Three friends. Three challenges. Are they willing to risk everything for love?
Life is good for ex-soldier turned entrepreneur Michael Ede. Or so he thinks. When his friends set him a challenge to exorcise the memory of a woman from his past, he expects it to be a walk in the park.
Socialite Kasie Bosa is spitting fire at men. Her long-term boyfriend has asked for a break via text message of all things. Fuming, she’s told him to go take a dive off the nearest bridge. So the next man who crosses her path is at risk of being shredded with her spa manicured nails.
Bad news for Michael who has chosen her as the object of his challenge. But neither of them can deny the sizzling chemistry between them nor control their responses, it seems. It’s the season of love. Will they escape unscathed?
Paul let out a sigh as he took a sip of his drink. Perhaps it was time to call it a night. He was due to catch a flight out of London tomorrow afternoon. A good night’s sleep wouldn’t go amiss.
As he turned, the door to the balcony opened, letting out the noise from the bar and along with it, a sexy goddess.
Long dark tresses framed an oval face of flawless buttery cream, her curvaceous body in a beautiful navy lace dress that stopped just above the knees exposing satiny legs and feet in wedge sandals. For a moment she stood still, one leg paused over the threshold, the other already outside. In the pose she looked breathtaking with the dim lights from inside framing her in a silhouette.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted some fresh air. I’ll come back later,” she rattled out, the chant of her velvety voice set the blood in his veins alight.
She lowered her gaze, pulling the corner of her lower lip with her teeth in a nervous smile. Her diffident expression had his heart hammering in his chest, sending pulses of granite need down his body.
For the first time in weeks, his body responded to the sight of a woman with desire. An instant overwhelming craving. Perhaps he wasn’t fatigued. He just needed the right woman.
“No. Stay. There’s plenty of fresh air to share.” He straightened languorously and lifted his lips in a rapacious grin; all thought of leaving early fizzled into the cool night air.
Stepping out fully, she closed the door behind her, leaving them in near silence. She moved to the end of the balcony away from him and put her hands against the railing.
“I love this view of London and come out here whenever I’m in this building,” she said, her tone conversational. Yet her soft voice sent spikes of heat into his veins.
“It’s a great view. I don’t see much of London when I’m here. So it’s good to see it all lit up at night,” Paul replied, glad that she was talking. For some reason he wanted to listen to sound of her voice.
He turned back to look out over the balcony, placing his palms on the cold metal. Even from the distance of about six feet, he could sense her heat. He pictured her leaning across to brush his hand with hers. A warm shiver travelled down his spine.
“You don’t live in the city?” she asked, turning to face him in the near darkness.
From this angle, her face was a contrast of light and shade. Still, he made out the gentle contour of her almond-shaped eyes, staring at him with curiosity. He wondered at their color. He wanted to find out.
“I guessed as much.”
“Why do you say that?” Paul leaned on the railing, turning his body and giving her his undivided attention. The pleasure of watching the bright city lights paled in comparison to the excitement in his blood at watching her luminous skin and graceful curves.
“I don’t know. There was just something about you that didn’t seem like a local.”
Her lips curved wider in a luscious smile. He fought the urge to taste her lips, tightening his grip on the railing instead. It was too soon. He didn’t want her skittering away in fright.
“You’re good then. I’m only in London for tonight. Tomorrow, I’m off to Abuja.”
“Oh. That’s a shame.” Was that disappointment in her voice? Did she feel this flaming hunger he felt too? “You won’t get to see much of London in just one day.”
“I guess not.” The urge to touch her skin drew him closer. “I’m Paul Arinze.”
He stopped at arm’s length and extended his hand. Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his and held his stare boldly. On connection, a warm tingle spread from his hand down his back. Her hand was soft and warm. Yet she her grip was firm and confident.
“I’m Ijay Amadi.” Her sultry voice brushed his skin in a featherlike caress.
The throbbing of his arousal increased. The heady mix of her timidity and trust made him want to crush her soft curves against his hardness. If she had this effect on him just holding his hand, what would it feel like on the rest of his body? He wanted to find out. Shame he only had tonight.