Miracle On 5th Avenue (From Manhattan with Love 3)

Frankie waggled her eyebrows. “So there was raw lust? Because if he looks anything like the picture on his book jacket, I’d have struggled not to rip his clothes off.”

Eva remembered that

breath-stealing moment in the dark when she’d thought he was going to kiss her.

It had probably been her overactive imagination. The chemistry had almost fried her alive. She’d never wanted a man so much in her life. She’d backed away before she could be tempted to do something stupid. She could just imagine what he would have said if she’d grabbed him and kissed him.

“He wasn’t that hot in real life. You know how it is,” she lied. “Photoshop can make anyone hot. A man looks different when he hasn’t shaved.”

“Sexy stubble makes some men hotter.”

“Not him.” She broke off as Lara, their receptionist, walked into the room.

“We’ve had a ton of requests through the app,” she addressed the three of them. “I dealt with the easy ones, the others I sent through to you, Paige. There’s a full report in your inbox. We’re getting more dog-walking requests. Some elderly clients who don’t want to risk going out in the snow.”

Paige was all business, Lucas forgotten. “More than The Bark Rangers can handle? Do I need to think about researching additional suppliers?”

“Not yet. The Rangers are thinking of taking on another person. I spoke to Fliss yesterday.” Lara put a can of diet soda on Frankie’s desk, and a mug of coffee in front of Paige. “I didn’t make you anything, Eva, because you already made yourself green tea and you said you were— Oh, crap.” She broke off, staring through the glass wall of the office.

“I’m certainly not crap,” Eva said stoutly, and then realized Lara wasn’t paying her any attention. “What? What are you staring at?”

“Him,” Lara said faintly. “I’m married with two children. I’m not supposed to look at men and want to strip them naked.”

“Nothing wrong with wanting,” Paige said. “It’s the doing that causes a problem.” She glanced up. “Is that—?”

“Lucas Blade.” Eva knocked over her mug of tea. Liquid spread across her desk, soaking everything in sight.

“I guess that answers our question about whether he looks as good as he does in his author photo. I was going to say play it cool,” Paige said, “but I guess I’m too late.” She stood up, rescued Eva’s laptop, grabbed a bunch of napkins left over from an event and tried to stem the flow.

“Not at all hot in real life.” Frankie gazed through the glass to the man standing at the reception desk. “Not even warm. And you’re right—that dark stubble is just, well, there are no words for it.”

“Shut up.” Eva bent down, her face scarlet as she tried to undo the destruction she’d wrought on her desk. “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out because they directed him this way.” Paige disposed of the napkins.

Frankie, who was never flustered, looked flustered. “I’m going to fangirl all over him.”

“You? You are Miss Cool. And I’ve got a massive damp patch on my skirt. I look as if I wet myself.” Eva dabbed ineffectually at the fabric and made it worse. “I could hide under the table and you could say I wasn’t here.”

“Stay seated,” Frankie advised. “I’m not usually starstruck, but would it be horribly crass of me to ask if I can take a selfie with him? Seriously, I can’t believe I’m meeting the mind behind the books I love.”

“His mind is a weird thing,” Eva muttered. “What’s he doing here anyway?” Her heart was racing. Her hands shook a little. “Does he look angry? Is this about the ball at the Plaza? Maybe he tried to cancel and they’re going to bill him anyway. I’m glad he finally left his apartment, but part of me wishes I wasn’t the reason.”

“Who says you were the reason? There could be a million reasons why he’s out and about in Manhattan. Calm down.” Paige rose to her feet, her smile warm and professional. “Mr. Blade. I didn’t realize you had an appointment.”

“I love your books!” Frankie stumbled over the words and Lucas flashed her a smile.

“That’s good to know.”

Frankie dug her hand into her bag and pulled out one of his books. “I don’t suppose you’d—”

“You carry that around with you?” Paige gaped at her. “Don’t you get a backache?”

“I couldn’t put it down. I’ve been reading it under my desk when you weren’t looking.”

“Seriously?” Paige rolled her eyes. “Take a reading day or something, and then come back and concentrate.”

“You want me to sign it?” Lucas held out his hand for the book and Frankie handed it over like a person in a dream. “To Frankie, yes?”