Meryl Pierce Novels & Stories

The two were like oil and water, incapable of sharing a room without sparks flying—or so she'd always believed. She blinked, half-convinced she was hallucinating, but Harrison had already recognized her. He paused before her, his expression unreadable. "Mirena. It's been a while." "Mr. Pierce," she replied automatically, her eyes lingering on the faint smudge of lipstick near his collar. Was it Eleanor's shade? The thought was absurd, yet it stuck. Noticing her stare, he cleared his throat and subtly adjusted his collar. "I heard you're making a formal return. And that little scene on the yacht…"