Everything I Hoped For
Page 1
Everything I Hoped For
A Journey’s End Billionaire Romance
Ann Christopher
Contents
Back Cover Copy
Also by Ann Christopher
Dear Reader Letter
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
Excerpt from EVERYTHING I NEED
Also by Ann Christopher
Acknowledgments
About the Author
The Queen’s grandson. A beautiful American doctor. An unforgettable royal love story…
* * *
Opposites attract. But for how long?
At thirty-five, with both her training and medical challenges finally behind her, Dr. Melody Harrison no longer believes in fairy-tale romances, handsome princes or even online dating. Her single passion? A blossoming career as a pediatric surgeon.
Given his painful past, sexy but awkward Londoner Anthony Scott no longer believes in much of anything at all. Until the night he lays eyes on Melody at a glittering gala in small-town Journey’s End.
Sparks fly when opposites attract. As for happily ever after between star-crossed lovers? Anything’s possible in Journey’s End…
If you love hot and emotional contemporary romance, grab this two-part romantic saga today!
1.No Ordinary Love (Baptiste & Samira #1)
2.Beyond Ordinary Love (Baptiste & Samira #2)
3.Everything I Hoped For (Anthony & Melody #1)
4.Everything I Need (Anthony & Melody #2)
5.Untitled (Nick’s Story #1)
6.Untitled (Nick’s Story #2)
Also by Ann Christopher
JOURNEY’S END Small-Town Contemporary Romance Series
“Book” 1: A JOURNEY’S END Novella
Book 2: LET’S DO IT
Book 3: ON FIRE
“Book” 4: LET’S STAY TOGETHER Novella
Book 5: UNFORGETTABLE
Click here for more titles in this series!
* * *
Billionaires of Journey’s End Contemporary Romance Series
Book 1: NO ORDINARY LOVE
Book 2: BEYOND ORDINARY LOVE
Book 3: EVERYTHING I HOPED FOR
Book 4: EVERYTHING I NEED
Click here for more titles in this series!
* * *
DEADLY Romantic Suspense Series
Book 1: DEADLY PURSUIT
Book 2: DEADLY DESIRES
Book 3: DEADLY SECRETS
* * *
IT’S COMPLICATED Contemporary Romance Series
TROUBLE
RISK
JUST ABOUT SEX
SWEETER THAN REVENGE
* * *
The Davies Family Contemporary Romance Series
Book 1: SINFUL SEDUCTION
Book 2: SINFUL TEMPTATION
Book 3: SINFUL ATTRACTION
Book 4: SINFUL PARADISE
* * *
The Warner Family Contemporary Romance Series
Book 1: TENDER SECRETS
Book 2: ROAD TO SEDUCTION
Book 3: CAMPAIGN FOR SEDUCTION
Book 4: REDEMPTION’S KISS
Book 5: REDEMPTION’S TOUCH
* * *
Boxed Sets
DEADLY Series
IT’S COMPLICATED
SWEET LOVE
* * *
BELLA MONSTRUM Young Adult Horror Series
Book 1: MONSTRUM
* * *
Single Titles
CASE FOR SEDUCTION
THE SURGEON’S SECRET BABY
SEDUCED ON THE RED CARPET
* * *
Novellas
TAILS OF LOVE
GIFT OF LOVE
Dear Readers:
* * *
You know the old saying about how you only get one chance to make a first impression. Which is all well and good if you’re, say, a charming extrovert who loves parties and meeting new people. But what if you’re an introvert (like me) who’s uncomfortable in new situations? What if you’re downright shy? Are you doomed to failure every time you meet someone new?
* * *
I don’t think so.
* * *
Say hello to Anthony Scott, our intrepid hero. Anthony first arrived on the scene in Beyond Ordinary Love, the second half of Baptiste and Samira’s story. You remember Anthony, right? Baptiste’s blond and handsome British friend who was a bit rude upon being introduced to Samira’s best friend, Dr. Melody Harrison, at the winery gala?
* * *
Well, it turns out that there’s a lot more to Anthony than meets the eye. He’s not a bad person. Just awkward. He’s got a bit of Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice, anyone? The Keira Knightley version?) in him. Maybe a little Hugh Grant as the prime minister in Love, Actually as well.
* * *
I don’t know about you, but I consider that a sexy combination. ;)
* * *
Anthony has been wanting to meet Melody. Why? Because she’s smart, accomplished and beautiful. An intriguing woman with a complicated past. And he feels a powerful, instantaneous and undeniable connection to her the second he lays eyes on her.
* * *
Melody also feels this connection. Even though Anthony’s a bit rough around the edges.
