drawer back open. As she tucked her hand into its crevice, ruffling through the contents, she noticed another sheet of office letterhead had been neatly tucked under a few other papers and a couple folders. Except this one was confidential and off-limits to lower-level or outer office personnel.

  Danielle's eyes were wide and still full of questions as she wrote tonight's entry...

  Sunday night

  A lot of bizarre things have been happening. Car almost tried to, scratch that-- It nearly scared the living daylights out of me. But then I was just absolutely livid about it. Things could've gone seriously wrong. I'm glad I met the new guy I'm staying with-- he's such a gentleman. His name is Roman Jules and I think I feel something for him. I don't know what it is, but I just know I haven't felt like this in a really long time.

  I just wish I knew though, if he was feeling something too. He acts like he might--sometimes--but why doesn't he act on it. Or is it all in my mind. Maybe he just wants to be friends--and that's all--maybe there's nothing else to it. But I still wonder though, are my qualms worth consideration ... is it all a coincidence that today's fiasco happened just moments before I'd met him?

  Roman sprawled face-up on the living room sectional with his hands loose at his sides and feet angling out over the arm rests. Suddenly his phone vibrated on the coffee table. His eyes flew open and he'd instantly rolled toward the glow of the television to reach his phone, pressing it between one ear and his shoulder. After some effort, he'd whispered into his phone cupping his hand over the other.

  Hey, this is Roman.

  Yeah, she's here.

  You didn't have to--

  Hang on a sec.

  Clearing his throat, Roman repositioned his head on the sofa cushion before continuing.

  Okay, so we're still on.

  Same time? Okay. See 'ya.

  Click.

  Chapter Three

  "Pardon me," a masculine voice spoke. Danielle was hell bent on making it to her ten o'clock meeting with her partner Finch. Nothing else mattered in that moment, except the tone of masculinity that had swept her ear down through her body was resonating to the depths of her soul, defying a reason to be late.

  The suavely debonair charm in his voice would've swooned any woman's heart. The pulse was deep and provocative -- both commandeering and sensitive, as his dark suit slipped past without touching her. He was so close that she couldn't help but taste spiced cologne doused over aftershave.

  All she'd gotten was a hint of masculinity that needed a face to correlate what Danielle was already beginning to find familiar.

  He was a tall vision in black with one hand in his pocket strolling down the hall with a commanding suave presence. He was smooth. He was urbane. And he was so finely polished and strode with an air of stylish sophistication as his broad shoulders swung in a rhythm that would've called a chorus of women beckoning. It was no wonder she'd notice his silhouette anywhere.

  Suddenly, when he'd spun around, her eyes lit when he'd said her name, as she paused in the hallway of Finch Young and Prentiss, Certified Public Accountants. The huge signage emblazoned in gold hung near the central hall, along with a smaller inscription, Excellence and dedication for over forty years.

  Her heel wobbled almost losing her footing when she'd bolted closer toward him, "Roman?" she said with a small smile.

  She dwarfed his tall physique in the tunneled corridor that weaved past countless offices of finance professionals-- accountants, auditors, IT, marketing associates and executives. It was barely nine 'o clock in the morning and the entire forty-first floor was buzzing caffeine central, kicking energy jolts beyond the third cup.

  Roman's eyes widened at the barely repressed arousal in her expression, as her cheeks turned a slight cherry blush to the tune of his voice that echoed in her mind still seconds later. She could almost salivate from its rhythm that rumbled over her skin like a sensual caress of swooning violins. She'd recognize that sexy tantalizing voice anywhere. And his spicy scent that oozed a trail into the corridor that seemed endless, seeping into her pores an infusion of clove, cedar wood, and exotic vetiver.

  "Roman?" she said again, still surprised, as his name purred from her tongue like a sex-starved kitten. By that time, after he'd already stopped in his tracks, she knew he'd felt something. She knew the spark sizzling through him had to be the same on
e jetting her heart into overdrive.

  His arms were heavy and strong when he'd slipped them down her shoulders gently. She caught a glimpse of his curvaceous shoulders bulging muscle through the threads of his finely tailored suit.

  Her heart was already pounding in two when he'd whispered, "You look beautiful," as his eyes roved her likeness to the pink peony he'd given her yesterday. Then after a short pause, Danielle was still looking up at him when he said, "Surprised to see me?"

