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How to Get Over Your Ex by Nikki Logan - Romance>Contemporary
Part of Valentine's Day Survival Guide
Being rejected is one thing. Being rejected live on radio takes it to a whole new level!
After her on-air proposal is turned down by her commitment-phobe boyfriend, Georgia Stone must learn to survive singledom. Unfortunately, thanks to a clause in her contract, she has to do it under the watchful gaze of brooding radio producer Zander Rush.
And so begins the Year of Georgia! Lurching from salsa classes to spy school, Georgia discovers a taste for adventure. Her biggest thrill so far? Flirting with danger--aka the enigmatic Zander. But admitting she's ready for more than just a fling...? Definitely Georgia's scariest challenge yet!
Don't miss the second book in this duet: The Guy To Be Seen With by Fiona Harper
Harlequin KISS has 4 new fun, flirty, and sensual romance books available every month.
Reader Rating: 0.0 Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
Valentine's Day 2012
Close. Please just close.
A dozen curious eyes followed Georgia Stone into Radio EROS' stylish elevator, craning over computer monitors or sliding on plastic floor mats back into the corridor just slightly, not even trying to disguise their curiosity. She couldn't stand staring at the back of the elevator for ever, so she turned, lifted her chin...
...and silently begged the doors to close. To put her out of her misery for just a few blessed moments.
Do. Not. Cry.
The numbness of shock was rapidly wearing off and leaving the deep, awful ache of pain behind it. With a humiliation chaser. She'd managed to thank the dumbfounded drive-time announcers—God, she was so British—before stumbling out of their studio, knowing that the radio station's output was broadcast in every office on every floor via a system of loudspeakers.
Hence all the badly disguised glances.
The whole place knew what had just happened to her. Because of her. That their much-lauded Leap Year Valentine's proposal had just gone spectacularly, horribly, excruciatingly, publicly wrong.
She'd asked. Daniel had declined.
As nicely as he could, under the circumstances, but his urgently whispered, "Is this a joke, George?" was still a no whichever way you looked at it and, in case she hadn't got the message, he'd spelled it out.
We weren't heading for marriage. I thought you knew that...
Actually no, or she wouldn't have asked.
That's what made our thing so perfect...
Oh. Right. That was what made it perfect? She'd known they were drifting in a slow, connected eddy like the leaves in Wakehurst's Black Pond but she'd thought that even drifting eventually got you somewhere. Obviously not.
'For God's sake, will you close?'
She wasn't usually one to talk to inanimate objects—even under her breath—but somehow, on some level, the elevator must have heard her because its shiny chrome doors started to slide together obligingly.
'Hold the lift!' a voice shouted.
She didn't move. Her stomach plunged. Just as they'd nearly closed.
A hand slid into the sliver of space between the doors and curled around one of them, arresting and then reversing its slide. They reopened, long-suffering and apologetic.
'You mustn't have heard me,' the dark-haired man said, throwing her only the briefest and tersest of glances, his lips tight. He turned, faced the front, and permitted them to close this time, giving her a fabulous view of the square cut of the back of his expensive suit.
No, you mustn't have heard me. Making a total idiot of myself in front of all of London. If he had, he'd have given her a much longer look. Something told her everyone would be looking at her for much longer now. Starting with all her and Daniel's workmates.
He looked back over his shoulder. 'Sorry?'
She forced burning eyes to his. If she blinked just once she was going to unleash the tears she could feel jockeying for expression just behind her lids. But she didn't have the heart for speech. She shook her head.
He returned his focus to the front of the elevator. She stared at the lights slowly descending toward 'G' for ground floor. Then at the one marked 'B', below that—the one he'd pressed.
'Excuse me...' She cleared her throat to reduce the tight choke. He turned again, looked down great cheekbones at her. 'Can you get to the street from B?'
He studied her. Didn't ask what she meant. 'The basement has electronic gate control.'
Her heart sank. So much for hoping to make a subtle...
How to Get Over Your ExBy: Nikki Logan