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L A T T E   G I R L

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Hot coffee is a regular fixture in Hailey Warren’s life. Hot guys? Not so much.

Her gruelling shifts at a cafe in the heart of the city’s business sector are rarely punctuated by anything special, so when the gorgeous heir to the security company next door strides into Hailey’s life, it feels like punctuation with a capital P (or D, depending on your preferred terminology.)

Jordan Knox is enough to send her heart racing faster than a triple shot of espresso, and when the attraction proves to be mutual, no hidden corners or empty offices are safe from their game of cat and mouse.

But when she’s ready to drop the pretenses, Jordan continues to hold back, and Hailey realizes he’s been hiding secrets that could make whatever’s brewing between them boil over and burn.


She looks up at me and gasps, and when I get a good look at her face it’s all I can do not to gasp too.

She’s gorgeous.

She’s the kind of gorgeous that hits you like a stun gun, all milk and honey skin with huge, inky blue eyes as round and crazy-inducing as a full moon. I’m suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she’s on her knees in front of me with her mouth hanging open in a perfect ‘O’.

For a moment we both stand there, staring, my outstretched arm holding the spoon between us like some sort of bizarre Renaissance tableau. Then she blinks those inkwell eyes of hers and looks away.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, getting to her feet. I think she’s going to slink away in embarrassment,  but instead she lifts her head up to face me, and there’s a small smile on her lips that has me feeling like I’ve been hit by round two of the stun gun. “How’d you know?” she asks.

I give her a questioning stare.

“That it was mine.” Her eyes drop to the spoon still clutched in my fist.

“Ah,” I answer, “lucky guess.”

Her smile widens as she takes the spoon out of my hand.

It’s not the only thing that’s getting out of hand. My imagination is having a field day and is not checking in with me for permission. My eyes have already travelled the length of her body. It shouldn’t be possible for her to be so attractive in the outfit she’s wearing. Who makes grandma loafers look sexy? And that apron. I’m suddenly picturing her in nothing but that apron.

“Going up?” she asks, after tucking the spoons away and pressing the elevator button.

Oh yes. Things are going up.

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