  Danielle was startled to see him at her office, although he in fact seemed more surprised than she was. After all she would have been one of the first to be informed of any new hires. Roman writhed a smile before she had time to observe the surreptitious haze in his expression.

  And then suddenly, his attention darted from her eyes to her open blouse, and her perky bosom peeking through the v-shaped opening. He saw the naked skin bubbling over the lace trim. His eyes fixed on the soft rhythm of her breasts rising and falling with every breath of oxygen that raced back to her lungs.

  There was a pause. In his silence, she'd felt Roman's attention had gone elsewhere. Danielle groped her loose button, as heat began to intensify in his eyes.

  She could see how much he wanted to pull her into his arms, just like the vision that threaded through her dreams all of last night reminding her just how much she wanted him. But after last night, she knew he wasn't brazen to pull her closer and show her his feelings. If he couldn't last night, he certainly wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

  After all, they were both accomplished professionals with a job to do. Although, she still wasn't quite certain of his. But, she knew that job didn't mean spanking a sweaty steam of tawdriness on her desk anytime soon.

  "Wardrobe disaster," she said with a laugh, breaking the awkwardness. "This is embarrassing." Danielle straightened her cropped jacket and buttoned it to cover the opening in her blouse.

  She'd totally lost her train of thought for a moment until they both started down the hall again that seemed to appear endless.

  Her hair bounced against her shoulders with forceful vigor, as she smoothed her hand over the woven tweed in faithfulness of her professionalism.

  Soon she would know just how far dedication had taken her. But still, she'd yet to know of Roman's presence at Finch Young and Prentiss, CPAs on an early Monday morning.

  "It's so lovely to see you this morning. You rushed out before I had a chance to say good morning," he said softly, as Danielle's pace picked up all of a sudden.

  “Yeah. I just hauled a cab, I didn’t want to wake you.”

  She felt his eyes roving her body from several feet away, until Roman hyped his step to keep up with her four-inch suede. Four inches of pencil tip ripped into her thoughts and feelings growing steadier for him. But all Roman saw was the muted stomping treading on the textured carpet.

  As their shoulders fused the narrow corridor together in similar pace, seconds seemed more like minutes. Everything looked like a mirror image from one extension of the hall to another.

  Danielle raised her eyebrow, and then she simply turned and smiled at him with a flush of arousal that was rushing through her veins. Her eyes widened and her cheeks rose to match the peony blush glowing her floral resonance amidst the bleak and barren corridor.

  Everything was a cool gray with even cooler shades of creamy beige-- akin to the rainy day percolating the horizon. That is, until it came to the offices that bore the traditional mahogany finishes, oil rubbed leather, and banker's instruments. Purely masculine, except for Danielle's office that added a touch of feminine comfort-- a huge oriental rug and exotic delicacies made this one of the few places she'd felt at home.

  How many weekends had she rushed to the office in the cold and rain to wrap up the most complex fraud scheme? How often had work revolved her entire life into its footprint -- its schedule of less than a moment's notice to be present for a career that couldn't give her the one thing she was missing-- Love.

  "Are you following me, Roman," she asked him in a voice that shook with that wanting. "What on earth are you doing here?" Sounding suddenly buoyant in the next beat, she said, "Not that I'm not glad to see you."

  Her voice held a strong vibe of arousal, but she couldn't act on it--No, not now, anyway. She blew a deep breath, sensing he'd seen straight through her. "Ah...what I meant to say--"

  Their eyes locked for a split second, when Danielle stopped cold in her feisty tracks just a few feet away from a huge set of double doors. Danielle had gone silent and was staring straight at him. Roman paused; his shoulder rocked hers gently when he'd turned to register her baffled yet hypnotic stare. Roman's right dimple swathed his chiseled bronze when he smiled back at her. There was something familiar, yet brooding.

  Her heel tapping stilled his senses, as he stared back at her with his baby face sensuality, pulsing her heart another octave toward breathlessness.

  "What are you doing?" he asked her, as his stare met her writhe hand.

  "It's for stress," she said breathlessly.

  Danielle flexed the spongy sphere of foam rubber in her fisted palm, thrashing it between her fingers. "Anytime my partner calls me in for one of his meetings...I just know it's his chance to swamp me with a ton of--" Her words stopped short. She sucked in a sharp breath as her thumb pricked little circles into its squishy pressure points, spurting little vibrations through her.

