I feel like this story has been floating around in my head for so long and it feels so good to finally get it out. I’m in love with both Rose and Seth. Rose, for her strength to be able to overcome everything she went through and to be able to put Seth in his place when the time came, and Seth because sigh…he’s just a bit of a sweetheart. I really hope they’ve both found a way into your heart, too.
Once again, I need to thank my incredible author friends for all their crazy ideas and suggestions, which leads us to each collaboration. Each of you push and challenge me, and I love working with you all.
Thank you to my amazing betas who read this the moment I sent it to them, and especially to Deanna, my football fanatic, for helping me with the finer details.
Michelle, once again thank you for editing this for me at the last minute. I couldn’t do this without you.
And, as always, last but never least, my husband and daughter for being with me every step of the way on this crazy journey.
This book will release almost three years after my very first, and I could not have imagined what was ahead of me. I have loved every second of it. Thank you for being a part of it.
Tracy xo
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Tracy Lorraine is a M/F and M/M contemporary romance author. Tracy has just turned thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband, baby girl and lovable but slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her head stuck in her Kindle, Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she dreamt up and hasn’t looked back since.
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Falling Series
Falling for Ryan: Part One #1
Falling for Ryan: Part Two #2
Falling for Jax #3
Falling for Daniel (An Falling Series Novella)
Falling for Ruben #4
Falling for Fin #5
Falling for Lucas #6
Falling for Caleb #7
Falling for Declan #8
Falling For Liam #9
Chasing Series
Chasing Logan
Ruined Series
Ruined Plans #1
Ruined by Lies #2
Ruined Promises #3
Never Forget Series
Never Forget Him #1
Never Forget Us #2
Everywhere & Nowhere #3
The Cocktail Girls
His Manhattan
Her Kensington
The Halloween Honeys
His Sorority Sweetheart
Second Helpings
Cheeky Trifle
Santa’s Coming
Santa’s Naughty Elf
Resolution Pact
Resolution: Exposure
Sneak Peek
Have you met Summer and Harrison in His Manhattan?
Keep reading for a sneak peek and start falling for my sexy British billionaire.
His Manhattan
Chapter One
Harrison
“Tell me again why you’re here,” I say, looking over at my brother as he knocks back what must be his forth whiskey.
He glances over at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Vegas, baby!”
I groan, and focus my attention out the tiny window. Blue sky stretches out as far as I can see. It gives me a sense of calmness Zack is trying his best to ruin.
This was meant to be a simple business trip. I’ve got clients to meet and auctions to attend, but now I find myself a babysitter to my completely irresponsible, younger brother.
I could kill our dad for letting slip that I was heading to Las Vegas. I’m not going to party it up, blow a fortune on the tables, and find as many willing women as possible…which is exactly Zack’s sole purpose for joining me.
Mum’s words ring in my ears as I hear him order another whiskey from the flight attendant.
“It’ll be good for you to spend time together,” she says softly as she looks into my concerned eyes. “It might help level him out a little if he sees you in action.”
She’s full of positivity. I’ve no idea how she’s kept it up all these years. Zack is one big fuck up.
His blatant flirting with the attendant drags me from my thoughts.
“So, Paula,” he says, as he leans forward to read her badge. “Tell me about the mile high club.”
If she’s shocked by the question, she doesn’t show it. I guess she’s experienced much worse than my idiotic brother on these flights.
“Shut up,” I snap. We’re only two hours in to our flight from London, and I’m already sick of the sight of him.
“You need to lighten up, bro,” he says, turning to me once Paula’s escaped.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“No you’re fucking not. You’re just a younger, even more boring version of our father, and that’s really saying something.”
I grind my teeth to stop myself responding.
“You’re going to Vegas for business,” he says, air quoting the last word. “No single guy under the age of seventy goes to Vegas just for business. You need to get a fucking grip.”
I remain silent as I try not to add fuel to his fire. According to Zack, finishing school, taking over the family business, and living somewhat of a quiet life is absurd.
“Seriously, you might as well buy yourself a pair of plaid slippers and attach a pair of elbow patches to that suit and be done with it,” he says, eyeing my tweed jacket.
“You’re a dick,” I mutter, turning away from him. To think I was excited to find out I was going to be a big brother when I was seven. He’s been a pain in the arse from the day he was fucking born.
