By Sarah Morgan
Matilda is a brand new York waitress by way of day, yet an aspiring writer by way of evening – and she or he likes to write approximately kickass heroines!
So while she meets wonderful millionaire Chase Adams, she makes a decision to channel them and act on their scorching allure! One magical evening later, she's dwelling the dream, yet will a visit to Tiffany's make it a truth?
Read or Download Midnight at Tiffany's (Made in New York, Book 0.5) PDF
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Extra info for Midnight at Tiffany's (Made in New York, Book 0.5)
A nightmare he'd be mad to repeat. ’ he asked. ‘Now's the best time, the lull before the storm. ’ Holly bit her lip, a tiny gesture that sent a volt of sexual energy coursing through his veins. ’ Scott strode off quickly before the close confines of the hallway led him to do something he shouldn't. In the main open plan living area mellow flames still flickered in the fireplace. They cast a soft, amber haze over the room's leather sofas and faux fur throws. ’ Holly grinned. He liked that she was taking the mickey.
He knew he should maintain a professional distance but what the hell, it was fun playing with her. She was a puzzle to be solved, a challenge to rise to. On the surface she seemed to be acting a part, that line about being grateful for the opportunity had been falser than her little strip routine. Usually he hated that kind of superficiality but her eyes had a depth and intelligence that blew him away. Intuition told him there was more to her than met the eye, although he had to admit what met the eye – the lush curves of her body and wavy auburn hair - was an absolute treat.
Clearly all was not well back home. Well he could certainly relate to that. Generally the chalet girls the agency sent him were a hardy breed who partied like it was their vocation. They worked efficiently enough so they could get maximum time on the ski slopes and in the bars at night. Some were looking for flings, others looking for rings. Holly didn't fit the Hooray Henrietta mould. Nor did she fit the bra she’d so carefully tried to pass off as her own. ‘It was too small,’ he replied bluntly, trying not to laugh too openly, watching the deepening flush of her cheeks.