Sleepless in Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 1)

“So? People network and make recommendations all the time. It’s how business is done. What’s the difference?”

“Is this to do with what happened when you were a teenager?” Eva’s eyes narrowed. “Because if it’s the whole ‘he saw me naked’ thing that’s getting in the way—”

“It isn’t!”

“I was going to say, then you should forget it. Jake has seen plenty of women naked since then.”

“Is that supposed to make her feel better?” Frankie looked at Eva with exasperation. “She doesn’t want to hear that, Ev.”

“Why not? It’s not as if she’s in love with him.” Eva paused and looked at Paige. “Are you?”

“No,” she croaked. “Definitely not.”

“Right. It’s an embarrassing incident in your past, nothing more. You should forget it.”

“She’s trying to,” Frankie muttered, and Paige took a deep breath.

“It has nothing to do with that. He’s probably forgotten it ever happened.”

But she knew he hadn’t forgotten.

He was wary around her. Careful. As if he saw her as a potential threat.

Which was mortifying.

As a result she was also careful. She hadn’t touched him since that night.

But the other night he’d touched her, and for a moment she’d thought—

She stared down at her hand, still able to feel the warm strength of his fingers closing over hers.

Then she shook her head impatiently. Those thoughts were exactly the reason she kept her distance.

It had been comfort. Nothing more.

“I’m not asking Jake. There are plenty more calls I can make. Something will turn up.”

Unfortunately the “something” was Jake himself.

The door to the restaurant opened and Paige automatically glanced toward it, as if something in her was programmed to sense his presence the moment he walked into a room. Tonight he was wearing a button-down shirt with jeans, but he turned as many heads as he did when he was wearing a suit.

And he turned hers. She had time to register the lift of her heart and the lightness of her mood before his gaze met hers.

She could tell from the faint narrowing of his eyes that he hadn’t been expecting to see her there, and for a moment she was eighteen again, offering him everything and seeing the shock on his face.

In her dreams she’d imagined him being overcome by lust. Instead, he’d been kind and the kindness had simply added to the humiliation of his rejection.

Kindness had to be the cruelest response of all to wild teenage love. It was a soft, gentle emotion. A direct contrast to her extreme, out-of-control feelings.

His gaze held hers, his focus on her alone, and she felt her heart beat a little faster. She felt as if she were floating. Flying higher and higher. This was the first time she’d seen him since that night on the terrace when they’d spoken alone. He’d touched her hand. He’d—

Jake opened the door a little wider and a woman walked past him into the restaurant.

Her blond hair fell to her waist and she was so slender she looked as if a gust of wind would blow her over.

The floating, flying feeling died. Paige’s mood plummeted, like a paraglider losing a thermal.

She felt an uncomfortable twist of pain. The same thing happened every time she saw Jake with a woman.