Page 38 of From London, With Love

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, with more customers than usual, given a few new releases we’ve got in stock. Despitethe rush, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that something is off today. What that is, I haven’t the slightest clue, but the feeling doesn’t wane.

I’m confirming the final details with Anna when Riss pops her head through the storeroom archway.

“Congratulations again, Lara. We’ll see you at nine o’clock Monday.” With a friendly goodbye, the call disconnects.

“It’s official!” Riss beams at me from the doorway. “I’m off now dear, but I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you then!”

Collecting up her things, Riss blows me a kiss before disappearing from sight, the doorbell sounding moments later.

I glance down at my watch. Woah, it’s four o’clock already. Where has the day gone? An unexpected pang of disappointment hits me in the chest as I realise what felt off: Mr Darcy hasn’t shown his face today.

Disappointment sits heavy in my stomach.Since when do I care?A little voice chimes in from the back of my mind, sounding eerily like a mix between Harper and Mia.

You started caring from the moment he went down on you with more skill than Owen Gray.

Well,shit, the hybrid voice may have a point.

I go through the motions of closing the store for the day without really thinking about it. My thoughts are stuck on one tall, dark and sarcastic man and his lack of showing up today. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t enjoy our interactions, and I don’t just mean the physical storeroom kind.

I hate to admit it, but the man makes me laugh. He also makes me scowl and roll my eyes to the point of pain, but the laughter side of things seems to be more prominent.

Last Tuesday comes to mind; it was as though he was enjoying seeing me happy. That can’t be right, can it? The manusually gets on my last nerve, yet something was different that day.Hewas different.

“Well, well, this is certainly interesting.”

The deep timbre of Mr Darcy’s voice draws my attention away from the stack of books I’ve been pricing up. He’s standing in front of the Staff Picks stand looking as dapper as always. On this angle, it’s hard not to stare at the way his trousers hug his arse so perfectly. Something resembling a whimper escapes me at the sight. Heat blooms in my cheeks almost immediately. His gaze flickers to me, and I fumble the pricing machine I’m holding.

“W-what’s interesting?” I hope the question makes him forget the noise he just heard.

There’s a smirk on his face as he picks up one of the books, waving it in his hand like a makeshift fan. “This pick right here is very interesting.”

Despite knowing he’s purposely being vague to get my attention, I play along. I wander over to stand beside him, glancing at the book—The Bonus by T.L. Swan.

“He looks an awful lot like me, don’t you think?” He quirks a brow.

I can’t help it, I keel over in a fit of laughter.

When I right myself, I place a hand on his bicep. I didn’t intend on touching him, but it doesn’t feel wrong when I do. The moment my skin makes contact with his, my heart thuds once against my ribcage, then settles into its usual rhythm.

I feel his gaze on me before I see it. When I glance up, I’m met with the sincerest smile I think I’ve ever seen on that handsome face. There’s never been any doubt he had a good-looking face, but when the corners of his eyes wrinkle and his signature dimple appears, my heart squeezes. I’m not sure I’ll ever see someone more enchanting than he is right now, gazing down at me like I hung the stars.

Ignoring the strong desire to pull away from him and the intensity of his gaze, I keep my hand planted firmly on his arm. Mr Darcy studies my face for a moment before blinking and refocusing his gaze, the moment having passed.

On my walk home, disappointment flares again as thoughts of what could’ve been flood my mind. Given the fact there’s almost ten million people living in London, there’s a good chance I’ll never see him again.

Chapter 17

Carter

The laptop in front of me whirs to life as my desk phone rings. Peering at the caller ID, I find myself sucking in a short breath. It’s Anna.

This isn’t a normal reaction I have when Anna calls me, but my new assistant is starting today, and Anna said she’d give me a quick call before she arrived.?

Truthfully, I haven’t decided how I feel about this whole situation. Do I really need a stranger coming in and attempting to keep me organised? I’m a grown man; I’m almost positive I can handle it by myself.

Reminding myself she’s never given me a reason to doubt her judgement, I pick up the phone.?

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