‘What if I tell you that I’ve decided that after today I don’t want to see you again?’
‘I won’t believe you. Not after what just happened between us.’
Drake’s expression was as serious and formidable as she’d ever seen it.
‘Look, I’m not interested in having some meaningless fling with you that will burn out in a few days or even a few weeks. I’ll only agree to see you if you let me into your life a little … if you give me the chance to get to know the man behind the successful veneer you present to the world. If you’re willing to at least consider the possibility, then I’ll agree to another date with you.’
‘Setting aside what I do for a living, and my public reputation, I’m a very private man, Layla. I very rarely let anyone get too close to me … especially women.’
He almost didn’t need to say the words. Straight away she detected evidence of the war that raged behind his haunting grey eyes. Tension momentarily made her breathing shallow.
‘So your previous relationships with women have usually been based on satisfying sexual desire and nothing more? Is that what you’re telling me?’
About the Author
The day MAGGIE COX saw the film version of Wuthering Heights, with a beautiful Merle Oberon and a very handsome Laurence Olivier, was the day she became hooked on romance. From that day onwards she spent a lot of time dreaming up her own romances, secretly hoping that one day she might become published and get paid for doing what she loved most! Now that her dream is being realised, she wakes up every morning and counts her blessings. She is married to a gorgeous man, and is the mother of two wonderful sons. Her two other great passions in lifeâ€"besides her family and reading/writingâ€"are music and films.
Recent titles by the same author:
DISTRACTED BY HER VIRTUE
A DEVILISHLY DARK DEAL
THE LOST WIFE THE
BROODING STRANGER
Did you know these are also available as eBooks?
Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
What His Money
Can’t Hide
Maggie Cox
www.millsandboon.co.uk
CHAPTER ONE
‘IS THE old place just how you remember it, Mr Ashton?’
The innocently asked question from his chauffeur Jimmy, as he drove Drake to his less than agreeable destination cut him open like a knife. Yes … his home town was just as dreary and dismal as he remembered it. His memory hadn’t lied.
Glancing out through the tinted car windows, noting the rundown buildings and general sense of despair that hung like a gloomy pall in the air, he felt a sensation in the pit of his stomach right then that was very close to nauseous. Was he insane even to think of revisiting this place, when it had caused him nothing but heartache and pain? It beggared belief that he had agreed his firm of architects would accept a commission from the government to create affordable, aesthetically pleasing housing to attract new residents to the area.