  But, for the moment, she was too focused on the peril of her future. She couldn't risk letting her parents down or herself. At times though, it was hard not to be the perfect daughter or piranha workaholic, especially when she'd spent years sacrificing for a career that was teetering along the brink of emptiness. No, not after all the years she'd spent in school, putting herself through late-night exam crunches and overslept mornings, juggled with interning.

  Having made it in one of the toughest cities on earth was just another cause and effect that plagued her life into a tailspin of choices that rarely fulfilled balance.

  Roman's eyes trailed Danielle's slender fingertips--as they steadily chiseled the viscous stress ball, titillating her nerves to calm.

  "It happens all the time," she insisted. "I just get a little tense that's all. I'm handling it. I'm fine."

  Roman raised an eyebrow and looked even more concerned. "You're not fine. You work way too much." She murmured a restrained lilt of irritation to his statement. Roman's voice was cheerful and his eyes animated when he said, "Don't you know that all work and no play--"

  "Work is my life," she admitted. "Crap. You weren't supposed to know--" She looked down at the supple suede caressing her calves and tapering her toes to a prickly stir.

  Suddenly, Roman grabbed her hand, and that instant his warm touch enfolded her bronze in afterglow. All she could do was get so damn hot from the mere fact he'd driven her breathless.

  She couldn't care less about foam rubber or anything. All she'd remembered were those visions of finding a man so sweet and gentle--a man she wanted more than he was willing to let on.

  Just then, the sphere fell to the carpet and rolled over her pink boot, stopping short of the hall baseboard.

  "You won't be needing that anymore," he nodded at the malleable ball that resembled a baby's rubber toy from his vantage point.

  After a short pause, he continued. "Take my lead, breath in, breath out, from your stomach. Focus on every breath," he said softly. "Let all your worries roll off your shoulders." She drew a few breaths as he said, "Just visualize a tranquil place...think of something that brings you peace."

  His soft voice hypnotized her sense of place for the moment. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as his hand gently relaxed hers to her side. "Deep breaths. Just relax," he spoke softly.

  She felt at ease with his warm voice quivering her muscles to become limber. But then suddenly, she'd come back to earth, the moment his hand released hers. Her gaze drifted to her watch, and then her eyes flicked open like saucers. The time, it's almost--

  "Daniel
le, you have to slow down. It's for your own good." His voice held a gruff cadence and advised caution, which she didn’t care to hear.

  Slightly annoyed she said, "That's easier said than done Roman.” She paused before saying, “I have an image to represent as partner of one of the leading CPA firms. Both inside and outside of Finch Young and Prentiss CPAs, and that image costs-- big time. You know the saying-- It takes money to make money."

  "Roman, I have enough on my hands."

  "Just try it," he insisted. "You need to take some time for yourself and BREATHE."

  "Now how am I supposed to do that? You do realize my job around here don't you?" Danielle poised her hands to her hips with a sassy overconfident allure about her. "Why do you think the halls are so quiet? Everybody's working. They're too busy in their caves to even realize anything outside of work. They're just like me. How else did you think we'd made it to the top of our game? This isn't for the faint of heart."

  There was a beat of silence when his attention drifted from her eyes--to the transom hinged over the boardroom entry--down the labyrinth corridor--and back to her stiffened expression.

  Roman’s voice was a little gentler when he rested his hands on her shoulders. "Listen Danielle. It's your choice. I'm just trying to tell you, this place 'el drive you crazy if you let it."

  She laughed and admitted, "Well, aren't you the guru."

  "Take it from me." He gazed at her, totally straight-faced, as his hands coursed down her tweed sleeves and dropped to his sides. "I know people like you...they've run themselves ragged. Absolute workaholics. No time for spouse, kids, family. No time for fun. No time for any real living."

  He didn't stand a chance of thwarting her hasty retort to set the record straight.

  "Believe it or not--" she said, casually smoothing back her hair, as she flitted her lashes. "I've had--"

  Ignoring whatever excuse she might have had to reason with, he shrugged. "The world told us to grow up, but who said we had to lose our childlike innocence. When was the last time you had any fun like you used to?" Clearing his throat, he continued, "All you do is work all the time, and that just makes for a dull, boring life."