Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Hey,” Andrea says, sounding a little exasperated. “We have a problem.”
“What’s up?” I land in a chair and take a sip of my beer.
“I’ve had to send Henry home. He’s been vomiting all over the office.”
I grimace. “Nice.”
“He’s supposed to be valuing a house in Belgravia. I can’t get it covered.”
My shoulders drop. “Andrea, I have Georgia.” At the mention of her name, my daughter marches into the room with a stack of pillows in her arms, dropping them to the middle of the floor before heading back to the bedrooms.
“I know, and I wouldn’t ask, but the seller has already had two other agents out and is keen to get it on the market.”
I sigh. “Send me the details.” I’m a businessman, and I don’t let business slip through my fingers, especially business in Belgravia.
“Thanks, Drew.”
I hang up and go find Georgia, my insides already tightening with guilt. “Hey, pidge.”
“Daddy, will you be my beast?” she asks, twirling on the spot.
“Well, you’re undeniably Belle.” I sit on the edge of her bed and let her climb onto my lap. “So I guess I can be your beast.” I tug on her pigtail and she giggles.
“You’re a handsome beast.”
I laugh, standing with her attached to my front. “Why thank you, Belle.” I pucker my lips and she indulges my demand for a kiss as I walk through to the kitchen. “Now, I have a proposition for you.”
She pulls back, her little face wrinkling warily. “We’re just pretending, Dad. I can’t marry you.”
She’s just the damn cutest thing in the world. “I have to pop to work for an hour.” I feel rotten when her tiny shoulders slump, disappointment clouding her gorgeous little face. “Just for an hour, I promise.”
“Can I come?”
“No, pidge. You’re going somewhere better.” I put my beer back in the fridge.
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.” I drop her to her feet. “Go get your coat and shoes on.”
She races off, the promise of a surprise replacing the disappointment with excitement. I might be jumping the gun here. I haven’t even checked. I pull up my contacts list and go straight to the boss.
Ava answers in two rings. “Hey, you.”
“I need a huge favor.”
* * *
We roll up at Jesse’s place half an hour later, and Georgia is out of my car as soon as I come to a stop, squealing in excitement the moment Maddie appears on the doorstep with a collection of Barbie dolls. “Thanks, Ava. I owe you.”
“No problem. Take as long as you need.”
“Where’s Jesse?”
She points across the drive, and I spy him through the trees with his boy Jacob, kicking a ball around. I cup my mouth with both hands and shout, “Foul!”
Jesse looks up and waves, taking his eye off the ball for just one second. A second is all it takes. “Goal!” Jacob pulls his Manchester United shirt up over his head and starts circling his dad, arms in the air as he chants. I laugh, though my mate is less than amused.
“See ya!” I jump in my car and race across town to Belgravia.
Chapter 4
I take in the impressive row of white stucco-fronted Georgian terraces on the fancy street, my gaze drifting across the road to the private gardens that also boast tennis courts. It’s one of the best addresses around these parts and would be an amazing addition to Davies portfolio. Property around here is like gold dust, millionaires waiting in the wings for word of something coming to market. My charm is well and truly turned on.
I climb the steps to a shiny black door with gold fittings, all highly polished as expected, as I check the name of the vendor on the message Andrea sent. Rivers. Mrs.? Mr.? A quick rap of the elaborate doorknocker is enough before I straighten my suit and turn on the smile I need when in business mode.
The door opens.
And my smile falls.
“Raya?” I step back, as does she, her smile falling, too.
“Drew, what are you doing here?” She glances left and right. “I’m expecting someone.”
“Yeah.” I pull my card out of my pocket and hold it up. “Me.”
Realization dawns as she stares down at my card. “Davies.” Another step back. “You’re Davies of Davies & Partners?”
“And now you know what I do for a living.”
She’s casual in an oversized silk T-shirt and baggy trousers, her hair piled high with layers falling across her face. And no makeup. How can someone look so utterly stunning with no makeup on?
She owns this place? Fucking hell, I’ve not even stepped foot in the grand Georgian palace yet, but I already know we’re talking tens of millions. I’ve dealt with property like this endless times, but never before has it felt so intimidating.
“You know, if this is too awkward I can go.” I’m begging, properly begging, for her to say no. This woman has been on my mind, crawling all over my skin, from the moment I set eyes on her. And now my curiosity just went through the roof. The opportunity to potentially peel back a few layers and try to answer some of my unrelenting questions is too tempting to resist. Not to mention the urge to feel her against my skin again.