Thankfully, the copious amounts of whiskey eventually send him to sleep, leaving me in peace to get some work done. What I said earlier was true: I like my life, and I love my job. There was never any question about me joining the family business. I’ve been obsessed with antiques since I was a little boy. My grandad used to take me to auctions and teach me about the history behind the pieces. I’d soak it all up while other boys my ages kicked a ball about. It’s safe to say I was different, but I didn’t care. I’d spent my teen years researching, buying and selling
to build up my own collection, while others were out partying and getting drunk. Zack was—still is—like that, which is just one of the many differences between us.
Until he turned up at our parents’ a few days ago, we hadn’t seen him in weeks. I’ve no clue where he disappears off to or what he does, but he always seems to turn up eventually.
It’s late when we land at McCarran International, and the only thing I want to do is get to my room and crash. The first auction is tomorrow, and I’d prefer not to be jet lagged for it, if possible.
The glamorous receptionist looks up when I step in front of her desk. Her eyes assess me before she finds Zack over my shoulder. I’m used to it; he’s got that bad boy look going on, which gets him all the girls.
Fuck knows why; he’s a wanker.
We’re polar opposites, him with blonde, shaggy long hair and blue eyes, and me with our parents’ dark features and tanned skin.
“I’ve got a room booked under Abbot. I also need to add another,” I say reluctantly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Abbot, we don’t have any rooms left. I can offer you a two-bedroom suite instead.” I glance at Zack and don’t miss his delight.
“Fine.” I already know I’m going to regret it. I should send him to another hotel far away from me.
“Holy fuck, Harrison, this is sweet!” Zack announces once he’s had a whistle stop tour of our home for the next few days.
He’s right—it’s impressive, but unfortunately his presence puts a dampener on everything about this trip.
He grabs the welcome pack and starts flicking through. “What’re we doing then? Hit the casino? A club? Oh, look, they have a Cocktail bar, I bet that’s full of hot as fuck waitresses.”
“I’m going to bed.”
“Fuck that, Harry, you fucking pussy. We’re in Las Vegas; if you can let your hair down anywhere, it’s here.”
“I’m good, thanks. I’ve got plans for tomorrow.”
“How are we fucking related?”
“Fucked if I know,” I grunt as I turn my back to him. I’ve often wondered if he’s the milkman’s, because he’s nothing like me—or our parents.
I hear him banging around while I hang up my suits, fold the rest of my clothes in the drawers at the end of the bed, and arrange all my toiletries in the adjoining bathroom, but it’s not long before I hear his footsteps getting closer.
I don’t look up, but I can feel his eyes burning into my back. “You do know you’re only here for a few days, right? You’re not moving in.” I turn back and see him gazing down at my empty suitcase, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I’m aware.”
“You ready?”
“I already said I’m not going.”
“We’re in fucking Vegas,” he repeats, like I’ve already forgotten the long arse flight, or the fact that I can see the bright lights of the strip from the window. “We’re going to that cocktail bar. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“You’re a pain the arse.”
“I know, and you’re fucking boring. You’re thirty-two, not seventy-five.”
“Thanks for the maths lesson,” I seethe. I don’t need my irresponsible little brother criticizing me on my life choices—especially when his own could do with some work.
We stare at each other. A smirk plays on Zack’s lips. He’s got a plan; I will him to disappear.
“Go on your own, you don’t need me any other day of the week.” I zip up my suitcase and place it on the stand out of the way.
“Come on, Harry. Mum wanted us to spend sometime together. She thinks it’ll be good for me,” he pouts.
I narrow my eyes at him, irritated that he’s using her words against me.
“One drink.”
“One drink,” he confirms, but it’s anything but sincere. I regret my decision instantly.
“Have you got to wear that farmer’s jacket?” Zack asks as we descend to the first floor.
“It’s not a fucking farmer jacket. It’s Armani.”
“It’s shit, is what it is.”
I shake my head and follow behind him.
It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust from the bright artificial light out in the hotel reception to the darkened atmosphere inside the Little Black Dress Bar. The slow beats of the music filter through me as the scent of expensive perfume mixed with equally pricey liquor hits me. There are booths and tables littered around, and customers who are dressed up to the nines, sipping on fancy drinks, enjoying their time in the city of sin.