* * *
As an eternal optimist, I believe that great love stories can arise from inauspicious beginnings. Turn the page and see if you agree with me…
* * *
Happy Reading!
* * *
Ann
1
Bloody black-tie events.
Scowling as he leaned against the nearest pillar, Anthony Scott ran his fingers under his starched collar as discreetly as he could, trying to overcome the feeling of a noose tightening round his neck. The glittering ballroom overflowed with exactly the sorts of yammering society nobs and suck-ups he normally encountered back in London. The sorts that set his teeth on edge. One would think that crossing the Atlantic and traveling all the way to tiny Journey’s End in upstate New York would solve this particular problem, but no such luck. One might also think that, given his age (thirty-four) and his background, he might be more comfortable with chatting up complete strangers but, again, no such luck. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind giving a nice chunk of his fortune for the pleasure of escaping up to his suite and being done with the whole event.
The only bright spots on his otherwise dreary horizon?
Half the crowd were Yanks, which meant they had no idea who he was.
And she might be there.
His skin tightened pleasantly with anticipation, but a quick scan of the crowd revealed no one nearby with that glowing golden skin or tumbling corkscrew hair. No one with that direct gaze, which was as challenging as it was compelling. No one with the smiling eyes and banked laughter that suggested she was the woman you wanted whether you were watching a Wes Anderson movie or sharing secrets in the dark.
A tinge of disappointment made him scowl again before he raised his whisky glass to his lips and drank deeply. He somehow resisted the urge to pull out his phone and stare at her pictures for the millionth time since his longtime mate from boarding school, Jean-Baptiste Mercier, first alerted Anthony to her existence, but it took a great deal of effort.
But Anthony gave his breast pocket a reassuring pat with his free hand, just to make sure the phone, and her smiling face, were still there—
“Anthony.”
Startled, Anthony glanced around to discover an exasperated looking Baptiste beckoning to him from several feet away. A surprise because Anthony had thought that Baptiste and their other school chum, Domenico “Nick” Rossi, were still right there beside him.
Anthony snapped to attention, realizing that he had, perhaps, lapsed into a daydream. About her.
Baptiste raised a brow and beckoned again. “Do you want to join us, or do you want to continue being rude?”
Anthony hesitated. What he wanted was to leave this gala celebration of Baptiste’s new winery merger, go upstairs to his hotel suite, shed the monkey suit and stretch out in bed to watch football with another whisky and a nice slice of New York style pizza. Then he could fall asleep with his Ruth Bader Ginsberg biography, which was really starting to get good.
Actually, strike that. What he really wanted was to be upstairs rolling around in that same bed with the object of his growing obsession, but since what he wanted didn’t seem to be on the menu tonight, he braced for another round of small talk and calibrated his expression for polite interest as he walked over.
That was when the crowd shifted and he realized that Baptiste and Nick were standing beside two beautiful women, one with dark skin and short hair, the other with—
Christ. It was her.
His mouth dried out. His feet simultaneously turned leaden and clumsy, like flippers on land, and his steps slowed to the point where it was a wonder he didn’t trip over himself and plant his face on the floor.
Still, he eventually got there, his mind empty of all intelligent thought.
Well…except for the galling knowledge that he’d probably screw things up. The way he always did.
Put that thought aside for now, Anthony, he told himself, taking a bracing breath.
“Could you be a bit more sociable?” Baptiste snapped when he arrived. “I thought you were with us. Not standing over there holding up some pole.”
“I’ll try.” Anthony cleared his throat and decided that coherence was all anyone could request of him at the moment, let alone good manners or a smile of greeting. He also decided it was best not to look directly at her until he got his features and hoarse voice under control. “I’m not very good at these events, I’m afraid.”
“He’s a Brit,” Nick interjected apologetically, flashing the wide smile (blindingly white and readily available) that always made Anthony seem that much more a buffoon in comparison. Freaking charming Italian. “They show no emotions, ever. What can you do?”
“Don’t start, you two,” Baptiste warned Anthony and Nick in that silky accent of his, green eyes bright and twinkling for the ladies’ benefit. “I’d prefer for Samira to think I have nice friends.”
Freaking charming Frenchman, Anthony thought, glaring at Baptiste with rising despair. Moments like these always made Anthony wonder why he’d ever befriended these two suave fellows in the first place. Thirty seconds with them in a social setting and Anthony inevitably sank to bottom of the class in terms of interpersonal skills and making a good impression.
Lobbing a final glare at Anthony and Nick, Baptiste commenced with the introductions. “Anthony Scott, meet Samira Palmer and Dr. Melody Harrison.”
Oh, Anthony knew who Dr. Melody Harrison was, all right.
Why?
