BILLIONAIRE'S BRIDE

Chapter One. Tris. "So what are we having? Whiskey? Soda? Wine? You look like a wine person, do you need a minute? The bartender asked me , as i settled into an empty chair. "Any chance i can get a cosmo?" i asked looking around,it was a little too quiet for a Friday night. "Nope, but i have all the hard stuff." "Make it a shot of Jack Daniels." i said looking around the empty bar. Its a little past midnight now. And that's when i spotted him. He was tall and had broad shoulders. He had tattoos that slide all the way up to his shirt sleeves, his shirt was purple in color which complimented his skin well. He was about ten feet away from me, but there was enough light that i could see his eyes as they slowly dragged over my body without revealing a single thought. This guy holds his cards well. I though to myself as I caught him lick his slips slowly, such a guy move! The bartender came back to me with my drink and I lost concentration of the guy i was watching watch me for

Chapter Three. Tris. I shouldn’t have been so nervous riding a private elevator up to a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. The sight of high ceilings and prewar architecture wasn’t new to me, and really, it was all to be expected from a man who seemed to own damn near everything. And the coveted his anxiety as he watched for my reaction.His home was as beautiful as the man himself. It was sleek, modern, and cool. His private space was warm and sumptuous, filled with antiques and art anchored by gorgeous Aubusson rugs laid over gleaming hardwood floors.“It’s…amazing,” I said softly, feeling privileged to see it. But again he brings all his women back here so it was no priviledge really. “Come in.” He tugged me deeper into the apartment. He led me through the living room and down a hall to his bedroom.“Wow,” I breathed when he flicked on the light. A massive sleigh bed dominated the space, the wood dark which he seemed to prefer and the linens a soft cream. The rest of the furni

Tris. Tris tilted the margarita glass to her lips and took a long swallow. Tartness collided with the salt, exploded on her tongue, and burned through her blood. Unfortunately, not fast enough. She still had a shred of sanity left to question her actions.The violet fabric covered book beckoned and mocked. She picked it up again, leafed through the pages, and threw it back on the contemporary glass table.Ridiculous. Love spells, for God’s sake. She refused to stoop to such a low. Ofcourse, when her best friend, chloe, cast her own spell, she had been supportivea nd cheered her actions to find her soul mate.But this was completely different. Tris cursed under her breath and stared out the window. A sliver of moonlight leaked through the cracks of the organic bamboo blinds. Another evening gone. Another disastrous date. The demons threatened, and there was no one here to fight them back until dawn.Why did she never feel a connection? This last one had been charming, intelligent, and

Tris. It was quite a long way from the kitchen to the office, especially when one was carrying a tray holding two tea cups, a pot of tea, milk and sugar, but Tris was used to it. Her small, slight frame belied her strength just as her soft, feminine features belied her nature. She pushed open the door of the outer office, which was hers, noticing with a frown the heavy masculine topcoat flung carelessly over the spare chair. Nick , her boss, often had visitors, but very few of them wore coats like that. It was wool, and expensive, meticulously tailored and lined in silk. Tris put down the tray, wondering about whether to give up her own cup for the visitor, when she realised that the inner door was not quite closed. "Well, you will have no problems with the job, of course," Nick was saying. "Not after working on the last project." "Which, I take it, means I could have in other areas."Although the man"s voice was faintly muffled, there was no mistaking its hard inflexibility, and

Tris. It was after seven when Tris stepped wearily off the bus at the end of her road. There had been a last-minute panic necessitating recall of an article and she had worked late to help Nick get the crisis sorted out. The adrenalin flow which had helped her through the day had abated, leaving her feeling drained and exhausted. Her feet dragged as she walked up the tree lined avenue. It had been a perfect spring day, and now as long golden shadows fell across the pavement the last liquid notes of birdsong filtered sweetly through the air. She had a long way to commute, but she had particularly wanted a house with at least some pretensions towards being rural. She knew North London wasn't fashionable and people raised their eyebrows when they discovered how far out of town she was, but the house had a long back garden, which was enclosed with hedges and boasted half dozen wizened apple trees, and in the spring when they were in blossom and the cherry trees flowered along the suburb