Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

He wished he’d had the chance to tell Callie that he loved her—properly and forever.

And he wished to hell he could focus on anything other than the remembered shape of Callie’s mouth, the sound of her voice and the fruity scent of her hair.

‘Owen?’

‘What?’ He crashed back into the moment, registered the lawyer’s wide eyes, and bit back an oath. He had no right to take out his dark mood on the lawyer. ‘I’m sorry. I was miles away. A…uh…work issue,’ he lied, forcing himself to straighten and look interested. ‘What do you want to see me about?’

He had his suspicions. He suspected Callie had had a valuation of the apartment complex completed and that Mr Dunkley had been ordered to put forward a price to Owen. He’d pay it. Whatever price she wanted, he’d pay it.

Mr Dunkley glanced at the clock. ‘It’s just that…well—’

The door burst open. ‘Sorry I’m late!’

Owen blinked as Callie burst in, wearing her raspberry coat and shaking droplets of water from her hair as she dropped both her coat and scarf onto a spare chair. Everything inside him fired into sudden and furious life.

She threw herself down into the seat beside him, and the scent of her hair engulfed him.

‘What is it with New York and the weather? You can’t call this spring. I swear it feels as if it should be snowing out there.’

He couldn’t stop himself smiling, even as his heart ached with need and want. ‘You should see what it’s like in the dead of winter.’

She gave a theatrical shudder, but laughed as she did so.

His pulse pounded. He stared at her the way a starving man stared at a loaf of bread. He couldn’t help it. In the same way she couldn’t help walking into a room and filling it with warmth and laughter and goodwill.

He couldn’t get enough of her. And seeing her freed him and oppressed him in equal measure.

Freed him because to see her was a balm to his soul. Oppressed him because he wanted her. He wanted to hold her, kiss her and tell her he loved her.

But she wanted none of that.

She didn’t want him.

It took all his strength to drag his gaze back to Mr Dunkley.

The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘Ms Nicholls requested that I set up this meeting to table a proposition—one I have every expectation you’ll endorse, Mr Perry. It’s an enterprise that will amalgamate a variety of initiatives—’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gerry, could you be more ponderous if you tried?’ Callie broke in, rolling her eyes even though her lips curved upwards.

Ever since Mrs Dunkley had drunk too freely of the punch at Callie’s party and forced her husband to dance up a storm on the dance floor, Callie and the lawyer had been on first-name terms.

‘Callie, this is a business meeting, and as such certain formalities should be observed.’

‘Tosh,’ she said cheerfully, turning to Owen. ‘Let me cut to the chase. I—’

When her eyes finally met his, her words stuttered to a halt. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. ‘Thank you for the flowers and the card. They were lovely.’

She’d thanked him already, via text message.

‘You’re welcome.’

They hadn’t had the desired effect, though. They hadn’t had her rushing to his door and throwing herself in his arms.

‘Have you heard back yet?’ he asked. ‘Did they offer you the job?’

‘Of course they did. The video you made for me blew them away!’ She shook her head and waved her hands between them, as if trying to clear her head. ‘But that’s all by the by, and it’s not why I asked you to meet with me today.’

She didn’t want to talk to him about the job because she thought he disapproved. The thought was a knife to his heart. ‘Congratulations, Callie—I mean it. I’m happy for you. You’ve worked really hard and you deserve your success.’

She stared at him and frowned, as if she could sense the hollowness in his heart.

He straightened. ‘So what kind of initiative and strategic vision did you want to table today?’

Her lips twitched and her eyes danced, but she straightened too, folding her hands neatly in her lap. ‘Owen, I’m setting up a foundation. I’m calling it the Frances Foundation—because I like alliteration, don’t you?—and as Frances’s godson, and someone who loved Frances dearly, I thought you might like to be involved and become a trustee.’

Her words made no sense. A foundation bearing Frances’s name? You only did that to honour someone, and Callie didn’t want to honour Frances. She loathed her.

He leaned towards her. ‘What about your TV job?’

Setting up a foundation and running it took a lot of time and…commitment.

* * *

Callie couldn’t stop the nerves from fluttering up into her throat, making her heart race and making it increasingly difficult to catch her breath. She’d spent the best part of the last month asking herself all the hard questions—what kind of person did she want to be? What did she want to do with her life? What gave her joy? Where did she want to live?

And, most importantly of all, who did she want to share that life with?

She’d discovered the answers to all those questions and she’d found a way forward—one she could be proud of. But it hadn’t happened overnight. It had taken a lot of soul-searching, a lot of honesty, and that had taken time. Too much time? She dragged in a breath. Please, please, please let there still be a chance for them. She couldn’t bear it if she’d lost all hope of winning Owen’s heart.

‘I turned down the TV job.’

He stared at her. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked in serious need of a cut. But the swift keenness in his gaze told her she had his full attention.

‘You did what?’

His lips—lean and firm—reminded her of all the ways he’d taken her to heaven, and the memories tugged at places inside her with insistent hunger.