Page 1 of Austen Persuaded

Chapter 1

Success!I cheered silently as my toes finally managed to snag the edge of the scarlet cropped cardigan tossed nearby. I dragged my foot across the smooth linen slowly and carefully until it reached my waiting fingers. My eyes slid to the right to see if I’d caused any stir.

The cardigan in hand, I frowned, realizing the hardest part was yet to come. I needed to wriggle out from under his heavy arm, which was lying over my waist. Not cradling me but rather lyingonme, as though I were part of the bed. Indeed, I realized mirthfully, I was practically a fixture in this executive suite at the Four Seasons.

A half-seated position was all I could manage, but it was enough to slip the cardigan on over my ivory camisole while his thick arm still lay draped over me. But just as I was adjusting the sleeve, I felt a stir. Him.

“Brandon, I really need to…” I started, but his arm only tightened, his breathing still slow and steady. He was still out cold, but it was early. He’d probably dozed off last night as soon as we’d flipped on the movie—just as I had—after our late night on the town.

I smiled, letting my head sink back into the pillows.

Maybe the morning could wait a little longer.

“Just cancel, babe,” Brandon grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to reach out and tug me back as I giggled and stepped back.

Fully dressed now, I ran my fingers through my rumpled hair. “I would think you’dwantme to show up to work, since I do, after all, work for you.”

“Ellen can wait.” He rose to lean on one elbow, his blue eyes sweeping over me lazily. “What’s she ever done for you anyway, babe? Besides giving you the assignments Viviana doesn’t want.”

My usually playful features settled into a frown.Was he right?Sure, my copyediting workload had its share of boring legal and business books, but so did Viviana’s. My friend and fellow freelancer had commiserated with me many times on the subject. It was just the nature of the books the company published, as Ellen always said. Then again, Brandon would know better than anyone. He owned Bolder Publishing. Ellen was just the editorial manager.

“Brandon, hon, I’d love some career advice from you, but this is a conversation for another day. I can’t just not show up to a meeting.”

His cheeks dimpled as he grinned and reclined, displaying his sculpted arms over his head, undoubtedly for effect. “I could write you a doctor’s note. Dr. Bolder recommends lots of bed rest. Who could argue with that?”

I felt the corners of my lips tugging upward. He was sure of himself, but not in the condescending way of some men. He knew he was a 10. Maybe an 11.

We were exactly alike in that way.

I sauntered over to him. “I’ll make it up to you tonight after Ellen’s party.” I brushed my lips over his with a light hand resting on his chest and then, with strength I didn’t know I had, rose and headed to the restroom to freshen up.

I stared at my reflection, assessing the state of my tangled red hair and frowning slightly. In truth, I felt annoyed that Brandon wanted me to simply skip a work meeting. But just a bit. Whenever I found myself even slightly annoyed with him, I reminded myself I was looking too hard for flaws. Because he must be too good to betrue. Hemust.

Because Brandon Bolder was, as much as any man could be, perfect.

I'd certainly dated enough men who were the exact opposite—jerks, all of them, but they were fun—forsolong I couldn’t even remember how long.

Four years.

Since him.

I ignored the tiny voice, barely even a whisper, in my mind.

Men were jerks, but they were fun. And that was fine. Fun was all I needed.

Brandon was fun. Maybe he was even more.

“I’m having a really hard time finding anything wrong with this one, Viviana,” I said as I sifted through my friend’s closet. “He’s, he’s …” Unfortunately, my difficulty finding words was not only due to the topic. As much as I’d tried to ignore it, I’d developed a nasty cough as the day had progressed.

“Your soulmate?” Viviana said, a wide smile on her face. “After all these years, you’ve finally found the one?”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the tiniest whisper in my mind reminding me that, once upon a time, Ihadfound the one.

No, I hadn’t.

“That’s so cheesy, Viv. It’s not like 26 issoold. But I find that—” I paused, staring in the distance as intense eyes from the past stared back in my mind, against my will.

No, I’d never found the one.

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