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280 pages, ebook
First published July 18, 2016
“He spun slowly to face her, and Holly’s heart leaped. His hand rested lightly on her cheek, and then his lips were on hers. There it was. That inexplicable warmth, but Holly knew what it meant now. It meant this was real. What she felt wasn’t fading, and instead of relying on the fact that it would, she let those words loop over and over again along with the rhythm of the kiss.”
“Just because you make the rules doesn’t mean you can break them. Or does it?”
There [making partner at work] was a sobering thought. Work. Career. The reason for the rule in the first place. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy having someone to come home to at night. She quite liked that part. It was just that after the honeymoon phase—the part where everything was rainbows and puppy dogs and great sex all the time—then it became work. There were expectations that Holly couldn’t meet. Can you stop bringing work home with you? Do you have to work on the weekend? What comes first, work or me?
The answer was always the same. Holly’s passion for Trousseau always trumped her passion for other people or things.
“Holls—maybe if you put in the work with one of these relationships, you’d feel differently.”
That was just it, though. If something was right—if it was meant to last—it shouldn’t be so much effort. At the end of the day, after the hard stuff was over, Holly wanted easy. She wanted a neutral zone where she didn’t have to prove herself or where her priorities lay. With the six-month deal up front, she could come right out with it. Everything else comes first, but I’d sure like to enjoy you for a while.
His chest tightened now just as it did every time he thought of that night, because he couldn’t remember feeling that way about anyone before [Holly]. Yes, he had loved Tara, Sophie’s mum, but he’d been young and stupid and way more in love with being William Evans, rising star in the world of publicity for the most high-profile clients in England. She was his first love, but the younger version of himself hadn’t known the first thing about what that meant or how to be a proper boyfriend.
If he pulled off this event without a hitch, he’d have enough time with the firm to take that yearlong sabbatical he’d promised himself. Time to spend with Sophie and be the father he should have been all along. But he had been too young and stupid when she was born to see past the money and the allure of travel, too afraid to step away from a competitive industry that would only replace him with the next up-and-coming young bloke.
Sophie had been an unexpected surprise, but it hadn’t been enough to save their already failing relationship. Tara wanted stability, and Will had wanted the world. So she found Phillip, who loved Sophie as his own, and Will became a third wheel in his own daughter’s life as the work kept piling on.
Give us another year, and we’ll give you six months’ leave.
Come on, Will. You’re on fire. Another year and we’ll up it to eight months.
Sign this contract, Evans. Five years, and you’ll have enough in the bank to retire before you’re thirty-five, mate. We’ll even hold your position for a full year.
And so, like an arsehole, he’d signed on the bloody line.
Before he knew it, time had gotten away from him. Tara was happy with Phillip. Sophie was happy with them.
“As I was saying, you are my son and a good man who became a father before he was prepared for what that entailed, but you did the best you could then, and you’re doing even better today. Just look at that beautiful girl you helped create.”

“But I don’t really know you at all. Do I? You’re a fixture in my professional life. My personal life. And now you’ve filtered into my family life. You’ve seen it all, and you’ve shown me nothing.”
Will climbed into his jeans and let out a sigh.
“That’s not true,” he said, and she opened her mouth to argue. But he would have none of that. She didn’t get to play this card. “Yes, we’re brilliant as business partners. And we have done things in that conference room that would get us both fired, and I don’t even work for Trousseau.” He couldn’t help but smile at that last remark, but Holly’s expression remained impassive. “I’ve had dinner with you and your sister and friends, and it’s been lovely. And it was equally lovely to meet your parents. But come on, Holly. That’s hardly me seeing it all. It’s me seeing snapshots of you through other people’s eyes, a distorted view. And do you want to know what a distorted view is?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“It’s safe, Holly. Bloody safe. It’s no different than the way I compartmentalize for you. It’s just your own particular method.”


"I'm a sure thing. Right here. Right now. I know you don't want me to think you came here just to shag me, but good Lord, please tell me that you are going to shag me, because I so want to shag you."
"I miss your eyes, especially when you look at me with your brow all furrowed thinking I'm crazy. I miss eating ice cream with you, looking at the stars with you, and hearing what kind of prediction your horoscope has for you and the way you claim it's utter bullshit when I know you buy into it just a little bit.
I miss you, Holly."
"But here's the secret no one ever tells you."
"What's that?"
"You can't choose it. Or plan it - the person you fall for. It just happens, like a slap upside the head. A wake-up call."

"I might devour you, body and soul."

"If life and love were so bloody easy, how would we ever know what was worth fighting for if there was nothing worthy of a fight?"
