Waking up each day is a gift….
On her 21st birthday, someone slipped a potent drug combination into socialite Aurora Brightwell’s champagne putting her in a coma for the next ten years. It’s been a long road back, and it’s time to reclaim the life she lost and find out exactly what happened on that fateful night.
Financier Kincade Enright has his own reason for helping Aurora discover who poisoned her, but for the time being he’s keeping that – and his true identity – to himself. What he can’t keep hidden though, are his growing feelings for the one-time paparazzi darling and party-girl.
When this prince of finance joins forces with the former sleeping beauty, nothing can stop them from finding the answers they seek…or prevent the powerful emotions developing between them as they search for the truth.
“Mr. Enright,” I said when he stood and held my chair. “Thank you.”
He sat after I did, earning an approving, eyebrow-raised perusal from my mother.
“You’re welcome, and it’s Cade,” he said, his head tipping close to mine.
The subtle scent of man and soap drifted over me and I had to restrain myself from leaning in closer for a more thorough whiff. A warm, masculine scent is always so much more appealing than aftershave or cologne.
While I put my napkin in my lap, he kept his head inclined and said softly, “You’re probably wondering how I wound up at your table.”
I lifted my water glass and before taking a sip said, “It had crossed my mind since I know for a fact you were at table twenty. Since I don’t see Dominic Dupont I’m guessing you switched with him.”
His gentle exhale sounded…amused. I snuck a side eye his way and saw I was correct. The corners of his mouth were pulled in and up and for the first time I noticed a tiny dimple wink back at me.
“Dominic’s father is one of my clients,” Enright said, “and when I told him I wanted to sit at your table he agreed to switch.”
“How did you know this was my table?”
“I asked Ms. Spring.”
I peeked over his shoulder to see Dabney chatting with the person on her right. Turning my attention back to the man, I asked, “Why?”
“Why did I ask her, or why did I want to sit at your table?”
That little crevasse deepened, a twin forming on the opposite side of his mouth when his grin turned to a full-fledged, captivating smile.
“To paraphrase you, it’s amazing how with millions of people in this city, it can be deceptively small. Twice in one day tells me we were meant to meet, so.”