It Must Be Your Love: The Sullivans Read Online Free PDF

her hand out of his. “Anyone who’s read Rolling Stone knows you don’t like your given name.”
    It was a perfect reminder that she’d never been any more important to him than any other groupie he’d slept with, since the reason he hated his full name was just one of the many things he hadn’t cared enough about her to explain.
    She’d spat the Rolling Stone comment out in an offhand, albeit bitter, way, but was surprised when he seemed to be warring with himself. Was he finally going to confide in her? Five years too late, but still...
    His too-beautiful mouth tightened down right before he said, “That name doesn’t fit me. It never has and it never will.”
    She waited for him to say something more, to explain why Rutherford didn’t fit but Ford did, until she realized she was being a fool again.
    Nothing. He’d shared precisely the same nothing he’d given her before.
    Disappointment came before she could pretend it hadn’t. How many times did she have to learn this lesson?
    Ford took everything...and then gave just enough to keep her hooked.
    Still, she shouldn’t have been so petty as to use his formal first name when she knew he hated it, even if she didn’t know why. It wasn’t just mean of her, it was sinking to his level. And if there was one thing she absolutely needed to do, it was rise above.
    Not fall any deeper.
    Mia forced her pride far enough to the side to be able to say, “I apologize. That was unprofessional.”
    He looked momentarily surprised by her apology, before moving toward her. “Mia—”
    She cut him off as she took a step away from him. “This home has six bedrooms, five and a half baths, an Olympic length pool, a custom-built wine cellar that was featured in Wine Spectator magazine, and, of course, you’ve already found the tower.”
    “Alana told me it was where she would go when she wanted to be alone to think.”
    “You know Alana?” Her mind immediately swam with visions of just how intimately he likely knew the owner of the house they were standing in.
    “She’s my business manager’s sister,” he said, and then clearly reading her mind, added, “And she’s never been anything but a friend.”
    Pushing aside the relief, she snapped, “I don’t need a list of everyone you slept with before or after me.” Realizing too late that she was doing a terrible job of remaining cool and unruffled, she said, “Look, Ford, I think you’ll agree that the best way to do this is to keep things strictly professional.”
    “No, Mia,” he said in as steady a voice as she’d used on him, “I can’t agree with that.”
    Heat—and senselessly desperate desire—shot through her before she could stop it. “If you want me to be your Realtor,” she informed him, “you’re going to have to agree with it.”
    His eyes were dark and as mysterious now as they’d always been. “I won’t promise anything about the future, Mia, but for today, I’ll try.”
    It wasn’t much of a concession to the rules she was setting up between them, nor anything close to a promise. She shouldn’t have accepted it, should simply have turned and left. Instead, she found it impossible to walk away from him. Telling herself she was just doing her job, she asked, “Have you spent much time in this house apart from the tower?”
    “No.”
    “Then why don’t we start with the ground floor?” Reminding herself to treat him just as she would any other client, as they moved from the kitchen into the large formal living room, she began to ask the questions she would normally already know the answers to if her client hadn’t insisted on remaining anonymous until the first showing. “Will this be a primary residence or a vacation home?”
    They were standing side by side in the elegant room that looked out on the exceptional water views when he answered, “Primary.”
    She only barely stopped herself from whirling to face him in surprise, and quickly had to clarify, “But since you’re