How to Get Over Your Ex. Nikki LoganЧитать онлайн книгу.
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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!
Next month, look for the second book in this duet: The Guy To Be Seen With by Fiona Harper
HOW TO GET OVER YOUR EX
“Why are we here, Zander?” she breathed into the fading light.
He stared at her in the rapidly cooling, darkening evening. “Because you followed me up here?”
Half of her was terrified he’d just shrug and blame tradition. That this thing between them wasn’t mutual. But she wasn’t about to be put off so easily. “Here, by the twinkling water as the sun sets.”
“Do you want to leave?” he murmured, eyes locked on hers.
She should. “No.”
“Do you want to feel?”
Her lungs locked up. Suddenly the grass and cows and water around them seemed to grow as if the two of them had just hauled themselves over the top of a beanstalk, forcing them closer together and making the scant distance separating them into something negligible.
Her pulse began to hammer in earnest.
Zander raised his hand and slipped it behind her head, lowering his forehead to rest on hers. His heat radiated outward. His eyes drifted shut.
How to Get Over Your Ex
Nikki Logan
ABOUT NIKKI LOGAN
Nikki Logan lives next to a string of protected wetlands in Western Australia, with her long-suffering partner and a menagerie of furred, feathered and scaly mates. She studied film and theater at university, and worked for years in advertising and film distribution before finally settling down in the wildlife industry. Her romance with nature goes way back, and she considers her life charmed, given she works with wildlife by day and writes fiction by night—the perfect way to combine her two loves. Nikki believes that the passion and risk of falling in love are perfectly mirrored in the danger and beauty of wild places. Every romance she writes contains an element of nature, and if readers catch a waft of rich earth or the spray of wild ocean between the pages, she knows her job is done.
For Aaron, who knows just how hard
the getting over part can be.
Give my regards to Broadway.
Contents
ONE
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.
Not yet.
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.
She groaned.
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