Grayson Daly and I aren’t just rivals. We’re enemies.
Born minutes apart on the same day in the same hospital, our parents thought this meant we were somehow destined to be together. We knew were we just destined to beat each other.
Competition boiled over until junior year, when the cold war turned into an unexpected peace offering. Maybe my hormones allowed me to notice his broad shoulders, stormy gray-blue eyes, and soccer star’s chiseled frame. But after I fell for him…he stomped all over my heart.
Ten years later, I’m at the top of the realty game in Bayshore and Grayson is just a distant memory. Until he shows up from NYC, his ego bigger than a skyscraper, and asks me to sell the house he recently inherited.
It’s easy to say no. Even though I want to climb him like the jungle gyms we used to dangle from in strong arm battles.
But I forgot that Gray doesn’t take no for an answer. And that he isn’t content unless he’s defeating me.
He butts into my evenings on the boat. Ropes me into water skiing battles. Even shows up at the bar and creates a scene when I’m scouting a date to the upcoming Bicentennial Ball.
It’s almost like he’s gunning to win me.
But if he wins, that means I lose.
And I’m not ready to cede victory just yet.
Excerpt
Grayson cocks a smirk, the type that takes me right back to that psychotic period when I fell in love with him for three months. Except now he’s older, more refined. He’s got on a medium-gray suit that sits halfway between Billionaire Chic and Vogue model. Alligator shoes that come to a point. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he begins an intolerable saunter toward me.
“You’re really going to act like you don’t know who I am?”
The gruff bass of his voice sends heat straight to my [censored]. I blink demurely for a few moments, feigning my
“Hazel,” he says. “Cut the crap.”
His commanding tone irritates me so much that I do exactly as he says. I set my lips in a thin line. “Oh, jeez. Yes, Grayson Daly. It can only be you.” I avoid his gaze as I set to work reorganizing my desk. Anything to avoid looking at his impossibly handsome frame, his dark hair clipped short on the sides but longer on top, allowing one delectable finger wave to emerge. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.” I can’t help myself. The words fly out. “You got old.”
He cocks his head to the side, an expression like oh, come on creasing his face. “I’m ten minutes older than you, so I assume you feel the same way about yourself.”
Ugh. He always threw that ten minutes older than you crap in my face growing up. Like it allowed him to ultimately win. Well not anymore. I’m taking my ten extra minutes of youthfulness and running with it.
“I’m as perky and bright as they come,” I say, tossing him a plasticized smile. “A veritable fountain of youth.” As I face him down, I try to see myself in my mind’s eye. Hoping my fire-engine red lipstick isn’t smeared. It never is, but on the day that Grayson shows up, you can never be too sure. I thank the gods above that I got my eyebrows done earlier this week. I would have prepped more, had I known Grayson was going to saunter into my office as if he was auditioning for the role of Unaffected Businessman. But I’ll have to work with what I’ve got. “Now, how may I help you, sir?”
An
“Thought you might be able to help me sell a house.” He works his jaw back and forth as his gaze skates around my office. “I won’t be needing
About the Author
Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck. In addition to romance novels, Ember also writes travel memoirs and occasionally updates a couple of blogs. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, hops around the world, and eats lots of vegetables.
An
“Thought you might be able to help me sell a house.” He works his jaw back and forth as his gaze skates around my office. “I won’t be needing