“Oh, fuck, yes! That’s what I’m talking about.” Zack says ahead of me. It clearly meets his approval.
I take one step to follow him towards the bar when something—or someone—crashes into my side. I turn and reach out, but it’s too late. She goes tumbling to the ground, followed by her tray. Glass shatters on the almost mirrored tiled floor beneath us, and scatters in every direction.
“Fuck, are you okay? I ask, bending down and lifting the tray from her stomach.
“Yeah, I—” her words are cut off when she looks up at me. Fuck, she’s beautiful, and her eyes are mesmerising. They’re so light blue, they’re almost silver.
Our eyes stay connected as I reach out to help her up.
“Oh, shit. Don’t move,” another of the waitresses says when she comes rushing over with a dustpan and brush.
The waitress I’m still staring at goes to step forward once she’s on her feet, but changes her mind at the last minute when she sees some glass beneath her foot. She stumbles once again. I steady her with my hands on her tiny waist and her breasts gently brush my chest. I suck in a sharp breath at the contact, and my pulse starts racing. She slowly lifts her head and it feels like I’m slapped around the face once again when her eyes land on mine. My hands tremble with need as I continue holding her to me.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers and looks away, her cheeks flushing red.
“At least get a drink down your neck before you start molesting the waitresses,” Zack says, but his eyes remain glued to the arse of the one bent down, sweeping up the mess left behind.
Hearing another voice drags my waitress’ attention away from wherever she’d drifted off to, and she instantly jumps away from me as if she’d been burned. She drops to the floor and starts picking up the larger shards of glass.
“You don’t need to help,” she says when she notices I’ve lowered myself down beside her.
After walking to the bar and waiting a few minutes, I watch as my waitress walks over and heads in our direction.
“What can I get for you both?” she asks, her voice quiet as she keeps her eyes on the polished bar between us.
Unfortunately for her, Zack sees her vulnerability immediately. He looks her up and down, and a small smirk appears on his face.
“A blowjob would sort me right out,” he says with a wink.
Her chin drops and her face flushes bright red as she stares at him. I take the opportunity to look over her properly. Her golden blonde hair is pulled back into a smooth ponytail. Her make up is perfect, red lips emphasising her flawless milky skin. I continue down her long, slim neck and take in each and every curve covered by a tight little black dress.
“Don’t be a dick,” I mutter, although what I really want to do is punch him.
“What? It’s a cocktail bar; you do blowjobs, right?” he asks, turning back to the girl.
I focus my stare on the colourful bottles lined up behind the bar as embarrassment flows through me. One look at the shy, sexy waitress, and as soon as Zack mentions something slightly sexual my brain is straight in the gutter.
“Uh…yeah,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace nervously.
“We’ll have two then, please.”
“Actually, I’ll just have a sparkling water.”
“I’m sorry, please ignore my brother. He’s going through somewhat of a dry spell; it makes him a little cranky,” he says to the waitress. Her blush extends down her neck. “A fucking sparkl
ing water?” he asks, turning to me.
I don’t return his attention. I’m too enthralled by the shy waitress in front of me. She seems horrified by Zack. It’s understandable; he’s a prick—but I’d have thought a cocktail waitress would be used to his kind of idiocy.
“I’m sorry about him. I’ll have a gin and tonic, and whatever you’re having,” I offer in apology.
“Oh…no, we can’t…”
“She’ll have a manhattan,” the other waitress calls as she saunters over.
“No, really…I shouldn’t.”
“Be wild, Sum. Max isn’t here,” she encourages.
“You’ll have one with us, won’t you?” Zack asks the other waitress, shamelessly staring at her tits once again.
“I’ll have a screaming orgasm,” she says with a wink. “Scarlett.” He takes her offered hand and kisses her knuckles like the gentleman he most definitely isn’t. “And this is Summer,” she adds.
“I’m Zack, and this pussy here is my brother, Harrison.”
They walk off to sort out the drinks, and Zack turns to me. “See, I told you this was a good idea. They’re fucking smoking. And that shy one,” he says, biting down on his knuckle just to prove his point. “What I could do with that…”
Dear All Star Player (The Matchmaker Series) Page 7