Her Name Is Trouble: A small-town contemporary romance (The Daimsbury Chronicles Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

safe, you know.”
    “What? Staying with Ben and Jari? They’re absolute darlings—”
    “No. I meant travelling around on your own like that. You’d have been such easy prey.”
    She understood where his concern came from—Luke having struck her as the embodiment of a gentleman—but his dismissal of her as a frail female still grated.
    “I can hold my own, thanks.”
    He let go of the cookie basket to sit back. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you were naïve or gullible or anything.”
    “Apology accepted.”
    She stood; the intimate atmosphere between them having been ruined with her prickliness. Way to go, Missy. She hadn’t stuck her foot in her mouth this time, or tripped over him, but she’d killed the mood as effectively as a candlesnuffer over a flame. “I better get going.”
    “Hey, I’m really sorry,” he said.
    After laying his head back against the sofa, he brought his hands up and rubbed them over his face.
    A sign of frustration if she’d ever seen any. “Something wrong?”
    He peered up at her, and that’s when she noticed the dark circles rimming his eyes. Worry, most certainly, caused them, as well as the pain from his broken toe. The latter thanks to her.
    “I find myself in a bit of a tight spot with work right now,” he admitted.
    Missy sat back down. “Wanna talk about it? I’ve been told I’m a good listener. Like, when I’m not careening into people, throwing hot soup over them, and breaking their toes.”
    Self-deprecation went a long way in setting a trusty mood for confidences.
    He laughed, then the mirth died. “I have an important shoot next week in New York, but now I won’t be able to travel.”
    “For Sinners&Saints ?”
    “Yeah. How’d you guess?”
    “They’re your biggest contracts. I figured it’d take them to have you in such a tizzy.”
    He sighed. “I don’t know how to break it to them that I won’t be able to make it.”
    “Is it for Sinners or for Saints ?”
    “ Saints .”
    “So suits, then.”
    “Yes.”
    “What’s the collection like?”
    He seemed to hesitate to answer her. Of course, confidentiality agreements and the like. “I won’t rattle to anyone, promise.”
    Plus she also had an idea what this season’s offering would carry; she’d listened in on the design team a little before leaving, hoping that by getting involved in the business, her father would see that she could be trusted with his company. She had no plans to make CEO ever, but some respect for her intellect would’ve been welcome.
    “Okay. Something tells me I can have faith in you.”
    She gulped at that admission. If he ever came to find out she had hidden her true identity...
    “The shoot is for formal suits, kind of a throwback to historical attire. You know, doublets and coats that look like riding jackets.”
    “Very British.”
    He nodded. “Indeed.”
    Ideas fired up in her brain. “And here you are in England.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    She laughed and opened her hands in a wide sweep. “Look around you. This is the setting for historical suits.”
    “You want me to ask them to move the shoot here?”
    “That would solve your problem, right?”
    “True, but...”
    “But what?”
    “Missy, how can I ask them that?”
    And here peeked out the good-guy nature of this man—surprising how he’d reached such heights without steamrolling or short-changing anyone in his whole career.
    “You’re their brand ambassador, Luke. The line is nothing without you.”
    He shrugged. “I’m not irreplaceable.”
    Could he be for real? A part of her swooned at his humility.
    “Yes, but right now, you are indispensable if they want to continue promoting their products with flair and panache. Ask them to move the technical team here for a few days.”
    “I’m not sure—”
    “Oh, come on, Luke. Thanks to you, TnT ’s business has been doing hotter than a hooker’s doorknob on payday. Trust me on this; they need you more than you need them