Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 Laura Burton (books to read this summer .TXT) 📖

was risky, even with the security, but I don’t think I can chance it with a run out in the open.” Harry offered a casual smile as Julie stared at him. She stood rooted on the spot, looking cute in an oversized blue shirt and black leggings. Harry thought she looked stunning in formal wear, but seeing her in casual clothes made her look even more tempting. She stood there looking like at him with no idea just how badly he wanted to hold her up and kiss her.

He snapped out of his daydream and gestured to the large, black punching bag hanging in the center of the room.

“I come here when I need to release some tension. You know, when you deal with people all day and don’t get to say what’s really on your mind.”

Julie hummed and nodded in response.

“Shall we?” Harry asked politely as they walked to the punching bag. He stooped down and picked up a pair of boxing gloves and handed them to Julie. “Here, put these on.”

Julie obliged, glancing at Harry with a look of amusement as she did so.

“All right. Now what?” She stood with her arms hanging limply at her sides; it looked like a pair of bowling balls replaced her delicate hands. Harry walked behind the bag and asked, “Okay, so tell me about Frank.”

“He’s a––” Julie’s voice faltered, she bent to the side and her face came back into view. It was flushed as she considered how to finish her sentence.

“––moron?” Harry offered. Julie’s face broke into a grin.

“Yes,” she said firmly. Her head bobbed as though cementing the fact. Harry clapped his hands together and pointed to the bag.

“Okay, Frank is a moron. Now throw everything you’ve got into this bag.”

The bag jostled side to side as she pummeled it, alternating fists and huffing. Harry raised his brows and clapped.

She’s done this before.

“Tell me, what did you want to say to him today? When he was picking on that woman? What was her name again?”

“I don’t know.” Julie sounded breathless. “Isn’t that terrible? I should know the names of the people I work with.” She threw herself into another burst of punching. “I wanted to walk up to him and say, ‘Frank, you’re a jerk. Stop treating everyone like your servants. Nobody likes you. If you just tried to be more like a leader and less like a dictator––’” She threw more punches into the bag. Harry nodded along.

“Nice. I like it. Go on.”

Harry walked around and watched Julie really get into it. She threw punches and smashed her knee into the bag for extra effect. Tirades of shouting and angry yelling followed. The sight took him by surprise, and he knew his brother would be seriously impressed.

“I had no idea you had so much anger inside of you,” Harry remarked as she slumped with one arm around the bag and took deep breaths. Her face was blotchy and shiny with perspiration. Her blonde hair was frizzed at the hairline.

“Neither did I,” Julie said while panting.

“You know, the other night… at the opera,” Harry began as he rubbed his neck. Julie eyed him carefully and straightened her back.

“It’s all right. I know you were just joking,” she said with her hands raised.

“Joking about what?”

“Oh, you know, the whole ‘will you marry me’ thing? It’s okay. I was just playing along.”

Harry resisted the urge to clamp his teeth against his lip but set his jaw instead.

“Right. What a relief,” he forced himself to say after a moment. Julie was studying his expression now; he tried to fashion a causal smirk.

“I mean… we just met,” she added carefully.

Harry nodded along and broke into a false laugh, his heart sinking. Maybe Benjamin was right; it was only infatuation between the two of them. He needed to cool off and act casual if he had any chance of spending more time with Julie. He figured one more intense move would have her running for the hills.

“Right. I do want to spend more time with you though,” Harry said. Already forgetting his own promise to play it cool. He braced for Julie to eye him warily. Her beaming smile set his worries at ease.

“It’s a good thing too. We’re going to England in two days.” She pulled off the gloves and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. Seeing her looking so confident and pumped with adrenaline sent flutters of excitement in Harry’s midriff.

“You know, Frank really is a moron. And if he gives you any more trouble, I want you to tell me. I know Estelle and––”

“Oh no,” Julie said waving her hands and shaking her head at Harry. “You’re not doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“The ‘I’m going to step in and save the day’ thing. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

Harry stared at Julie blankly.

“I know that,” he said honestly. “You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”

The question sent a flush of color to Julie’s face, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I just have to raise the courage to speak to him face-to-face… and not this punching bag.”

Chapter Thirteen

What Happens in London…

Julie spun around in the salon chair to face the mirror and gasped.

“It’s so short!” she said, running her fingers through her silky-smooth hair. The stylist furrowed her colorful brows. Clearly, this was not the reaction she was hoping for. Emily however, clapped and made sounds of approval.

“It’s still touching your shoulders, you look gorgeous.”

Julie leaned forward to inspect the roots. A beautiful platinum shade of blonde once more. No more evidence of her true mousey hair color showing through.

Harry was due to pick her up in a few hours. Emily insisted on taking her straight from work to Fifth Avenue for some last-minute shopping, and she booked Julie an appointment with her stylist. Emily loved a good makeover. Although she disapproved of Julie’s decision to go to England, she put aside her judgment and focused on the task at