Her Client from Hell

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Louisa George. Her Client from Hell

‘Jack.’ It was meant to be a warning. A definitive no. But it sounded like a whimper

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Before she could breathe again Jack was in front of her, all six feet plus of impressiveness, his scent of heat and man filling her nostrils. His hard body … there. The open-necked shirt revealing just a little of a tanned chest that she suddenly wanted to touch, his smile now almost blossoming.

The street seemed to fade out a little as her vision narrowed to just him. His hand was on her cheek, the lightness of his touch making her heart stutter. The intensity in his eyes caused her abdomen to contract with a need she hadn’t expected.

.....

This had to be the weirdest conversation she’d ever had. Organising a wedding breakfast for a man who wasn’t getting married. Maybe he’d had his heart broken and couldn’t move on? Maybe he was channelling Miss Havisham? Tragic.

And that was definitely none of her concern. Because she was not going to allow any man to wheedle his way into her business or her heart—especially her heart—ever again.

.....