Because Baptiste had texted him a few weeks ago, saying that if Anthony was still in the market for surgeons willing to volunteer for one of the foundations he chaired, which provided medical services for children in need around the world, then Baptiste had a lead on someone for him to consider. And he had provided a link to Melody’s hospital bio.
Since Anthony was always in the market for volunteers, he’d clicked on the link. Seen Melody’s hospital bio and picture. Been immediately smitten and researched everything he could find online about her.
And suddenly found himself in the midst of a growing fascination with this stunning woman standing in front of him.
Melody Harrison, thirty-five. A single, Harvard University-trained pediatric surgeon born and bred here in Journey’s End, now practicing at the local medical center.
Anthony had, naturally, watched all her online video snippets for parents, where she discussed topics like the necessity of vaccinations and vision and sight screenings. He’d discovered that she was sharp, funny and compassionate, with a brisk and lovely American accent.
One might think that, with all that information and growing curiosity under his belt, he would be more than ready to meet Melody. One would be sadly wrong. Especially with his heart pounding its way up his throat.
So he focused on Baptiste’s new girlfriend, Samira, first.
“How do you do?” he said, noting Samira’s doe eyes, gleaming dark skin, high cheekbones and open smile. Baptiste had chosen well. Anthony could absolutely see why Baptiste had lost his head over her. “Pleasure.”
Samira murmured something in response. He had no idea what. Why? Because his brain exploded as soon as he turned to Melody and looked into her face at close range.
Christ.
Surely no one present could blame him for needing a moment to adjust to being in the presence of this angel in their midst, much less smile or make conversation. Not with his face frozen like this.
Where to start?
Well, she was of average height, but that was where anything remotely average about her ended. She had luminous brown eyes that dominated her heart-shaped face. A cute nose. A lush fantasy of a mouth. Black corkscrew curls, piled on top of her head tonight, with a tumble trailing down one side of her face and along her neck. Honeyed skin, a gift from her white mother and black father (he’d seen them in her social media pictures), that glowed gold in the ballroom’s romantic lighting. A filmy and fiery strapless red dress that left a healthy portion of her cleavage visible to admiring eyes, like his.
For a couple of the most deliciously excruciating moments of his life, he had zero idea what to do or say.
But then a small portion of his brain returned from break and reported for duty.
Right, then. Greet her, Anthony, you bloody moron. Don’t screw this up.
Everything happened in slow motion.
He nodded at her.
A smile turned up the corners of her mouth, revealing the promise of dimples.
Excitement swooped low in his gut.
They shook hands, her soft palm sliding against his.
Her eyes widened as a shiver of something passed between them.
A secondary explosion racked his brain, leaving nothing useable in its wake.
Her lips moved.
He heard nothing.
She waited, a flicker of something indefinable crossing over her expression.
And…that was when everything zoomed to regular speed again and full awareness slammed back into his body.
Just in time for his social awkwardness to be revealed in all its glory.
She said something, you dolt.
Answer her!
“Pleasure,” he said, dropping her hand and stepping away from this female flame before he truly hurt himself.
She stared at him, her expression inscrutable, before hastily looking away and smoothing her hair where it ran down her cheek.
With that, all the air seemed to go out of the room. He knew he’d taken it with him, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to get it back. He never could.
A long and uncomfortable pause followed.
“So…” In a valiant attempt to get the mood back on track, Melody took a deep breath and encompassed all the men in her sweeping glance. “I have one dance partner for later, thanks to Nick. Who else is with me?”
“I am, as long as Samira can spare me,” Baptiste said. “She’s so easily eaten alive by jealousy. You understand.”
“You wish,” Samira told
Baptiste, and the two lovebirds made eyes at each other.
Melody looked to Anthony, her expression hopeful. “What about you?”
His heart sank. Every time he stepped onto a dance floor, he somehow managed to expand his two left feet to his entire body, generally spasming about like a man being electrocuted.
The only thing worse than his social graces? His dancing.
“You’ll have to do without me,” he said. “I don’t dance.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Anthony wanted to find a shepherd’s hook and yank them back. He’d meant to sound regretful. Instead, he’d sounded like a curt arse, even to his own ears. His poor sinking heart bottomed out at his feet.
“You don’t dance? Well, there’s a surprise,” Melody said tartly.
“Mel…” Samira said, shooting her a look.
Ignoring this interruption, Melody stared up at Anthony with an open combination of amusement and mild irritation. Not at all the kind of thing he usually encountered with society women, who fell about simpering at him and laughing at every half-baked joke he told.
He stared at Melody, feeling a powerful surge of adrenaline as everything in him waited at strict attention to see what she would say.