Overworked London banker David Hawke has two goals for his week in the seaside town of Brighton: one, demand repayment of a debt without losing a valued friendship and two, relax for the remaining holiday without further distractions—except he encounters his friend’s newly confident younger sister. Abigail Watson is flirty, bold, and determined David will agree to her bargain and save her brother from debtor’s prison. But is her game to prevent him from calling in the debt, or are her sweet kisses a sign she is after a much greater prize instead?
Miss Watson’s smile grew. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Despite years of training to master his emotions in delicate negotiations, David gaped. Had Miss Watson discovered a woman who might hold tender feelings for him? So far he’d not found a woman capable of earning his admiration to stir him from his bachelor state. However, at his age, he probably should consider the matter properly. He would like to hand his wealth to a son one day, but the opportunity to marry hadn’t presented itself. Someone nearer to his own age would make life harmonious, as well. He glanced down at the bright-eyed girl before him and ignored the way his chest tightened. “I would indeed, but I suspect you merely tease a crusty old bachelor. I doubt such a person exists.”
Her smile grew coy and then she laughed softly. “Perhaps I will tell you, but only if you promise to see out your whole holiday and not run back to London when summoned. A week is barely long enough without cutting it short by two days. We were all very disappointed to discover you’d gone so suddenly without a word last year.”
He tugged on his hat as their gazes held, amused that she resisted giving it up. Perhaps Miss Watson had become a touch stubborn in the last year, too. He couldn’t remember having such an encounter with her before. “All right, you have me intrigued. I promise not to run back to London this year if you promise in return to impart your important discovery at the end.”
“Good, you won’t regret it, Mr. Hawke. I promise.” Her smile widened to alarming proportions and David feared he had seriously underestimated Miss Watson. He’d just been bested by an eighteen-year-old girl and she’d only used her smiles to do it. He must be getting old.
Eventually, his hat slipped from her fingers. He placed it firmly on his head and tugged his gloves on. “Well, goodnight, Miss Watson. Perhaps we will run into each other again.”
“Of course we will.” Her brow rose. “You only live next door.”
Heather Boyd is the author of sizzling romance with an historical bent. A fan of regency England settings, she writes m/f and m/m stories that push the boundaries of propriety and even break the laws of that time. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she can conjure up new storylines. Heather lives with her testosterone-fuelled family north of Sydney, Australia.
For more information visit: www.heather-boyd.com